#i’ll probably just write it all as one big oneshot and then cut it into little parts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.”

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #professor!harry #professor!harry au #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst

3K notes · View notes

the-girl-in-the-box · 2 years ago

Text

The Best Kind of Trouble

A/N: FINALLY Day 7 is here! Writing these oneshots for Barris Week 2022 has been so much fun, and I really hope you all have been enjoying reading them as much as I've been writing them. For my last piece, I tried to focus on keeping it mostly light- I don't believe this one actually needs any sort of content warning, even! A fun note here, though- this piece was vaguely inspired by the film noir genre, and as such I've left the time period entirely ambiguous. Hopefully, that means it'll fit the modern AU prompt, but if not... Oh well, I had fun writing it anyway! That said, thank you to everyone who supported me through my participation in this event, and I look forward to the next one :) Skål!

Summary: Detective Richard Ellis is brought a case by Lady Mary Crawley, and he soon realises he got far more than he bargained for.

It was a rainy evening in London when Mary Crawley first stepped into the office of Detective Richard Ellis, tall and thin with eyes which could cut right through him- could probably cut right through anyone. She was immaculately dressed in a tailored suit, hat pulled just so over her hair, so that he could tell immediately she came from great wealth. He sat up a bit and leaned forward against his desk as she settled herself in the chair across from him.

“Detective Ellis,” she greeted. “I’m afraid I have a case for you, and it isn’t one I’m happy to bring.” Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly, his brows drawing together as he focused on what she was saying. She seemed worried, more anxious than she was letting on, and his mind started working before she had even explained a thing. “This is my son, George Crawley,” she said, producing a picture of a young boy from her bag. He looked to be a kind lad, with big round eyes and perfectly styled hair- no doubt a sign of the wealth he’d been born into. “He’s been missing since this morning, but the police say it’s too early to declare him truly missing.”

Well, that sounded about right, and Richard couldn’t quite hold back a bitter chuckle. “I’m not surprised,” he told her. “You’d think with it being a child they’d get right on it- especially the child of one of the wealthiest families in England.”

Something tugged at the corner of her lips, a small smirk of agreement perhaps which added to the mask of nonchalance she wore. “I agree,” she said. “Children don’t just get up and walk away, not the same as adults are prone to do. And anyway, George had nannies around him as well as staff and his family in the house at all times. I can’t understand where he might have gotten off to that none of them would know a thing.”

“Probably because someone in your house does know something,” he figured. “If your son is George Crawley, I suspect that makes you Mary Crawley, am I correct?”

“You are,” she answered.

Richard hummed. “I’ll be in Downton village by late tonight, and I’ll see what I can dig up about your missing son.”

Relief flickered over her face, more subtle than the shadows of the raindrops from the moonlight hitting his window, but it painted enough of a picture that Richard already had some ideas forming about her. She was a worried mother, more worried than her wealth and status would allow her to show in their world, but it seeped through if one knew what they were looking for. Fortunately, he did.

He caught the last train out from London that was offered that evening and made it to Downton at about eleven, taking his luggage and walking up to the ticket booth when he arrived. Mary had left the picture of her son with him, in hopes that it might somehow be of use, and Richard had been determined that it would be before he returned it to her. If all went well, he’d be able to return it along with the boy himself.

The man in the ticket booth offered Richard a kind smile as he approached, and was prompted by his setting his luggage down to ask him, “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I was wondering if you might have seen this child come through here,” he stated, passing the picture to the other man. “Can you recall perhaps selling a ticket to a person who had him in tow?”

The salesman picked up the picture in his weathered hands, bushy eyebrows knitting together as he concentrated on trying to recall. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “It’s possible, as many people as come through here every day, but I don’t believe he’s come through here.”

Richard smiled tightly and thanked him for his time as he retrieved the picture, and then he started the walk up to the Grantham Arms, where he’d been put up for the night by Mary. In the morning, he’d come up to Downton Abbey as a guest, where he’d be allowed to begin conducting his investigation without raising any flags to warn those who might have been involved. It was a good enough plan, he thought, and should at least get him started in the right direction.

As he approached the aforementioned public house, he noticed a tall figure leaning against the wall, hat pulled down over his eyes and watching him walk up. He didn’t seem overly imposing, although he very well could have done, but he lifted his head a bit to show Richard that he had been seen. The first thing that caught Richard’s attention about this man was the shock of his icy blue eyes, and how they contrasted against his hair which was just about as dark as the night sky above them. Add to that his fair skin, and the smirk pulling at his red lips, and Richard was beginning to think he cut a rather imposing figure after all. If nothing else, he was the sort of man who spelled out Richard’s favorite kind of trouble.

Deciding to play the game, Richard walked right up to Thomas Barrow with a similar smirk on his own lips, and he sat his luggage down on the pavement beside him. “Do you normally wait out here to watch strangers, or is this something new you’re trying out?” he asked.

“Only watch the handsome ones,” Thomas replied, and shot a wink in Richard’s direction. “You staying tonight?”

Richard chuckled a bit and answered, “Just tonight. Did you have something in mind?”

“Depends,” he said. “How do you feel about some company?”

This earned him another chuckle, as Richard tilted his head just slightly to the side while he considered the offer. “I’ll buy you a drink,” he eventually decided, and the grin on the other man’s lips felt like a trap he was willingly walking straight into.

The two sat down together inside and spoke for some time, learning each other’s names and where they each were from- in addition to many other things. But eventually Richard began to stretch, and he looked over at Thomas, who was watching him carefully through the haze of smoke that came from his cigarette. “How about it, then?” he asked. “Are you ready to go up?”

Thomas chuckled and put his cigarette out in the ashtray in the center of the table, giving the impression that he was ready to do so, before he said, “Not tonight, I don’t think. Can’t make it too easy for you after all, can I? There’s not enough fun in that.”

“Not enough fun?” Richard repeated curiously. “So there is some, you think?”

“Handsome bloke like you?” Thomas pointed out, glancing over him as he spoke. “There’d be quite a lot of fun- but I think there’s more fun in making you play the game.” He winked again, and walked out, leaving a slightly incredulous Richard in his wake.

Richard went up to his room- regrettably alone- and settled in for the night, pulling out the picture of little George Crawley and looking it over once again. No, there wasn’t much left to be done that night, but he still thought it a good idea to at least consider what he knew so far. A missing heir and a house full of staff who could have taken him- a house full of family, too, as he wasn’t going to be too quick to rule that out. Anyone who had access to that boy was a suspect; he just had the task of sorting through them all until he found the culprit.

The next morning saw Richard rising bright and early to make the trek up to Downton Abbey itself, his mind set and focused on the task ahead of him. Well… when it didn’t wander to a certain handsome stranger from the night before.

One could imagine his surprise when he knocked on the door, and none other than said handsome stranger opened it. He looked different now, with the sun reflecting off his face as opposed to the moonlight, and wearing a butler’s livery as opposed to his day suit from the night before. Still just as handsome, but less seductive and more endearing with the way his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock, before he quickly schooled his expression back to that of a servant.

“You’re Lady Mary’s guest, I take it, Mr. Ellis?” he asked, and Richard smiled as he nodded and stepped into the house.

“That I am,” he confirmed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Thomas- or, I suppose I should call you Mr. Barrow now, shouldn’t I, if you’re the butler?”

Thomas glanced quickly around them to be sure the space was empty before he gave Richard a conspiratorial smirk and answered, “Only when there’s people around. You can call me whatever you like when we’re alone.” Ah, so the teasing wasn’t to stop then, Richard noted. He couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed.

They started in toward the staircase which led up to the gallery so Thomas could lead Richard to the room he’d be staying in, but the pair were interrupted by Mary herself descending, and she smiled just a touch when she saw Richard. He noticed that it was the same sort of guarded smile she’d allowed herself when in his office before. So… she couldn’t even be open in her own home? How interesting.

“Ah, Mr. Ellis,” she greeted when they met on the middle landing. “I’m happy to see you’ve arrived safely. I trust your accommodations last night were to your liking? If you hadn’t been coming in so late, I’d have asked you to come straight on, but I didn’t want to wake the staff in the middle of the night.”

“Of course, I understand,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “I rather enjoyed the stop off, actually. I don’t often get to have a night off to sit and have a drink and a chat, but I managed both last night, and enjoyed them in equal measure.” He could just see Thomas bite back a smirk at the implications only they were privy to.

“How intriguing,” Mary commented. “Well, please don’t let me stop you from getting settled in- we’ll have tea in the library once you’re ready.” She turned to Thomas and gave him a polite nod. “Barrow,” she said, and then went on her way.

Once they were in Richard’s room, Thomas shut the door and smirked at him, leaning slightly back against it. “I have to admit, this was a very pleasant turn of events,” he said. “Thought you’d be settling in somewhere in the village, and it’d be a while before I saw you again.”

Richard lifted a curious brow and asked him, “How’d you know I wasn’t moving on after last night?”

“Suitcase isn’t big enough for a very long trip,” he explained, “but not small enough to think it wasn’t for travel. Took my chances on if you were just a town over, or staying here.”

His quick thinking was rather impressive to Richard, who lifted his brows curiously at the analysis. “Well, it looks like your risk has been rewarded,” he said. “The game is set to continue.”

Thomas grinned at him, and chuckled. “Good luck then, Mr. Ellis, though I’m not too sure you’ll need it.” Then, just as he had the night before, Thomas winked and walked out.

Richard chuckled and shook his head in an amused sort of way as he watched the door shut. Thomas Barrow was trouble alright, but luckily for both of them, Richard rather liked getting into trouble.

Tea was rather revealing to Richard, and it didn’t take him long at all to decide none of the family had been involved in taking little George. They were all genuinely concerned, and genuinely irritated with the police for not taking up the search sooner, which wouldn’t have been the case if they’d been involved at all. So, that left the staff, and Richard found himself grateful for the excuse of going down to see Thomas to keep them from wondering why he was down there.

He quickly ruled out the cook, Mrs. Patmore, and all her staff, as well as Mrs. Hughes, the head housekeeper. The Bateses were clean, as well, which really just left Mrs. O’Brien- Lady Grantham’s maid- a few others on staff who didn’t seem to be the type. Well, and there was Thomas, but he didn’t seem to be the type either.

That fact made it quite a shock when O’Brien pulled Richard aside to hastily whisper to him, “I overheard Lady Mary and her Ladyship talking about how you were going to come in and try to find Master Crawley, so I think it’s important you know Mr. Barrow took a trip up to London the same morning the boy disappeared, and we haven’t seen him since.”

Richard’s eyes clouded a bit as he grew troubled. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Brien,” he said. “I’ll look into it.”

He wandered back upstairs after that, and went to find Mary, already forming a plan in his head as to how he wanted to handle this. “I’d like to take your butler, Mr. Barrow, back to London with me,” he told her. “We met last night at the Grantham Arms by chance and have gotten on rather well since, and I think it’d be helpful on this case to have someone with me who knows your son but wouldn’t be recognisable to just anyone as such.”

Mary’s eyes widened a bit at this, and she blinked a few times. “You need Barrow to help you on this case?” she asked him. “I suppose it makes sense, that George would be quicker to trust him than you, if that’s what you’re thinking… But still, it does seem odd.”

“I’m sure it does,” Richard confirmed, “but it’d still be quite a help to me- just in case we find him and I haven’t got time to send for someone he’ll trust without tipping anyone off.”

“Very well,” Mary agreed. “I’ll send him along with you, then.”

So Richard soon found himself on the train platform with Thomas, both of them packed up for a trip back to London, going to the ticket booth to buy their tickets. When they walked up, Richard knew he’d be dropping a bit of a bomb on Thomas by asking this, but he still had to do it. “Did you sell this man a ticket out of Downton village yesterday morning?” Thomas looked at him, seeming to feel a bit betrayed, and Richard smiled apologetically at him. “Just have to cover all my bases,” he explained.

“I don’t recall having done so,” the man behind the counter said. “What would the name have been?”

“Thomas Barrow,” Richard supplied.

They both watched as the man flipped through his book, and eventually he hummed, and nodded. “Yeah, one ticket for London to a Mr. Thomas Barrow right here, sold yesterday at eight-thirty in the morning.”

“What?” Thomas demanded, his eyes going wide. “I didn’t leave Downton yesterday at all- much less take George to London!” Something in the shock and outrage pleaded with Richard to believe him, and he frowned a bit at the new information.

He ignored Thomas for a moment to tell the ticket seller, “Alright, sell him another one and one for myself as well- name’s Richard Ellis. Thanks.” The sale was quickly completed, and the two went to board the train at once. It was only then that Thomas brought up what had happened at the ticket booth.

“You really thought I might have taken George?” he questioned, and Richard shook his head.

“Not really,” he said. “O’Brien tipped me off and I wanted you to come with me anyway, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to check up on it. Says a lot to me that he sold to you, but not to you.”

Thomas’s eyes widened with realisation. “Someone used my name,” he said, and Richard nodded.

“Exactly,” he confirmed. “Now, I won’t lie to you- I am trying to find George Crawley, and right now, O’Brien’s just jumped up on my suspect list for trying to paint you in a bad light. Is there anything you know that might be of some help?”

Thomas swallowed, and Richard watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah,” he confessed. “Yeah, I think I might.”

Thus, the two men found themselves in a rather seedy establishment, which Richard realised rather quickly Thomas knew his way around well. In fact, Richard was rather surprised when Thomas put a hand on his back to keep him close and guide him through the crowd. He eventually brought Richard up to a man with a thin moustache and dark hair, leaning against the bar and sipping on a drink as he spoke to the bartender- Guy Dexter, who Richard knew to be one of the more influential men in London society. When he saw Thomas, he grinned.

“Ah, Mr. Barrow,” he greeted. “Coming to join me for another drink? Or who’s this you’ve brought with you? Surely you’re not replacing me already?”

Thomas chuckled, and Richard noticed how he slipped back into that suave confidence from the night before, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t replace,” he said. “I either move on, or I don’t, you know that- and you know I’ve moved on anyway. But this is Mr. Richard Ellis. Richard- this is-”

“Hang on, you mean Detective Richard Ellis?” Guy interrupted. “What are you getting into, Barrow?” Thomas sighed.

“We think O’Brien’s gone too far this time,” he said, the facade beginning to slip slightly. “Lady Mary’s son has gone missing, and she’s tried to pin it on me.”

“You wouldn’t have done it though,” Guy said, his brows creasing.

Richard interjected, “Which is why we suspect O’Brien- aside from the fact Thomas doesn’t think it’s out of her character.”

Guy hummed a little, knocking back the rest of his drink to give himself time to consider this information. His eyes followed a young couple as they laughed and squeezed past the three of them. “I haven’t heard anything,” he said. “But you know the right places to check, I couldn’t tell you anything better.”

Thomas gave a bit of a frustrated huff. “She’ll have that place locked up tight before we could get out, if we try to go in searching for anything,” he grumbled.

“Not if you get a warrant,” Guy pointed out, and Thomas’s eyes widened a little.

“You know who all that brings down if we go in with a warrant,” he said. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

Guy shrugged. “Maybe not,” he said, “but if it gets the kid back…” He pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote something out with a pen he had in his pocket, which he then signed and slid over to Thomas. “Take this to my secretary and she’ll get you one,” he instructed. “I shouldn’t be doing this, since we don’t have any sort of probable cause other than a character witness and a lie, but I don’t think you’re going after her with no cause.”

“We’re not,” Thomas confirmed, and Guy nodded.

“Good luck to you then,” he said. “Both of you. And make sure you have the right plan in place when you use that thing.”

“We will,” Richard promised. “Thank you.”

With the written order for a warrant, Thomas and Richard left to start plotting. “I’ll tell you, I don’t think O’Brien will know I’m actually helping you just yet,” he pointed out. “I could get in while you get the warrant done, and then if I find anything I’ll call and tell you to come with help?”

Richard frowned a bit. “That puts you at risk of being picked up in a raid,” he countered. “Absolutely not.”

“If it means we find George, then that’s okay,” he replied. “And if it goes south, Guy knows the right strings to pull- I wouldn’t be the first man he gets out of jail.”

“And I don’t want you to be the next,” Richard insisted.

Though Thomas didn’t fight it any further, he didn’t agree to anything either, so by the time they got to Guy’s office no plan had been derived except that they’d turn that warrant over to someone who could get O’Brien’s London flat searched, and hope something turned up. They walked into the building and a little bell rang overhead to announce their presence, which brought out a pretty woman with dark hair held up in a bun, her brown eyes warm and sweet.

“Thomas Barrow,” Phyllis greeted happily, walking around the counter to meet him. “I haven’t seen you in a long while- I hope you’re not in trouble again?”

“Steering clear of it as always, Ms. Baxter,” he replied with a grin, and kissed her cheek when she came to embrace him. “But I think it’s found me this time.”

Richard chuckled and smiled in an amused sort of way, shaking his head fondly. “More like I’m keeping you out of trouble,” he said. When Phyllis turned her attention to him, he offered his hand and introduced himself. “Richard Ellis.”

“Phyllis Baxter,” she replied, and shook it. “What can I do for the two of you?”

“Mr. Dexter sent us to have you draw this up for us,” Thomas explained, handing her the order for the search warrant. “Think you can help us out?”

Phyllis looked over the paper and chuckled. “Another forged warrant, hmm?” she said. “He asks for more of these… Let me see what I can do.” She disappeared into the back of the office, at which point Richard began to look around some of the various knick knacks and decorations scattered about. His attention was quite well captured by this, and so it took him a moment to look when the bell over the door rang again, just as Phyllis returned. “Oh, I’d have liked to have said goodbye to him,” she fretted, and Richard’s eyes widened as he realised what that had meant.

“Oh God, he’s already left,” he grumbled. Richard quickly took the forged warrant, which passed even to his trained eyes, and nodded. “Yes, this is perfect, thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find him before he does get in trouble.”

She wished him luck and watched as he ran out the door, but lost sight of him quickly as he made a straight path to the nearest precinct. If he was fast enough, maybe they could scope the place out before Thomas got there. After all, it wouldn’t do any good if he got there before Thomas without the police. He’d blow it all, then.

It wasn’t difficult to find an officer who knew him who’d accept the warrant and get a group together, fortunately, and so Richard soon had enough officers to be able to do the search justice once they reached the flat. Fortunately, they made good time, but as soon as they got there Richard got a bad feeling. It seemed far too empty, too silent, and if that was so then where was Thomas? That feeling got worse and his stomach sank when the officers knocked on the door, and Thomas himself answered, holding little George Crawley on his hip. Thomas, no… he wanted to sigh.

“He’s got the kid!” one of the officers shouted, and then Richard was shoved aside when he tried to get through so they could pry a now crying George off of Thomas. As soon as they had him in hand, they started the process of arresting Thomas. No one heeded Richard’s protests when he tried to tell them what had really happened, and instead, Thomas was marched off as the officer who now held George- still screeching for “Mistew Bawwow”- turned back to Richard. “Thanks for your help again, Ellis,” he said. “Judge Carson won’t let him off easy for that one, I assure you- his wife works for the Crawleys, you know that?”

Just over that, he could barely hear Thomas shouting out, “-Barrow!” And then, it was over. Barrow? Richard wondered. Why would he just shout his surname at me? Regardless of the reason, Richard knew he needed to get help. Charles Carson was the toughest judge in the system, and if Thomas stood before him there was next to no chance he was getting out of it. Maybe he should go back to that Guy Dexter and see if there were some other papers he could forge to help, or maybe he could just… go and bust him out himself somehow. No, there’d still be the arrest documentation, and he’d be a fugitive, so that was no good.

As Richard walked by the train station on his way back to his own office, he chanced a glance up at the train times, wondering how soon it’d be before George was on his way home. He did a double take, and suddenly laughed, earning the attention of all those around him. “Oh my God, you genius,” he said, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he ran from the station and down to the CPS law offices.

He hadn’t dealt with this man very frequently, but everyone in this sort of field knew exactly who he was. One of the toughest lawyers in the city, it had been his origin he’d heard Thomas shouting out, trying to send Richard to him. It didn’t come as any surprise that Philip Villiers, who had come from Crowborough, appeared shocked at the sight of a very dishevelled detective standing in his office, trying to catch his breath. “...Can I help you?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” Richard panted. “I need your help to get a man out of jail- he doesn’t deserve to be there and he’s going to trial under Carson, who I know won’t let him out, and-”

Philip chuckled and held up a hand to try and stop Richard’s rambling. “Slow down,” he said. “You do realise I’m not for the defense, don’t you? If you want him out, you’ll need to talk to his lawyer, I can’t do anything for him, Mr. Ellis, and I think you know that.”

“Then why did he tell me to find you?” Richard questioned.

Philip sighed as he took a seat in his chair behind his desk. “I have no way of knowing,” he replied, “but you need to get a defense attorney, not me, if you want your friend to walk. And you’d better get a good one if you’re up against Charles Carson.”

“I don’t normally advocate to get men out of jail, but I know for a fact this one’s innocent. I’ll even tell you who committed the crime if you’ll find a way to help, and you can bring her in yourself if you’d like. I’ll take you straight to her door, I just need you to help.”

“Look, even if I did want to help you- which I don’t particularly see any reason to, and so I don’t want to- there isn’t anything I could do, anyway. I don’t know what the crime is, but I suggest you prepare your friend to deal with whatever the maximum penalty is for whatever he did. That’s what Carson will hit him with.”

Richard swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. “He doesn’t deserve this,” he said. “He’s going to jail for supposedly kidnapping a kid he helped me find and rescue. How does that seem fair to you? Is justice not a good enough reason to want to help? He sent me to you specifically, and I don’t know why Thomas had such faith in you, but-”

“Wait, Thomas?” Philip interrupted. “You don’t mean Thomas Barrow, do you?”

“Yes?” Richard replied, blinking.

Philip groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Finally gets arrested and not even for something he did,” he muttered. “Alright, I’ll get my coat and we’ll go get his arrest papers, and I’ll just burn them up so they have no reason to hold him.”

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult for the pair of them to get ahold of those papers once they’d gotten to the jail. Philip casually asked after a copy of them for Richard’s records, having been the investigating detective that made it possible for them to even arrest Thomas in the first place, and was happy to hear it confirmed that he had the only copy of the papers. He sent Richard home that night and promised the papers would be burned, instructing him to go back in the morning so it’d be different staff on duty who wouldn’t remember the papers existing in the first place. That was exactly what Richard did.

Their reunion was brief, as Richard really wanted to get Thomas back to Downton Abbey, so he wouldn’t be in the forefront of the investigation any longer. He was hoping almost desperately that this would work, because as much as Thomas’s grin when he’d realised what was happening had made this all worth it… he still wanted to know the other man was safe.

When they returned to Downton village, Richard swung through and grabbed Sergeant Willis, telling him that they knew for a fact what had happened to George Crawley, and if he’d just come up to Downton Abbey with them, they would say. Fortunately, he acquiesced. Mary was the one who let them into the house, and George nearly knocked Thomas off balance with the way he hurtled into him to hug his legs. This made Thomas grin and simply lift the boy up, holding him on his hip again as they went into the house.

“Lady Mary, could you call all the staff into the library?” Richard requested. “I know what happened to George, and I’m ready to wrap this up.

“Certainly,” she replied, and soon enough they were all standing around as he’d requested, with himself situated between Mary and Thomas- the latter of whom still had little George- with Sergeant Willis beside Mary.

Richard smirked a bit as he looked over the staff before him. This was always the most satisfying part, seeing justice play out. Being a detective, and a well known one at that, had its perks, the most notable of which included the fact Sergeant Willis moved the moment he said, “Arrest Sarah O’Brien for the abduction of George Crawley, if you would, Sergeant.” As was predictable, she immediately began trying to protest at which point Richard said, “Thomas, would you be so kind as to tell us what you found in her flat in London? Aside from Master George himself, of course.”

“A drafted ransom note,” Thomas said. “Along with various things required to keep a child alive, which she must have had someone coming in to use for him.”

“She told me herself that Thomas had been to London the day George went missing,” Richard added, “but when I went to check this fact, I learned someone else had used his name to purchase a ticket, in an attempt to frame him for this crime. Fortunately, I believe we’ve wiped out anything connected to that, however.” It didn’t hurt to briefly explain away why they might have found anything connecting Thomas to the abduction. “If you call London and have her flat searched, I think you’ll find all the evidence you need to convict. Which… should make this case closed.”

“Not quite,” O’Brien snapped. “I’d like to know why Mr. Barrow here turned on me, after everything I’ve done for him.”

Before Richard could say or do anything, Thomas was answering her in a calm, collected, overall smooth voice, “Easy. He’s the only person I’ve ever known who really believed I was good.” The two shared a small smile, and Thomas reiterated, “Take her away, Sergeant. We’ll all be happier for it.”

Sergeant Willis did as he was instructed, and Thomas handed George back over to Mary so she could take him up for a nap while the staff filed out, leaving him and Richard alone in the library. Richard smiled at him and took a few steps toward him. “I always like it when a case wraps up neatly like this,” he confessed. “No loose ends left.”

“You must be proud of yourself,” Thomas said.

“And of you.” Thomas’s eyes widened a bit, so Richard elaborated. “You were right. I do believe you’re good,” he explained. “Then again… I do have one complaint about you.”

Thomas lifted a brow. “And what’s that?” he questioned.

“This bloody game of yours,” Richard answered with a chuckle, and Thomas laughed, though he sobered again as Richard stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his waist. “You haven’t got to play it with me,” he said. “You are good, and you cared enough for that child to risk yourself. No more hiding behind that game with me, alright? Think you can live with that?”

Thomas smiled as his arms snaked around Richard’s shoulders, and he gave a soft chuckle. “I think I can live with that,” he confirmed, and Richard grinned before leaning down to finally kiss him. Perfect, just as he had imagined it would be.

When Richard had first seen Thomas standing at the door of a pub, beneath the glow of the moon, he’d had his attention captured immediately. He’d never seen someone whose skin looked so right with the moonlight reflecting off it, even with a shadow cast across his face from the hat he’d worn. But meeting him that night, even if they’d met because Richard had a case to solve, so far seemed to have changed his life for the better. They clicked well as partners, just as he’d told Mary, and Richard suspected that sort of click would spread through to other things as well. At the very least, it was something to explore, and with any luck…

Maybe they’d find a bit of the best kind of trouble along the way.

If you've enjoyed this fic, please feel free to check out my masterlist!

Happy Barris Week!

@barris-week-2022

#downton abbey #barris #thomas barrow #richard ellis #thomas barrow x richard ellis #barris week #barris week 2022

17 notes · View notes

90stvshowgoth · 4 years ago

Text

—THE BET

summary: you thought that as a member of the phantom troupe you were supposed to be smarter than this, yet here you were betting against hisoka. everyone knew that hisoka was a master at poker, cards were his weapon after all, but you couldn’t resist wagering one more bet on a drinking game.

w/c: 4587

tags: dubcon, drunk sex, creampie, blood kink, hate sex, begging, brat taming

a/n: this originally started as a chrollo oneshot, you can kinda tell from how the opening paragraph is about him, but once i started writing the poker game i was like “okay no i gotta make this its own thing,” and because of that decision we now have loose ends getting ch.3 rn :) also no, i couldn’t help but kinda reference phantom of the opera cause it slaps and nobody can tell me otherwise. also, no, before anyone asks, this is a oneshot. it aint getting a sequel.

big thanks to the lovely miss @sealedrosewater for beta reading this clownfucking nightmare.

The heist had gone off without a hitch, Chrollo’s plan worked like a charm and before the night was out you had all flawlessly extracted each and every one of the gilded texts being held in the museum. You still remembered the childlike gleam in your boss’ eyes as he ran his fingers over the aged leather, its binding parchment laced with gold. The faintest ghost of a smile fled from his pallid lips as he admired his new conquest. It made your chest swell with pride, happy to help the man you respected so much. Besides, your cut was nothing to sneeze at.

Your rendezvous was inside a long-abandoned opera theatre where dust clung to the red velvet of the seats and the chandelier was seemingly hanging by a thread; your boss always had a flair for the dramatics. Once all members of the spider had finished reconvening at the empty theatre to gather their spoils it wasn’t long before someone, probably Uvogin, brought out the drinks. Nobunaga had already begun nursing a rum and coke, all while Feitan kept turning down Shal’s insistence to “Just try some, Fei,” Even Shizuku cracked open one of the ice-cold bottles, knocking back an impressive swig. As soon as you saw Machi pulling out a deck of cards you knew you had to stay for the after party.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of your leader. He’d gone to his room with the book you recovered tucked under his arm. A few other members who couldn’t be bothered took after your leader and went off to whichever side room they’d stashed a futon in the week prior; the Phantom Troupe’s equivalent of picking out a bedroom. A shame, really. You’d seen Feitan drunk once before and it was truly a sight to behold.

You sat crosslegged on the wooden floor, watching your comrades slowly get comfortable for a night of fun. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat above you, looking up to see Pakunoda with a soft smile on her face and an opened beer in her outstretched hand.

“Paku, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You couldn’t help but shower the woman with praise. She had been the one who recommended you to Chrollo after all, and she served as your mentor for your first few months until you found your feet.

She scoffed at the compliment, “Far too much,”

Sticking your tongue out playfully at the mindreader, you took a deep sip of beer, enjoying the familiar taste. Paku sat down beside you and it wasn’t long before the two of you were drinking shoulder to shoulder.

“Machi! Deal us in,” You raised your drink to the transmuter and she flicked two cards towards you both.

Scooting away from Paku, you quickly scanned the cards you’d received before pressing them face down. A queen and an ace. Not great, but not awful either.

The others had formed a haphazard circle, each glancing at their cards with an unreadable poker face. Well, all except Hisoka, who seemed pleased as punch with whatever hand he’d been dealt. Silently, Nobunaga took out two coins and threw them into the center— the Troupe’s house rules counting it to be equivalent to 2 billion jenny.

“Call,” you answered, matching the swordsman’s bet with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Oh? Well then, I’ll raise you,” Hisoka purred, pushing five extra chips into the pot without breaking his gaze from yours.

‘What was he planning?’ That smug look of his just made you want to win that much more. The same seemed to be true of everyone else, each calling the clown’s bet in a row. After all, to a member of the Phantom Troupe, five billion jenny wasn’t that much of a loss.

When Machi turned up the first three cards your heart skipped a beat. Two queens and a seven. Winning a round of poker against some of the smartest criminals the world had ever known was an uphill battle, seeing as how you’d been a member for years without winning a single game.

‘Three of a kind already... what should I do?’ Your face was as stone-cold as before, even with the excitement bubbling in your gut. As nonchalantly as you could, you raised another two billion. At that, Uvo and Shizuku both folded, the enhancer grumbling with a disappointed frown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t got enough coins~” Hisoka slapped down a twenty, and a chorus of annoyed groans broke out like a choir, the abandoned theatre’s acoustics amusingly echoed the loud noises of displeasure.

After that little stunt only three others remained: Pakunoda, who’s facade hadn’t cracked all game, Nobunaga, who was glaring daggers at Hisoka, and the aforementioned magician holding up his cards in front of him like a child playing for the first time.

All three of you matched his bet, but none were happy about it. As Machi flipped over the fourth card you found yourself holding your breath. Not because you particularly cared about the money at stake, but because you felt closer to a victory than you had in months. The caricature of a medieval jester being illuminated under the light made you dig your nails into the palm of your hand.

Joker. That meant you had four queens.

It never felt harder to fight a smile off your face than in that moment. Without betraying your excitement, you called, and to your surprise so did Hisoka. Was he bluffing? Or did he have something else in mind? Nobunaga took a deep breath, knocking back the rest of his drink before calling alongside Pakunoda.

All eyes were on the card beneath Machi’s fingertips, the seconds it took to turn the paper on its head filled the theatre with a suspense liable to bring its fragile walls to the ground.

An eight of hearts. Oh well, no big deal.

Nobunaga muttered a curse under his breath, revealing a simple jack and ten of the same suit. Pakunoda was unreadable when she showed the pair of kings she held in her hands. She must’ve thought that the three of a kind would’ve won her the game. The smile on your face felt sweeter after holding it in the whole round, and Nobunaga rolled his eyes when he saw your hand, pushing the pot towards you.

“Well, look at that~” Your victory was interrupted by Hisoka’s insufferable tone, the cards he held up making your jaw drop.

A nine and a jack of hearts. A straight flush.

“That’s bullshit!” You cried, enraged over the loss. It wasn’t even that you cared so much about losing, It only mattered because you lost to him. In an instant you had summoned your nen into the palms of your hands, ready to lunge at the clown when Pakunoda grasped your shoulders, holding you back. Sometimes you forgot how much brute strength was hidden under that pantsuit.

“Just flip a coin, don’t give him what he wants.” Your first reaction was to ignore her, squirming against her iron grip to try and get to Hisoka, who was dramatically scooping all your winnings into his arms.

Uvogin tossed yet another empty beer can over his head, “C’mon Paku, I say let ‘em fight,”

“I concur~” The magician chirped, dramatically stacking each and every coin he’d won while boring his yellow eyes right into yours. His tongue parted his lips, a manic excitement hiding behind the coy expression.

Although every muscle in your body screamed at you to rip into him, you knew you wouldn’t win. He knew your abilities and you couldn’t say for certain you knew all of his.

“Never-mind,” You spat the words out at him like they tasted sour, “You’d probably get off on it anyways.”

A few laughs from the peanut gallery followed your words and Hisoka shrugged, the intense bloodlust from a few seconds ago vanishing as if he’d changed his mind about fighting you on a whim. “You may be right, darling,” your face scrunched up at the nickname you knew he only used to get on your nerves, which it did. “but what if we played a different game?”

Despite how badly you just wanted to ignore him and laugh the night away with all but one of your comrades, you couldn’t turn down the idea of a rematch. Your pride wasn’t nothing to you. “What kind of game?” You asked hesitantly.

He hummed, standing up from the towers of coin he’d made, sauntering over to the cooler of drinks Franklin had provided. After digging around the cold box he pulled out a bottle of fruity tequila and two empty shot glasses.

Your eyes narrowed at the “innocent” smile on his face, looking over to Pakunoda for reassurance.

“You’ll kill him if he spikes my drink, right?” You asked your mentor, who nodded resolutely.

Paku was staring at Hisoka like she was already thinking of ten different ways how to kill him. After sizing him up she flashed you a reassuring nod, “Without question.”

Resolute in your decision, you marched forward, snatching one of the shot glasses from his hand. The stage lights shone above him, making his eyes gleam like the plastic gloss of a doll.

“Shall we begin, then?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What are the rules first?”

He waved his hand in the air, brushing it off, “Nothing too complex, I assure you. The first one who taps out will lose. The loser will do something for the winner. That’s all.”

You still weren’t convinced it could be that simple. “What’s the catch?”

That smirk from before returned to his painted face and he suddenly leaned forward, feeling far too close for comfort. Still, you didn’t step away, your face expressionless as he whispered into your ear. If you did you felt like he’d somehow win whatever stand-still the two of you had on.

“If I lose, I’ll leave the Phantom Troupe,” You reeled away, stunned at his declaration.

Being accepted into the Troupe was the best moment of your life, it always would be. When you looked into the mirror at the tattoo that curled under your ribcage you felt such a warm swell of pride. You couldn’t imagine throwing it all away over some drinking game.

“And...” You blinked rapidly, trying to collect yourself, “If I lose?”

The laugh that echoed from his chest was far from reassuring.

The evening slowly ran into the early morning, each of the other Troupe members wandering off eventually in varying stages of drunkenness. Even Pakunoda headed off to bed after confirming that Hisoka hadn’t spiked your drinks with anything other than a strawberry vodka base. It was unnerving at first, to be completely alone with Omokage’s replacement. Luckily his tastes ran strong, and your vision was spinning before your knew it.

“Match.” Another shot went down your throats, the taste disgustingly sweet, and you watched as his Adam’s apple tensed from the burn.

You’d long since stopped counting how many drinks you’d had, losing track once you got to the double digits. You were both using nen to reinforce yourselves, obviously, but it wasn’t infallible.

‘How is he so good at this?’ You wondered, because as the bottle ran low you started to question just what had made you so confident as to enter a bet with Hisoka in the first place.

“My dear, why not rest for a minute? At least try to enjoy each others company?” His legs were crossed, resting his hand on his palm as he not-so-subtly checked you out. It wasn’t uncommon, and certainly not unexpected from someone like him, but what you hated wasn’t just the nerve of him, but how it made you feel. His scrutiny sent chills down your spine, the unnerving edge to his tone only making you shift your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,” you knocked back two consecutive shots, unable to hide the wince it caused on your face. Good, you wanted it to sting. Anything to take your mind off the magician in front of you.

He pouted as he poured another row of drinks, “Aw, now why’s that?”

You answered his question with another, pointing towards the half-empty bottle of liquor, “Whats in this, really?”

The magician rolled his eyes, “I did pick an unopened bottle for a reason, dear, I do so want you to trust me.”

Without much fanfare he threw back four shots, over your stunned reaction.

“Just give up already, Darling~ I promise to make it worth your while,” You were reaching your limit for sure, but you were far to stubborn to give up without a fight.

“Fuck you,” you took the first of your next four shots slowly, not managing his fast pace.

He grinned a cheshire smile, “Oh, say that again, will you?”

If he were to call you out on the blush slowly spreading across your nose you’d just blame the alcohol, but the truth was that his words just egged you on even more to the point where you were almost—barely even considering...

“What do you mean, make it worth my while?”

He leaned forward like a cat, agile and silent, whispering his words against your temple, “I’ll tell you how I won that hand,” He got you, hook, line, and sinker.

“You’ll tell me how you cheated?”

Hisoka nodded, a clawed hand coming to stroke a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the action far too intimate for someone like him.

There was no way you’d win against him in this match, that much was clear from the very sober way Hisoka held himself against you, inhumanly still, so what did you have to lose?

‘Your dignity,’ A part of you answered back, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d left your dignity behind four shots ago.

“If I lose...”

“If you lose,” He mouthed the words into your cheek, his eyes closed in thought, “You do know what I’ve decided my prize shall be, right?” Of course you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, and the way he nuzzled himself into your neck was far from subtle.

Were you actually so desperate to learn how you lost that you’d sleep with him?

No, you weren’t. But the ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore, and the idea that you could write off what you were about to do behind the excuse of gathering intel sounded like a win-win.

You dug your hands into his hair, not trying to be anything but rough, basking in the moan that spilled from his lips, breath hot against your neck before you yanked him back to meet your gaze.

“Fine. You win, Hisoka,” He smirked, and although he was on his knees he still towered over you, “so how did you cheat?”

Before you could blink his hand had wrapped around your throat, the magician slamming your head into the wood of the stage. You’d had plenty of time to block the damage with your hatsu but the action left your brain rattling inside your skull.

“I’ll tell you later,” He promised, the disorienting blur was slow to fade from the alcohol, and distantly you could feel his other hand stroke your face, his nails like filed daggers trailing over your cheekbones.

“What to do with my prize, then, hm?” He mused, tilting your head from left to right as if examining a block of wood he was about to carve. You coughed on impulse when he let go of your neck, guiding it up instead and taking both your small hands into his palm with an iron grip.

With a flick of his wrist he drew a card, the eight of hearts, seemingly out of nowhere, his nen sharpening it into a thin blade, “Don’t move,”

“Wait... Hisoka, don’t—!” You were far too late to stop him, the frigid air of the ghostly theatre rushing to meet the bare skin of your chest.

Your shirt fell to ribbons along with your bra and you thrashed desperately in his grasp, angry over the loss of your favorite top. He paid your escape attempt no mind, enraptured with the way your tits rose and fell with the timing of your breath and the way you tried to wriggle yourself free.

Still holding your hands to the floor above you, his head bent to wrap a skilled tongue around your tits, a soft sigh involuntarily falling away from you.

“I fuckin’ ha-ate you, Hisoka—ah,” His teeth bit down on your peak at the comment, peering up at you from under his fiery hair.

“Oh? Then why is it you’re moaning like a little whore?” He shifted his weight above you and you saw an opportunity.

You kicked with all your strength between his legs, pulling your knee back and shoving him off with a dig of your shoe into his stomach, “I’m not, don’t call me that shit!”

He actually loosened his grip on you clearly not intending for you to get free from his grasp, a choked sound of what you thought was pain devolving to something much more heated as he stared into you.

“You... are well worth the wait, my dear,” His bloodlust seeped out from every pore, grounding you to the spot. You could usually hold your own against someone like him but it wasn’t hard to see the disadvantage you were at.

Within a fraction of a second he was on you, twisting your waist in his clawed grasp until your ass was hiked into the air, a sharpened playing card slicing through the denim until he could rip it from your legs, yelp echoing like music in the long-silent theatre.

“I knew you’d have some fight left in you,” He crawled forward and you started to realize why he wore exclusively baggy pants, his length hot against you through the fabric as his hips caged you in. As he began to remove that street-performer getup he always wore he’d occasionally curl his hand around your waist to mercifully tug on your ignored clit, your groans muffled and cursed, “I love it. That resilience? It just turns me on.”

You could feel your confidence fade as he tugged those sweatpants down, the weight of him grinding into your ass made all your bravado vanish.

“It will make it so much more satisfying...” He pointed his finger upwards, and suddenly your hands became magnetized to each other, no amount of struggle even budging the rubbery nen substance. “...when I break you.”

Without warning he slid himself inside you, hands holding your hips still as he forced your back into an arch. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the flailing of your bound arms useless as he shallowly began pumping his cock deeper inside you.

Your muffled curses whispered into the floor made him laugh, pulling his hand back and cruelly slapping the vulnerable flesh of your ass without a warning.

“Wh.. Why?”

“Because, darling, I want to hear you beg for me.” He pouted, teasing your clenched walls with only the tip of his slick head.

Despite the desire coursing through your veins you still had your pride in tact, “Never gonna happen, asshole.”

Gripping your hips, he dug himself into your dripping cunt as far as he could, both of you unrestrained with a moan at the feeling of his cock brushing near your cervix, your hips traitorously snapping back to meet his eager thrusts, movement near impossible as Hisoka forced you into the ground.

You cried out softly with each quick pull and stretch, only able to say his name one syllable at a time,

“Hi-so—kah...” It was hard to turn your head to the side from his brutal pace but somehow you manage, craning yourself in order to see him; His head was thrown back with a sheer bliss softening his glistening skin, his eyes closed and lips parted. The sight made your keening grow louder, the simple image of him losing himself in your twitching pussy sending a wave of slick dripping around his length.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because soon enough his was staring at you, his pupils blown wide with desire in a way that made them look like a sun eclipsed, black outlined with a ring of fiery gold.

All at once his hips froze, digging his cock so far as to leave an indent in your pelvis. For a confused second you thought he’d finished, but his gaze was cruel and focused, his lips in a smirk, and you felt no more full than you had a moment ago. He was doing this on purpose.

“Wait, no-nono, wh..y?” You hiccuped, taking his break as a moment to wipe unshed tears from your glossy eyes.

He sighed, “I don’t like repeating myself, darling,” He accentuated the infuriating nickname with a slap to your thigh, face unchanged as he trailed his sharpened fingertips along the reddening skin.

“His..oh.. fuck, Hisoka—“ The banished tears returned, falling silently down your pink face as you whispered, “please,”

“Hmm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, my dear, mind saying that again?

Your voice hiccuped as you spoke, “Please, alright? Please,” You thought it’d be enough, that he might finally go back to toying with your clit while he fucked you into the old floorboards, but you’d underestimated the magician’s self-control.

Innocently, he tilted his head, “Please what, dear? Please hit you again?” Hisoka didn’t blink as he slowly brought up his palm, giving you plenty of time to try and wiggle free from your punishment just to show off how futile escape really was, lashing his hand down on the same patch of skin as before, grinning at the shriek he yanked from your lungs.

“No! No, fu-uck.. just—“ You whimpered, brain seemingly disconnected from your mouth as you struggled to form the words, “just fuck me, Hisoka, please.”

“Look at you, huh? You were a slut after all,” He purred, letting the weight of your words hang lifeless in the air along with your stubborn pride. Before you could argue again his hand had returned to your clit, pace unforgiving as he pulled your nerves ever closer to snapping only to halt the second he grew bored, “Say it,”

Mindlessly, you nodded your head, “I’m yours, I’m your slut, Hisoka,” you intentionally clenched yourself around him, mumbling lucid pleas for more as his hard cock twitched, pre cum dripping from your heat onto the floor as your conscience trying to deny what your body so willingly accepted, “want you to fuck me, Hisoka, fu-ck,” you whined, the still presence inside your sensitive walls drove you insane.

With each word a truly unhinged aura began to surround him, and by extension, you, the intoxicating menace dripping over you like a drug as you faced forward once again, wiggling your ass as best you could in his grip.

That was his breaking point, ripping you away from his cock only to drive himself back in, digging the full blade of his nails into your hips, blood pooling around the crescent cuts.

“Fuck, ah.. Darling, ‘doing so good, so good’fr me-ah,” He slurred his words together, more drunk on you than the vodka as he leaned back, forcing you to meet him as his thrusts became so quick that it was getting hard to breathe, your ribcage creaking with discomfort as you were nailed into the stage.

“M..o-re, more...” You begged, and he was happy to oblige. the smearing crimson of blood running hot down your thighs, the pain only making you more pliant in his sculptor’s hands as he folded your body however he liked, ignoring your pained weep from the stretch as he slung one of your bleeding legs over his shoulder.

It was almost weird to hear him say your actual name, so often he used a pet name to mock or flirt with you, sometimes both, “So good for me like this, taking me so goo-uh,” He choked on his words as your cunt tightened around him, your hands clinging for balance in his hair, and Hisoka clearly didn’t mind if the slew of moans from his lips was any indication.

The angle his hips cut into had the edges of your vision turning into a vignette, “I’m close, so close, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Right here,” The hand that had been toying with your clit changed angles, his fingertips spinning spirals onto your aching bud while the flat of his hand pushed against your stomach, your shout swallowed by his pretty lips, tongue toying with yours.

“Ye-es cum inn-side me,” You were too far gone to care, anything he said sounded good as long as he said it in that sultry purr, arms numb as they lay suspended above your head.

“Take it, take it, Darling,” With what little strength you had left you curved your calf beside his neck, pulling him in until his cock brushed your cervix, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure, “Uhn, cumm-fuck, i’m cumming—“

His cum was thick, the curve of his cock jutting inside you as he filled you up, mercifully swallowing your hallowed scream as he kissed you deeply, almost all feeling in your raised leg lost until he lowered it to his waist, involuntarily snapping his hips up although they had nowhere left to go until your moan turned into a broken sob of lingering bliss.

“Shh, dear, I’ve got you,” With a whirl of his wrist your arms were free of his bungee gum, shakily pulling them to your sides again as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, whispering a slurred mess of sweet words, stopping to suck a particularly deep hickey into the vein of your flesh.

“Hisoka, quit it!” Your fight had returned along with feeling to your fingertips as you wrenched him back by the hair, his cock jumping.a bit inside you at the grip, “I’ll have to wear sweaters for weeks now, you jerk.”

The capillaries had already begun to burst as he laughed, reaching up behind your head to pull his discarded top forward, digging out what looked like a piece of smooth cleaning cloth from its pocket and lying it over your neck with a simple point of his finger, gyo revealing the pink gum of his aura that controlled it before he smoothed the fabric over your skin, the texture so light you could barely feel it.

“A deal’s a deal, love, I’ll tell you how I cheated,” He smiled as satisfied and smug as he could ever be, a tingling sensation overtaking the patch of covered skin.

As he pulled your hand away you ran your fingers over the cloth, not finding a seam among the normal tone of your chest. Eyes wide as you looked at him for answers he was already happy to provide, “It’s called texture surprise. I can apply it to any flat surface and change its appearance. It’s quite handy,”

“It works on skin, paper, even playing cards,” You felt like an idiot. During the match you kept analyzing him for a sleight of hand trick all while he was using a second nen technique to win. It was so simple but genius, and you felt a little bit better knowing you weren’t outwitted by something obvious.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,”

He chuckled, kissing along the new unblemished canvas of your neck, “I know~”

#hisoka x reader #hisoka x reader smut #hisoka morrow #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morrow x reader smut #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #hxh #hunter x hunter

491 notes · View notes

bitch-biblioklept · 3 years ago

Note

Hello there,, I was wondering if you can do a jason grace x reader oneshot where reader is really tired/almost asleep and jason attempts to remove their makeup and do their skincare routine for them? I'm probably also going to write my version on my fan acc 😅 but I'd love to see your take on it! (If u don't really vibe with Jason, headcanons for the seven would be fine too!)

Thanks in advance <3

Thank you for requesting! I hope this isn't too much farther from what you requested, but this is my only skincare routine (I don't normally wear makeup because I am terrible at it)

Tired Party Nights

Coming over to Camp Half-Blood all the way from across the country while monsters chased you and your boyfriend was no easy task. Though with Jason things were a tad bit easier considering he had had longer and more rigorous training than yourself at Camp Jupiter.

It had been just a few hours since you arrived, covered in cuts and bruises then spending your time in the infirmary till Will and Kayla had deemed you fit enough to leave for your cabin had taken up most of your time before you unpacked your stuff on the assigned bunk.

By dumb luck, (or rather the Fates interference) Chiron and Mr. D both had to leave Camp Half Blood urgently, and the senior campers had been left in-charge. So that meant more fun time for everyone.

You knew this was going to be insane when Leo suggested his version of twister to everyone and then Piper joined in the chorus by saying that they should host a party. Percy eagerly agreed, Travis and Connor went ahead and got the Big House ready for everyone, under the guidance of Annabeth and Clarisse to prevent too much nuisance. Jason looked so pretty in the under the setting sun, with his blond hair blown into shape on one side of his head, making his shadow appear as if he had a singular horn.

“Aren’t you going to have them follow the rules, o’ Mister Roman?” you teased as you wrapped your arms around his form, enveloping him in a back hug.

“I think I rather enjoy breaking the rules now,” Jason softly said as he put his hands on yours. “I must say, you and Leo have been great influences on me.”

You kissed his cheek as you looked out at the sun disappearing into the sea, wondering in the back of your mind if you’d ever get to see Apollo’s flying chariot. “Well then, I will say I did an awesome job.”

“That you did.”

The exhaustion that you felt post the game of twister was over had been the worst of the worse. You and Annabeth had been the last two who had been on the floating platform of the twister mat, and then one wrong move had you falling to the floor. Your bones were tired.

Everyone was yawning and some had even fallen asleep. Your head rested on Jason’s shoulder as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

It was Nico and Will who had ordered everyone to retire to the cabins.

Jason supported you as you stumbled to your cabin, lids dropping in protest.

Your cabin was quiet as the two of you entered, and Jason laid you on your bunk. “You haven’t taken your makeup off,” he whispers as you start to fall asleep. “Alright, I’ll do it for you. It won’t take too long, darling. Just a few moments.”

“I’m exhausted,” you mumbled, forcing your eyes to stay open as the blond boy takes out the makeup wipes from your cupboard. You pull off your eyelashes in the meantime to have something to fiddle with, knowing you will regret it later.

A chuckle escaped your mouth as you watched Jason’s focused face, his perfect blond eyebrows drawn together as he cleaned your face up with the remover. Your vision blurred at times, making him appear funnier as he fumbled through your supplies to find your night cream and moisturizer. His calloused fingers were gentle as they tapped the night cream on your under eyes and eyelids, careful not to poke you. His large hands covered your face as he applied the moisturizer, making the both of you chuckle loudly.

“I’m going to get you your pajamas.” Jason decided, disappearing out of your vision as your lids dropped. You were floating in a myriad of sensations and every noise echoed distantly. Vaguely aware of your boyfriend’s hands on you, changing you into a pair of comfortable shorts and tank top, you curled into yourself as sleep coddled you.

“Stay here,” you murmured, unaware that you said it.

“Of course,” Jason promised as he dropped down beside you, curling onto you from behind, gently stroking your arms till he fell asleep.

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #camp half blood #hereos of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #riordan books

90 notes · View notes

jeonjeonggukenergy · 5 years ago

Text

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

5K notes · View notes

kaistrex · 3 years ago

Text

2021 Fic Year in Review

I won't be finishing anything else before the year is up, so I thought it was time for this. No one tagged me but it looked fun so here we go 😂 Edit: Now tagged by @raisesomehale! 🥰

Personal ramblings ahead!

Total number of completed works

Total word count:

161,800+ 😱

Fandoms written in:

Teen Wolf

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Considering at the beginning of January I didn’t think I’d write a goddamn thing or be involved in fandom at all, a helluva lot more haha. This is the most I've written in a single year ever, easy.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Where the Real Beasts Are (yep, I’m still banging on about it 😂) because I persevered with it after 4 years of writing and wrote my first 100k+ fic 🤗

The runner-up is Home though. I’m really proud of the plot idea for that fic ^^

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I think signing up for the big bang was a risk, even though I didn’t realise it at the time! I think in my sign up application, I estimated my fic would be in the 20-30k range, but then it grew and grew to 2-3x that length. I realised around the end of June that the daily word count goal I set just wasn’t going to cut it, so I had to double it to 1k a day, and for the month of July, all I did every evening was sit in front of my laptop and slave away. I’m not built for that kind of level of production haha

I ended up getting it finished and self-betaed (a process which took like 10 hours 😂) 30 minutes before it was due to be revealed to everyone on my posting day. It was not a fun time, and I actually kind of grew to resent the fic haha woops~

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

I’d really like to get my Lonely Stiles fic off the ground. I’ve added another plot thread to it that has turned it into a longfic from the long oneshot I’d planned because there was something missing, so it’s well on it’s way to taking shape. I’d really love to be able to write the whole thing and then post it to a schedule because that’s something I’ve never done before.

I did intend to use it for my big bang piece if I sign up again, but now it’s going to be chaptered, I really don’t want to have to post it all at once per the event rules, so... we’ll see!

Most popular story of the year?

Probably Cloaked in Gold? I’ve never had such a strong reception to a fic before which was especially mind-boggling considering I thought I was just sending it out to die because it had to be posted all in one go.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

Home. The reception for the fic even now it's finished has been pretty soft (the Secret Santa fic I posted 3 days ago is already on it’s way to eclipsing it via kudos by the end of the week 😂) On the other hand though, in the 5/6 years I’ve been writing Sterek, I’ve never had such incredible comments as I got on that fic which I still think about even now, AND it inspired someone to draw art so I really have nothing to complain about 🥰💖💖💖

Most fun story to write:

Probably Lemon & Ginger or The Hand-me-down. Generally when I write, I'll always hit a section where I think I just want this bit to be dooooonnnne, but both of these were short and mostly written over the course of a day, so they came to me pretty easily. They just felt right 😊

Biggest Disappointment:

I’d completely forgotten about this, but now I’m laughing remembering when I ‘un-privated’ a fic I hate because people had been asking after it and sharing pdfs anyway, thinking I’d just do it quietly and it would be there for the people that wanted it and I wouldn’t have to think about it ever again, only to discover that it sent out a notification to HUNDREDS of my ao3 subscribers. That was... unfortunate to say the least 🤣 Does that count?

Biggest surprise:

The reception to Cloaked in Gold. I was blown away by the response to it. I keep getting comments on it with regularity even now, even though usually once something's posted, comments dry up after a few days.

#personal #fic year in review #mywriting #i love an excuse to ramble about this stuff #i have no one else to talk to about it 😂

28 notes · View notes

tomtenadia · 3 years ago

Text

Till food do us part - Rowaelin one shot

Good evening everyone.

I am back with a quick Rowaelin oneshot. This short fic came to me last week while I was in my hotel in Inveress getting ready to check out. Once on the train back to Aberdeen I had two hours and a half and I wrote this.

It’s a simple story and just pure undiluted Rowaelin domestic fluff. I think I had to compensate for the angst in ALB. There’s no angst, just our two lovebirds being their adorable selves.

The title is ridiculous. It took me more time to choose it than to write the whole fic. And it’s still bad. Sorry, I hate choosing titles.

Ach well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy.

Word count: 2.5k

Aelin was in the kitchen all alone, in front of her on the counter she had all the pots and pans she would require to prepare her meal. At one side she had her cooking book and on the opposite side she had lined up all the ingredients needed.

That was meant to be a special night and she wanted everything to be perfect. And because of that she had been nervous. She was not good at cooking like her boyfriend so for her to prepare a full meal from scratch was a monumental task. She just hoped not to burn down the house. He had been teaching her slowly, starting with very simple things but that evening, no matter what she was going to cook for him.

The plan was to prepare everything a part from the dessert which she had bought from the local bakery. Although her boyfriend was not a fan of sugary stuff, the night called for dessert.

She and Rowan had been together for five years. They worked for the same company but on different floors and departments. She was in marketing, Rowan was part of the legal team and was one of the company’s lawyers.

They had a bit of a turbulent start. They met in the cafeteria and Rowan had the bad habit of being always a bit of ahead of her in the queue and always take the last portion of the food she wanted. Far too many times she had ended up eating food she did not want because of him. She had even tried to go to lunch at a different times but the man was always there. Her own personal hell. So after a whole month of that she had decided to take matter in her own hands and slowly plan her revenge. Rowan was a creature of habit, so she spent a few weeks studying him and his routine. Aelin had learned he loved to eat alone. He had friends but the lunch hour was his time to wind down and he did not want any drama or any shop talk. That would make her plan much easier. Eventually she hatched her plan. She started swapping the content of the salt and pepper shakers or even replacing them with other stuff. Aelin had also started making his table sticky or cluttering with empty trays. He still had no idea it was her but she enjoyed watching him muttering and probably cursing whoever did that to him. She had quickly learned that the man was hard to tick off completely. She would notice some small signs of irritation but that’s all the reaction she got, so she decided it was time to go big.

And her final plan came into existence the day the cafeteria served mac and cheese and he took the last portion from her. She was fuming. If she could not have mac and cheese so wouldn’t he.

She waited for him to make his way back to his table and then she walked straight into him. Their trays smashing against each others and the food landing on his shirt. She had muttered a weak sorry and had fled with a grin on her face.

She had later found out that she had made him late for an important meeting and caught hell from his boss Lorcan.

Until one day he started to retaliate. Apparently, she had found out, he knew all long it was her messing with his meals.

And so a long series of pranks had begun between them, most of them taking place in the cafeteria since that was the place they used to share the most.

However, sometimes along the way, Aelin realised pranking him was not fun anymore and that pesky feelings had started to take root in her.

Until one day he showed up in her office with two portions of mac and cheese from Emrys and a peace offering. They had the lunch in the privacy of her office, they talked and she realised very quickly that he was quite a fascinating man. Also, she would have lied to herself if she had ignored the fact that the man was hotness incarnated. He was tall and had a healthy muscular build. He would always wear impeccable tailored suits which made his backside very prominent and more than once her eyes had wandered. He had the most beautiful pine green eyes and she adored his silver hair.

Soon she had to admit that she had a crush on him. And then some.

And when Rowan finally asked her out she could not believe her ears. The sexiest man in the company wanted to go out with her. So she said yes.

Fast forward five years and Aelin was now cooking for their fifth anniversary and as a joke she had put mac and cheese on the menu. It was their dish and their own joke as well.

Aelin had a look at the clock and realised she had half an hour tops before he came back home.

While preparing mac and cheese she took a sip from the glass of wine at her side. She had bought two bottles of Rowan’s favourite wine and she had started the celebrations a bit earlier.

In the oven in the meantime, the pork roast and the potatoes were cooking and she was busy checking the food that she almost missed the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“I am home,” shouted a happy voice.

“Kitchen.” She shouted back.

When she stood she saw him in leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms at his chest and a strange grin on his face “you are cooking?” He asked surprised, raising an eye brow in a question.

Aelin grabbed a glass of wine, took a step closer to him and gave it to him “Happy anniversary, buzzard.” And she went to him for a kiss he did not deny it to her.

“Oh, so you waited five years for your final revenge and win with food poisoning.” Still leaning against the doorframe he took a sip of wine and looked at her with a smirk.

Aelin just glared at him “I can cook.”

“Aelin, I love you, but cooking is definitely not your strongest asset.”

She waved her wooden spoon in his face “I’ll show you.”

Rowan chuckled happily and stooped for a kiss “happy anniversary, menace.”

Aelin moved another step in his direction “now go,” and she patted his chest “get changed and let me finish.”

Half an hour later the dining table was all set, with some candles on to set the romantic mood and a new bottle of win in the middle. Everything looked perfect and she was chuffed.

“This looks lovely,” his voice reached her as he re entered the room and his arms wound around her waist.

“I hope it’s good as well.” She said while pulling back from the embrace and pushing him to his seat.

“Let me help,” he offered but Aelin pushed him again.

“No, just sit down.”

Quickly she went to get the appetisers: she had prepared raw smoked salmon on oatcakes with cream cheese and chives. They had that at a party and they loved it and realised it was something easy to make and almost impossible for her to mess it up. The only thing she had to do was to assemble the ingredients in a nice display.

Rowan in the meantime poured some wine for both and made happy noises at the wine.

“Fancy,” he added, commenting on the appetiser.

“Easy mostly. I took inspiration from the last party we went to.”

Rowan took one of the oatcakes and she relaxed when she saw him smile. Oh well, at least if the rest of the meal was a disaster they could eat oatcakes and salmon.

“Did you have a good day at work?” She asked, she had a day off and she hadn’t seen him since the morning when he left for work.

“It’s the end of the month and as you can imagine Lorcan has been his unpleasant self.”

“I need these reports on the desk by the end of yesterday?” She said, imitating the man’s voice.

Rowan chuckled and took another oatcake “that’s the gist.”

Once the appetisers were over, Aelin stood and went to get the next course. That was the surprise and the dish that meant the most.

She brought the oven dish to the dining table.

“You made mac and cheese.” Rowan’s tone was full of love.

“I did.” She took his plate and was ready to serve him his portion. It looked great and for a moment she had hoped. The recipe was for the baked version and the crust at the top looked golden and crunchy. Then she dipped the spatula to cut it and terror took her. It was runny.

“No, no, no, no, no…” she panicked.

“What happened?” Rowan stood and moved at her side.

“It happened that I should not be allowed to cook.” She sat on the chair and sniffled.

“I am sure it’s not that bad…”

“Ro,” Aelin almost shouted in frustration at his tone “you can drink it with a straw, mac and cheese is supposed to be creamy.”

He looked over “I think you put too much milk,” and with his hand he brushed her lower back in support.

Aelin started sobbing “I messed up the main dish. It was meant to be like the one we shared in my office.”

Rowan was about to reply when he smelled smoke “is something burning?”

“Holy fuck,” Aelin stood abruptly and ran to the kitchen and when she opened the oven a cloud of smoke engulfed her. The roast and the potatoes where charcoal. She sat dejected in front of the oven and Rowan joined and sat at her side “you have the most useless girlfriend ever.”

He brushed her hair off her face “ I do not.” A gentle kiss on her lips “my girl is brilliant, fearless, intelligent and very, very hot.” She gave him a wet chuckle. Gods, she loved him.

“I ruined our anniversary.”

Rowan stood and offered her his hand “you did not.” She took it and stood in front of him.

“We are going to Emrys, he does some amazing mac and cheese.”

“Fine,” she conceded.

Rowan cupped her face, refusing to let her be sad. He knew Aelin was not good at cooking and he had tried to teach her but once on her own she seemed to struggle.

But as the boyfriend madly in love with her he was more than happy to cook for both, everyday, forever.

Aelin did not seem convinced and still pouted at her mess. Rowan noticed that and cupped her face in his hand and kissed het tenderly “Hey, it was a lovely gesture and I am proud of you.” He took her hand in his, “now let’s go.”

They got changed and not long after they were walking to Emrys. Rowan’s arm on around her shoulder.

Aelin looked up at him and noticed a strange light in his eyes and a small grin. Whatever it was, he did not seem bothered by her fiasco.

Once they reached Emrys froze and cursed the evening that was turning into pure hell “it’s Monday, they are close. We are two idiots.” But all Rowan did was to push her toward the front door.

“Ro, they are closed.”

“Shush,” he said gently placing his hand on her lower back.

A moment later Emrys’ smiling face appeared on the door “hello Rowan, come in, it’s all ready.” Said the man stepping aside to let them in.

Aelin was stunned. speechless. He had an evening planned.

She turned to him “did you know I was going to mess up so you had a plan b?” Her tone full with irritation at his lack of trust in her.

Rowan looked at her, his eyes dancing with mirth “I didn’t even know you were going to cook. I booked all of this over a week ago.” He told her “I knew our anniversary would fall on a Monday, so I asked Emrys and Malakai if it was okay to use the place for our dinner.”

She stood on her tiptoes “I love you.” And kissed him. Rowan took her hand and walked inside the main room of the restaurant and Aelin again was stunned. The whole room had been decorated with white fairy lights, the table had candles and there were kingsflames in a vase as well.

“Happy anniversary, Fireheart.” And pulled her to his chest “I hope you’ll love this.”

“It’s perfect,” she said to him, feeling teary.

They sat down and Malakai brought wine “Emrys is just finishing up the last few things, it should not be too long.” Explained the man while pouring the wine.

He came back a moment later and brought back freshly baked pitta bread and hummus “just as a starter.”

Aelin attacked the appetisers, realising she was starving.

Once the appetiser was out of the way Rowan took her hand.

“I am glad I burned dinner, this is so much better.”

They had gone to Emrys for their first date which turned out to be their favourite restaurant and slowly their weekly dinner treat. It had become their place pretty quickly.

She was talking to Rowan when she noticed Emrys walking to them with a large oven dish and when Aelin looked, she saw mac and cheese. And it looked incredible.

“Of course,” said Rowan at her expression and poured more wine. It was a good thing they walked. Emrys plated their dinner and then walked away with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Go on, tuck in,” Rowan said to her once he noticed her eager expression.

Aelin did so and almost moaned savagely. It was divine.

After a few bites Rowan put the fork down and took her hand again, brushing his thumb on the top of it “thank you for walking into me that day in the cafeteria.” He told her, his green eyes on her “I know we had our ups and downs but these five years with you have been incredible.” He stood and took her hand inviting her to follow him. She stood with him and Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest. She wanted to complain she was eating, but whatever he was doing it seemed important.

Violin music spread in the room and Aelin recognised one of her favourite pieces of classical music. He swayed gently as if to dance, placed her hand on his shoulder and held her, his hand on her lower back.

“And I hope we’ll have many more together.” Aelin looked up at him and nodded, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. He kissed her with passion and then he pulled back a little “Aelin, my fireheart, will you do me the honour of joining me in the next adventure of our life and become my wife?”

Aelin sobbed loudly “only if you promise to keep cooking for me.”

Rowan laughed “Always.”

She threw her arms around his neck “yes, yes I will marry you.”

Rowan placed the ring on her finger then lifted her in his arms and kissed her.

He would cook for her, make her happy until his last day.

To whatever end.

#rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #fluff #domestic fluff

88 notes · View notes

quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

was your favorite ; bucky barnes x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 4,152 words

summary — in which bucky barnes still lives with his ex-girlfriend following their break up.

warnings —fluff?? angst?? ex to lovers, sexual innuendo (just one) cursing i think, sad!insecure!bucky

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader

a/n — it too has been long since i got to write for bucky???? anyway i’d love to hear feedback :D also if you choose to follow me please have your age/age range stated in your bio..

tagging — @la-cey @pedropcl @slutforcevans @iloveshawnieboi

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

Buck! Have you seen where my cardigan is?” Y/N was bent down over the dryer as she was ruffling through the pile of clothes she placed on the machine to dry but was too lazy to get it out and fold them. The super soldier being addressed to lifted his head from reading the newspaper to cast a worried glance on the woman, “I don’t know; I just did my laundry and I don’t think any of your clothes got mixed up with mine.”

With a huff she got up from her kneeling position, making her hit her head into the top of the machine, then walked away from their laundry room, groaning and rubbing the part of her head that hit the machine; joining his presence in the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water she pouted as she thought of where her sweater was. “Why are you looking for the cardigan anyway? And which one is it?”

Biting her bottom lip, she avoided eye contact with his blue eyes as she stammered out, “You know, it was the one you gave me.” Placing the paper down on the breakfast bar, he leaned closer and pouted at her, “I’m hurt, doll; I knew we broke up but I never thought you were petty enough to throw away my gifts.”

Squinting her eyes at him with a mocking pout, “Ha ha, you know it’s that I don’t treasure your gifts, Buck.” Feeling left out from the whole conversation, Alpine jumped up on the countertops and snuggled herself to Y/N’s stomach; letting her fingers scratch the white fur of the needy cat, “Al, can you go tell your dad how exaggerated he’s being?”

Scoffing, he snatched Alpine from his ex girlfriend's arms and covered his cat’s whole face with his metal hand as if shielding her from evil, “Don’t you dare play favorites! Not with my child who was mine first before she was yours.”

“Let’s be honest Buck, she always cuddles up to my side every time we watch a movie,” Y/N jabbed at him before moving to get her bag, slinging it on her shoulder. Bucky’s blue eyes followed her form from when she picked up her purse in the living room and was about to speak until the sound of someone knocking on their door cut them both off. “I’ll get it,” She placed a hand on his pec and tapped it, “I was leaving anyway.”

The super soldier was thankful that she quickly removed her palm from his chest so she wouldn’t hear how fast his chest was beating; despite having broken up a few months ago, he still gets flustered under her touch. “Hey Steve, how are you?” The Captain hugged her as he entered their apartment, “I’m good; you going somewhere?”

Nodding, she moved out of their apartment and waved the two super soldiers goodbye, “I am! Meeting up with some friends today; bye you two!” When she left the flat, Steve smirked at Bucky, “I got to say two more months of you two living together or not getting back together and I’m gonna lose this bet I have with Sam.”

Expertly, Steve dodged the crumpled up facial tissue Bucky threw at him as he scowled, “Why are you here anyway, punk?” Alpine jumped off Bucky’s arms and settled herself on her bed by the television as Bucky began cleaning up his mug and bowl. “Well jerk, I wanted to come over and talk about the mission.”

After placing all the utensils in the sink, Bucky looked at his best friend with a scowl, “What mission? We both don’t go anymore and just train the recruits.” Loving how riled up his best friend was being, the former captain chuckled loudly as he held his hands up since he got caught, “Okay you caught me. I was just bored at the compound and wanted to swing by.”

A soapy hand pointed to the door as the brunette said, “Well you swung by and said hi; now leave.” Planting his bum firm on one of the bar stools instead of leaving, Steve shot a serious glance on his best friend, “I will after I get the truth out of you.”

Childishly, the metal hand sprayed some water on the blonde who yelled out in surprise upon feeling his face dampen with water, “Real mature, Buck!”

“Says the guy who visited my home because he was bored and decided to play investigator on me!”

Laughing at his friend’s antics and frustrated tone, Steve sighed, “Come on, pal, be honest with yourself this time; why is it you and Y/N still live together even after breaking up?” After moving to place the set of cutleries to dry, Bucky was wiping his flesh hand with a towel as he looked at his friend with furrowed eyebrows. When he was met however with a mixture of worry and stern glance, the former Winter Soldier sighed as he relaxed his brows and he planted his palms on the granite top, “Well it’s beneficial for the both of us.”

“How is it beneficial? You guys are ex with benefits?”

“Idiot! Not like that,” Bucky quickly clarified, “Economically benefit, with inflation and capitalism increasing the cost of living, it helps us save big on rent.” Steve had his mouth hung agape in disbelief at the bullshit his best friend was selling on him. “Economically benefit? You both can afford a high luxury penthouse with both your salaries alone,” His arms opened wide as he referred to their current flat, “And you chose to live in this compact two bedroom apartment following your breakup? You’re not fooling me, pal.”

After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge and handing one to Steve after he opened both, Bucky gulped down the grainy beverage he sighed out loud as he confessed, “Maybe part of me hopes we both can get back together,” He had to shoot Steve a look when the blonde squealed excitedly at his confession, “But we both just somewhat talked about how much of a hassle it is if we both moved out and during that time we just signed a new lease so it made sense at the time.”

“I didn’t need to learn the last part, you could have just said you wished to get back together and that would have made me happy,” Steve explained before drinking down almost half of the bottle. Rolling his eyes, Bucky walked to the living room and settled himself on the couch — Alpine too followed him and settled herself on his lap, her distinct way of seeking attention — as he stroked her fur and replied, “Well good thing I didn’t really ask for what you wanted, no? Hold on, what are you really here for, by the way?”

Taking the loveseat that was adjacent from where Bucky was sitting, Steve plopped down as he grabbed the remote off their coffee table and turned the television on, “Did you forget that I was coming over to watch the game?”

“And you couldn’t watch it on your own at your living quarter which is bigger and even has the latest television model?”

Steve threw his head back in laughter at his friend’s remark, “Well I could; but the thing is if I didn’t you would probably be grinching your life away,” He tipped his bottle to Alpine who was sprawled over his lap as his metal fingers were delicately scratching her belly, “By the looks of it, you’ve already achieved step one of being a grinch.”

His flesh hand grabbed for one of the throw pillows that Y/N bought first when they moved into this apartment and successfully struck his friend’s head, “Apologize to Alpine this instant!”

A scoff plus an offended look was Steve’s reaction before turning his head back to the game, “Dick! You knew I was kidding! Is this how you are with Y/N, hm? No wonder she broke up with you.”

It was a sensitive topic that Bucky never fully disclosed with any of the friends; somehow he felt that what happened between the two of them should stay with them. And there were many instances where Bucky wanted to tell someone what happened just so he knew how to reconcile with her — but somehow there was always a reason that prevented him from doing so.

“Punk, how would you go about asking your ex to get back together?” His question had the former Captain America smiling; even though his entire face was focused on the game on the screen, the pending conversation had his attention far more than the actual sport. “Well I don’t know, it would depend on how I broke up with that ex.”

Bucky knew what he was doing — he was fishing for more information regarding how things went down. And maybe he does actually have a suggestion. Without going into much detail, he answered, “The breakup seemed mutual and beneficial at first but as time went on it seems to not be the case anymore.”

“What kind of riddle is that, Shakespeare?!”

Somewhat pleased with his confused state, he chuckled, “That’s all the details you’re going to get about my breakup with Y/N,” Part of Bucky was offended with how his Steve let out a disappointed grunt but continued on, “Right now, what’s more important is I get back with her.”

It had been almost an hour and yet the only sounds that could be heard were the announcers detailing the game and the cheers coming from the stadium as the two centenarians thought about how to go about Bucky’s current dilemma. Until Steve broke the silence as he placed his empty beer bottle by the leg of the coffee table, “Why not just be honest and tell her you want to get back with her?”

“It’s not that easy,” Came his quick response; too quick, Steve suspected. Turning slightly to face him, he saw how Alpine now had Bucky’s attention as he baited his metal finger to the feline who was trying her best to bite on it, “It won’t be that easy, at least I think it won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I messed up,” He confessed quietly as he pursed his lips as he recalled how that night went.

“Bubba, did you happen to get the chocolate I asked to buy?” She asked after ruffling through all their cabinets twice, pouting as she failed to see the sweet she has been craving for. He was cleaning the litter box that was in their bathroom so his voice was faint but she heard it loud and clear, “I forgot to, bub; sorry ‘bout that!”

With a sigh, she closed the cabinet door and instead grabbed a glass of water before walking to the dining table, “It’s okay! I’ll just get some tomorrow or some other time.”

As he was washing his hands, he caught a faint glance of her disappointed frown on the mirror. For a few moments, he racked his brain for the other times wherein he saw her frown due to something he’s done. There were far too many instances that came into mind; Bucky didn’t like that at all.

Despite just drying off his hands with a hand towel, he could feel his flesh hand dampen with sweat as he approached her on the dining table and sit at the chair opposite from where she was — something that she noticed, tearing her eyes away from her laptop, making her feel that something was wrong, “You okay, Buck?”

“I think we need to break up,” Came his immediate answer as he stared at her eyes that showed sadness and grief. “What?” Was all that she could choke out as she pushed her laptop to the side so she could direct his attention to him fully.

“I think we need to break up,” He repeated, his voice sounded stronger and more determined than when he said it earlier; but it was just a front for his insecurities and doubts, “It’s something that we both saw coming, but we’re in denial of its approach.”

Tears were now freely falling out of her eyes as she struggled to get out a coherent response, “But Bucky, we can work it out. What is it? Where did I go wrong?” She was to add some more questions but she was stopped by her hiccups.

Both hands grasped hers and rubbed her knuckles soothingly to calm her down, “I’m sorry Y/N, but this is just for the best for the both of us. It’s better we part our ways now rather than later when my ivy has fully engulfed your brick walls that you have put up.”

Snatching her hands from his hold, she crossed her arms, “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Buck. tell me the real reason why you want us to split.” Gone was her earlier tone of sorrow and was now replaced with shaky strength.

When he just looked at her blankly silently, Y/N just bit her lip as she grabbed for her laptop as she scrolled for a certain email; and when she found it, she showed the screen to her now ex boyfriend, “Guess it was a wrong time to sign for a year-long lease huh?”

“We can still live together for the time being,” His immediate answer surprised the two of them and he decided to cover it up by explaining, “We don’t want to pay an additional fee for infringing the contract. Plus that saves us a whole lot of money for when we move out of here.”

Her mind was foggy with sadness which prevented her from thinking logically so she found herself nodding, “Okay, that makes sense.” She took her laptop from his look and began to search for a new bed frame and mattress. “I’ll move to the spare bedroom and get my things later on.”

Following her drying of tears, she now had a determined pout on her face as she began to scout new items for her bedroom, Bucky came to realize the weight of what he had just done. At the expense of her broken and devastated state, he spared his insecurities and doubts. But he didn’t feel even an ounce of relief, instead he just felt miserable seeing her become so detached from him; it’s your fault, you idiot, he scolded himself.

“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna lay down for a while,” She merely nodded when he stood from the his seat and grabbed Alpine that was on his playing with his toes; as he laid his back on the soft mattress were they both spent time and created some of their best memories, he couldn’t help cuddle the feline closer to him as he now looked back on those memories wistfully, “Looks like you’re gonna be my cuddle buddy from now on, Al.”

“Idiot!” Steve yelled after hearing the story and throwing the pillow back to Bucky with the cushion that was thrown to him earlier, “Let’s unpack what you did wrong here; one, you broke up with her because of your insecurities instead of working on it yourself or with her.”

Bucky had a deep scowl on his face and was about to rebut until Steve held a hand up to let him know he was not yet done listing things, “Two, you didn’t even really give her the option on whether she wanted to break up or what. And lastly, you decided to still live together despite splitting under the guise of not paying more due to infringing the lease and moving out, but you guys have two months left before you have to renew or end your contract! What the hell’s your plan after?”

When Steve said it like that, it did look even worse than it initially was. The former assassin could only groan out loud as he removed his hands from stroking Al’s whie fur and instead covered his face in shame, “I know! I was dumb, and still am! I just want Y/N back, okay?”

Steve silently chuckled as he took in his friend’s whine and Y/N’s stunned look as she had just arrived from going out. Noticing the lack of white fur ball on his lap, he removed his hands from shielding his face as he looked at Steve, and was puzzled when the blonde was smirking but did not have the cat.

“Where?” The question died on his throat as he heard her soft mewl and looked to his right to see Y/N cuddling Alpine in her arms, “Hi, I just got home.” The blank expression she had made it difficult for the two super soldiers to read her; Steve however knew that the two needed privacy in order to talk.

“Well I’m heading out,” The former Captain America stood up and patted his best friend’s shoulder as a way of saying goodbye and good luck, “See you both soon.” He kissed Y/N’s forehead goodbye and left the former lovers.”

“Do you want to talk about what I just heard you say or do you want me to forget about it, Buck?”

Being with her for nearly three years he knew that once her interest was piqued, it would be difficult for her to lose her interest in it as she would do anything to feed her curiosity. “What would you rather do?”

This was new, for the previous times they had confrontation he had decided for her; and to be able to choose for herself — and possibly for the both of them. “I’d like to talk about it; if it’s fine with you of course.”

He gestured for her to take the seat beside her — which she gladly took after placing her bag on the dining table and carrying Alpine with her. “I heard you saying you wanted me back — is there any truth to that?”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded a mixture of confident and desperate; but he didn’t care as he just wanted her back, “I want you back and it was a mistake on my part to let you go.”

“But why did you let me go?”

“Because I was an insecure, self-doubting coward. Do you remember the day when I broke up with you?” She nodded her head as she scoffed, “Obviously, I do.” Her sass had him chuckling, lightening up the mood a little. “Well that day, I saw the look of disappointment on your face when I failed to get you chocolate. I thought that if I can mess this small thing up, what more when it comes to more important things — like an anniversary, a mortgage payment, important events, and things like that.”

Her hands reached out for his and gently kissed the knuckles to calm him down as he was now breathing heavily as he continued to open up to her, “I always knew deep down in me that you deserved to be with someone as great as you; and believe me everyday I tried to be that person. But slowly I saw not only how I wasn’t living up to be the person you deserve, but somehow I just wasn’t making you happy any more.”

Despite letting out what he had been bottling up, Bucky felt both heavier and lighter; lighter because now he had told her the real reason as to why they fell out and what has been haunting his mind for months now. But the fact that she now had a say on what goes on between them made him even more anxious compared to how he would be when going on dangerous missions.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this battle alone, bubba,” Her statement coupled with her use of their pet name for each other had his heart twisting in a good way, “I wished you had reached out to me so that we both could work through this.”

“You’re not mad? Or disappointed? Or disgusted with me?”

She shook her head as she once again placed a loving kiss on his knuckles, “Why would I do so? You were dealing with anxieties and doubts, I can’t exactly blame you for those can I?” He shrugged his shoulders as he avoided looking her in the eyes, “But still,” Came his weak reply.

Clicking her tongue, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head to her chest so she could cuddle and comfort him as they were somewhat laying down on the couch, “Next time you got something going in your head, you talk to me, okay?”

He nodded against her chest and he couldn’t hold back the soft whine of happiness when she kissed his forehead, “I meant what I said, that I want you back.”

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” She stiffened against his hold; Bucky stood up from where laid comfortably and took her with him, looking her straight in the eye with passion, “It is, bubba. I swear.”

“I don’t know, Buck,” She replied weakly and avoided looking him in the eye, “Maybe this is just your way of easing your guilt and making amends with your past talking. You don’t have to lie, not to me.”

“It’s not, I promise,” He placed his hands on her waist, grabbing her to situate her on his lap, “I love you and I never stopped, nor will I ever. You are someone I can never get sick of — I will always want to be with you, no matter if we do something fun and exciting or something mundane and domestic. I want all of you and want to share my life with you.”

“But what happens when you get those thoughts again? Will you leave me hanging again?”

Hating how small and meek her voice was, he shook his head as he kissed the tip of her nose, “I won’t. Like you said, I’ll work on it alone and with you. I love you, bubba.” She could see no sign of lies or deceit in his eyes and loved what she was hearing — he was a man of his word and knew that he wouldn’t boldly claim such a thing if he had no plans of following through with it.

“I can give you time to think about it if you’d like,” The proposition left his tongue as she suddenly kissed his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even more closer. He smiled into the kiss as he rubbed her back soothingly, missing the heat that radiated off her skin.

“No time needed to think about it, bub,” She breathed out after pulling away from the kiss, her lips still against his, “I want you back too.”

“I hope you’d still want me back even after my final confession.”

She pulled away from him completely so she could take in his nervous smirk, “What final confession?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he disclosed, “I took the cardigan from the dryer.” She laughed at his silly confession before asking, “Why’d you do it, bubba? It smelt like you and I dressed it up on one of my pillows because I missed you.”

Slapping her hand to his pec, she pretended to be upset before laying her head on his chest, “Well I hope it made your lonely nights better! I had an important reason to wear that today.”

“Oh? And what could that be, missy?” He tickled her sides to get her to speak; after a fit full of laughters she did, “Well I was going out with Rachel and she decided to bring along her friend in hopes of setting me up with them.” By wearing the cardigan, Y/N knew that the person Rachel invited over would be less persistent to pursue since the words “James Buchanan Barnes’ property” were sewn on a patch on the clothing article — a gift Bucky gave her when they passed the one year mark of their relationship.

“So you were cheating on me!” He jokingly accused her to which she pinched his ears as she reminded him, “Excuse you! I was being set up with someone before we got back together — it’s not cheating you know!”

He too laughed at their whole debacle before he stroked her cheek with the flesh hand saying, “I missed you so much, bubba.” She was about to share the same sentiments before they got interrupted by a needy cat who placed herself in between Bucky and Y/N.

“I think Al missed being in the middle of our cuddle sessions too, bubba,” She noted as the cat purred when she and Bucky were scratching the space in between her ears.

With a large grin on his face, he tickled Alpine as he kissed Y/N fervently on the lips, “Look Al, we’re one, happy, and complete family again.”

#quietmyfearswith #please dont steal my work thank you #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x fem!reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst

343 notes · View notes

unloved-cadillac · 4 years ago

Text

My Sweetheart.(A Levi x Reader Oneshot)

I found this writing prompt on Pinterest but you can find writing.prompt.s on Instagram.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 2.5𝗄

It’s been years since high school. You left everything behind in Sina and moved to London to pursue your art career and it took off. But now after your art had all been successfully sold and some displayed in art museums, you decided to move back home to teach art at Sina College.

You didn’t come back empty handed. Hange, your close friend who you met in London, landed a job here as well. So, making things easier you offered to share an apartment with her and she agreed.

“So, are you going to hang up your art like how you did in London?” Hange asks and you shake your head. “Nah. I’m not so narcissistic.” You say and place a box on the floor. “Narcissistic? Your art is beautiful and deserves to be displayed!” She shouts and you laugh. “Thanks for the compliment, Han. But after the gallery did so good back there and everything got sold, I have to make some more.” You explain and walk into the kitchen with Hange following close behind. “Yeah. I wonder who bought all of those paintings. They paid double the price, isn’t it?” She asks and you nod. “I wish I could’ve met them. Whoever they are to thank them. They technically saved me from going bankrupt.” You joke. ”Oh! That reminds me. Can you run down to the store and get some snacks? I’m starving here!” Hange holds her stomach in mock hunger. “Ugh. Now I need to change. I was going to the store anyway, but I need to run down to the bank to withdraw some cash.” You say and head to your room to put on some reasonable clothes and grab your bag on the way out.

Luckily, your apartment was set in a very convenient location from the mall, small stores and banks. It really was a jackpot apartment. Walking into the bank, you stand in the cue and wait. Playing on your phone and listening to music, you see the line started to move. When you came up to the counter, you remove your earphones and look at the girl behind the glass. “Hi there. I came to make a withdrawal.” You say and take out your bank details and card. “How much do you-..” “EVERYONE HANDS UP! DON’T MOVE!” You hear and turn around to see men with black masks on with guns in their hands, aiming it around. Oh great. I’m going to die, you think and look at the people. One of them moved past you and you carefully moved your hands up. On their right arms, they had white and blue wings patched into it. Some sort of gang? Another masked man, caught your eye and you could see his eyes widen and started to panic. “Yo! Roll out.” He says, still looking at you. “What?! Why?! We didn’t even get the money!” One says and looks at his leader. “That’s her. We can’t do this while she’s here. Don’t aim at her. MOVE OUT!” The leader says and runs away while others look at you, while lowering their guns. They turned around and headed out of the bank, leaving everyone in shock and looking at you. You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and hold your chest. “Who are you?” Someone asks you. You look at them, still in shock. “Just an ordinary person.” You say, breathing heavily. “Well, you just saved our lives and the bank from getting robbed.” They say and you furrow your eyebrows. What the hell?

~~~~~

“So they just left?! Just like that?!?” Hange yells out and grabs your shoulders. “Yeah. It was so weird.” She hugs you, squeezing you a bit. “I’m so glad that your okay!” She says and you pat her back. “Yeah. I’m fine. But I still don’t know what to think.” You say and sip your whiskey. You think of the situation and those patches. “Hange.” You call her and she hums. “They had this symbol. A white wing overlapping a blue one. Any idea?” You ask and she taps her chin before going to her laptop. You leave her to do her thing as you hear the clicking of keys. “Come here. And check this out.” Hange says and you walk to her, sitting on the arm of the sofa. You look at her laptop screen. “This symbol is the Wings of Freedom. It’s a symbol of the crime syndicate called “Titan’s of Death”. Ugh, scary.” Hange says and you scroll down. Members were over one thousand and they were everywhere but most were situated here in Sina. “It says here people who don’t pose a threat to the Titans are on a No Harm list. The list isn’t revealed to protect the identity of them but it’s said to have only a few names. Y/n! What if your name was on there?!” Hange shouts and you scoff. “Why would my name be there? I’ve never heard of these people before.” You say and cross your arms. Hange scrolls further and comes across the leader of the group. You had left the sofa to go get your whiskey from the counter when Hange spoke up. “Do you know a “Levi Ackerman”?” You stop dead in your tracks and look at her. Levi? No it can’t be. “Do you have a picture of him?” You ask and she nods her head motioning to the laptop. You walk slowly to her and look at the laptop. There he was. Levi. The boy who had your heart all these years. Your high school sweetheart. “Levi.” You whisper and touch his picture. He kept the undercut. His face had lost his little baby fat he had when he was younger and became chiseled. He looked so handsome. You smile a bright smile while blushing furiously. “Y/n! Who is he to you?! He’s making you blush and it’s just his picture!” You look up to her, still smiling brightly. “He’s an...while I can’t say ex. But we dated back in high school. We ended things because I had to move ASAP to London and he couldn’t come with me. But, God I loved him. It broke the both of us when we had to leave.” You recall the memory.

It was sad. That was the only time you had seen Levi cry and just thinking about his face like that made you ache. “Why didn’t you two keep in touch?” Hange asks and looks back at his photo. “We tried. But life had other plans for us. His social media disappeared and numbers changed. Mine did too and once I lost his number I couldn’t find him again.” You explain, while staring at his photo. “Maybe it’s because he became the leader of this place and couldn’t risk having his number everywhere.” Hange reasons with you and you agree. “Yeah. Seems about right.” You sniffle and wake up while holding your cheeks. All of the memories that you had with him came flooding back in and all of the love you had for him clouded your mind and heart. You turn to Hange and smile. “Where is the Titan of Death’s headquarters?” You ask and Hange looks through the page. “Oh. It’s right here. Downtown though. Oof. Dangerous. Wait. Don’t tell me..” “Yes, Hange. I’m going to see him.”

Later that night, you logged into your old iCloud account, the one you had in highschool. It was filled with old pictures of your friends from back there and...Levi. You two went out for two years. Although it may seem a short time to others, to the both of you, it felt like eternity. You chuckle at all the funny pictures you took with him. One where he stayed over for the first time, while he slept, you drew all over his face. There was another one where you both were sharing a coke with two straws. You had yours in your mouth and looked at the camera while Levi had his in his mouth and looked at you. That was a good day. You go back to your browser and look at the opened tab with Levi’s picture. For a 25 year old, he didn’t look a day over 21. The Ackerman gene, huh? You smile at what he will think seeing you after all these years. You were very confident in seeing him again. After transferring some photos to your current phone, you go to bed but only slept two hours later since you were so excited. So you drifted into a dreamless sleep after thinking about Levi.

~~~~~

Waking up a bit earlier than usual, you pick out a good outfit and smile. You couldn’t stop smiling because that’s the effect this boy had on you. He made you feel so happy and safe and loved, which made you think about what would have happened if you didn’t break up. If he moved with you to London. Both of you would probably be married by now. But snapping out of that thought and jumping the gun, you head out of your room to see Hange watching TV. You stand in front of it and show off your outfit. “What do you think? Too much?” You ask and Hange squeals. “Oh, Y/n! It’s perfect. I still can’t believe your ex is a mafia boss.” She says and you laugh. “Me neither. But I have to see him again. I never knew how much I missed him until I saw his picture. Now send me the directions and I’ll see you later, Han.” You say and wink at her. “Stay safe. Take pepper spray please.” She says and you show off your can. Heading to your car, your phone dings with Hange’s tone. You see she sent the directions and you skip to your car. Levi.

Driving with the GPS on, you head into downtown Sina. You had never been here and you remember Levi saying all those years ago that you should never head there alone. Well, too late now baby. A lot of people walked around openly with their guns in their hands or holsters. You weren’t afraid. If you were in Levi’s ‘No Harm’ list, you were sorted. You have arrived at your destination. You hear your GPS say and you look at the big ass gate. It was black with a whole lotta cameras and whole lotta guards. Rolling down your window, you look at the camera and at the guards. One of them walked to you. “What business do you have at the Ackerman mansion?” He asks and you clear your throat. “H-hello there. I’m Y/n L/n. Levi is…” You get cut off by the man shouting. “She’s good. Let her in!” He turns back to you and smiles. You smile back and thank him. You drive to the house and park next to another car. Hopping out, a tall man waits for you. You walk up the stairs and the man greets you. “Hello, Ms L/n. I’m Mike Zecharius. The Boss would see you shortly. He’s in a meeting right now, so please, head inside to the main lounge while you wait.” He explains and you smile. “Nice to meet you, Mike. Thank you.” You say and walk into the house and wow. Was this place huge. It was a combination of white, black and grey. But mostly white. So Levi. You walk into, what you hoped was, the main langue and looked around. The walls had paintings and you furrow your eyebrows. Making your way around the big room, you realized: these were your paintings. Most of your work was proudly displayed here. Oh. Levi. It was you. You think and bit your lip to suppress a giggle. The one that caught your eye was the one that was in the middle of the wall. It was one of the first ones you painted which you had gifted Levi for his birthday. It was painted on black paper while you used only white paint. It was two albino peacocks by a lake, one had their head on the others with the words, “ ‘We Loved With a Love That Was More Than Love.’- Edgar Allen Poe.” You smile at the memory and the message that was written behind it. “Happy birthday & Merry Christmas, Levi” you start to say while running your hand on the frame, “My days have been so much happier since you entered my life. Thank you. It’s you, because..” “Because no one else makes sense.” You heard a voice complete the message and you turn around to see him. Standing there, with his full black suit and his hair in the same style from all those years ago. You smile so much and you could feel tears form but quickly wipe them away. “Levi..” you whisper and he smiles back to you. “Y/n.” He says and walk to you. You’re so overwhelmed by happiness that you just hide your face in your hands. You felt him right in front of you and you look up from your hands to be met with the sight of his chest. God, he smells so good. You feel his hand on your cheek and you look up at his face. He looked so much better in person. “Hello, sweetheart.” He says and you smile. “I-, oh my gosh. Levi. It’s you. It’s really you.” You say and move your hands around his neck and hug him. You tuck your face in his neck and smile. “It’s me.” He simply says and hugs you tighter.

You pull away from him, but still in his embrace and sigh. “What happened? I lost all contact with you.” You say and he moves a stray hair behind your ear. “It’s such a long story, Y/n.” Levi says. “How about you tell me over dinner?” You say and he raises his eyebrow and smirks. “Dinner? I can make that happen. Tonight? 8?” He asks and you nod. “Wait. Yesterday, at the bank..” you start to say and he smiles softly. “When I became the leader here, I was given the option of a ‘No Harm’ list. Your name was the first one I wrote down.” He says softly and you smile. “Oh, Levi.” You smile and look at him. As you were about to say something again, both of you were interrupted. “Boss, sorry to disturb. But there’s an urgent call for you.” One of his men say and he scoffs. “Tch. Alright. I’ll be there just now. Tell them to wait.” He says and looks back at you. “I’m sorry. But dinner..” “I’ll see you at 8.” You say and start to walk away but stop suddenly and bite your lip. You turn back and walk up to him and kiss his cheek. “Call me, okay?” You say and place a card into his pocket. Levi nods and watches you walk away while grazing his finger along his cheek. He could still feel your warm lips on them. He takes out the card and looks at it.

Y/n L/n Arts.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Xoxo

He smiles softly and puts it in his inside pocket. Levi never wanted a day to go faster than right now. He had to let you go 7 years ago and he’s not going to make that mistake again.

———————————————————————

“I live for Mafia Levi.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

331 notes · View notes

kirishimaswife2819 · 4 years ago

Text

Cheesy Romance || Denki Kaminari x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Denki Kaminari x Reader

Requested by Anonymous: May I request one where the reader is just unapologetically whipped for Denki and makes it their life task to just. Romance him in the cheesiest way. Make him blush. Make that boy feel loved. He deserves it. Either way, thanks for sharing your writing, I'm excited for every new post!

Summary: You’re whipped for Denki Kaminari and flirt with him all the time, and eventually one day he confesses his feelings to you

Word Count: 1.7k

Notes: a/m=action movie, y/f/c=your favorite candy, and d/f/c=denki’s favorite candy (idk what his favorite candy is, so you can make it whatever you think it would be)

A/n: You didn’t specify what kind you wanted, but I assumed you wanted headcanons, but I totally ignored that assumption and decided to turn it into a little drabble about them getting together, but then I got carried away and this ended up being longer than I intended it to be, so I hope that is okay. I kept the same idea about the reader being whipped for him, and flirty, I just turned it into a oneshot instead of headcanons. I also added in a scene of them going to the movies together and I don’t know how movie theaters work in Japan, but I’m sure it’s similar to how American movie theaters work, so I just went with that. Anyways, thank for requesting! I hope this is okay! - Danielle <3

“Morning Kaminari!” You happily said, walking into the kitchen. Kaminari was sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Morning L/n,” he replied.

“How did you sleep last night?” You asked, pouring yourself a cup of tea/coffee, but before he could answer, you spoke again, “Do you want some?”

“No thanks,” he replied, “And I slept good.”

“That’s good!” You replied, “Do you have any plans for today, since we have the day off?”

“Yeah, Kirishima wanted to go see some new action movie,” Kaminari explained.

“Ooo, do you think I could come along?” You asked.

“I don’t see why not, check with Kirishima first though,” Kaminari said, giving you a small smile.

“Okay! I’ll go do that!” You said, walking away with your cup of tea/coffee in your hand.

Ever since you got to know Kaminari, you were always so flirty and sweet with him. He honestly wasn’t used to it. Usually, he was the one flirting with girls, who didn’t flirt back or show any interest in him. But you had approached him and started being nice to him, and your flirting actually worked on him.

He could still remember the first time that you had made him blush, which was a rare occurrence for him.

For whatever reason, everybody in class 1-A had agreed to meet up and watch the sunset together. Everybody was sitting on blankets, with some snacks, all talking together. You were walking around, trying to find somewhere to sit. Ochaco and Izuku invited you to go sit with them, but you rejected their offer and instead, approached the blanket that Denki, Bakugou, Kirishima and Sero were sitting on.

“Hey guys! Can I sit with you?” You asked, smiling at them.

“Fuck no-” Bakugou started but Kirishima cut him off.

“Sure! Go right ahead L/n! We have plenty of snacks!” Kirishima said, giving you a big smile.

“Thanks,” you said, sitting down in between Sero and Denki. You took the drawstring bag from your back and opened it, “I brought some snacks.” You took the bag of chips from the bag, along with a few different types of candy, and a few kinds of snack cakes.

“Wow, L/n! This is great, thank you,” Sero said, opening the bag of chips.

“Yeah,” Kaminari added on, “Thanks L/n.”

“Oh, Kaminari, I got you something,” you said, pulling one last thing from the bag, “I heard you telling Kirishima that they were your favorite.” You handed him a bag of his favorite candy, and his face lit up.

“Thanks! You’re so nice,” Kaminari said, opening the bag of candy, and eating a few, “Want some?”

“No thanks, I’m not really a big fan of those,” you replied, instead opening one of the snack cakes and eating it. After that, you all talked for a while. You and Kaminari were laughing at something the other had said, and eventually you both stopped, with huge smiles on your faces. As you looked at him, you noticed a little plant growing out of the ground behind him. You reached forward and past him, picking the little daisy out of the ground.

You returned to your previous position, spinning the daisy in between your fingers. After a moment, you made eye contact with Denki and gave him a small smile, before reaching forward and tucking the daisy into his blonde locks of hair.

“Can I take a photo of you? You look really cute with that daisy in your hair,” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. Denki nodded, not being able to say anything, as you came up beside him and held the phone out in front of the two of you, making sure the two of you were in frame, before speaking again, “Smile!”

And now, you had a photo on your phone of you and Denki, in which Denki had a daisy in his hair and a light pink blush on his cheeks.

Sometimes, Denki couldn’t believe that you actually liked him. At certain times, he figured it was some cruel joke that his friends were playing on him, and that you didn’t actually like him, but then again, you flirted with him way too often to not actually like him.

Denki found himself being oddly nervous around you, for some reason. He had met and flirted with plenty of girls, but there was something about you that made him nervous to mess up in front of you. It was probably the fact that you had been the only girl to show interest in him and actually try to flirt with him.

He would be lying to himself if he said that your compliments didn’t make his day, because they one hundred percent did. He could be having the most shitty day, no matter whether he had slept bad, or Bakugou had said something mean to him, or he had failed a test, one flirty compliment from you and his whole day was better.

Kaminari was snapped out of his thoughts by your voice.

“I’m back! I talked to Kiri and he said I could come, this is going to be so exciting,” you said.

“Yeah,” Denki replied, smiling at you, “I’m glad you’re coming.” “Me too," you replied, filling your cup back up, “I should go get ready. See you later!” “See you,” Denki replied, watching as you walked away and back to your room to get ready.

“Six tickets for a/m, please,” Mina said, giving the money that you had all handed her to the worker. Everybody paid for their own ticket, besides Kaminari, you had insisted on paying for his and it was clear that you weren’t giving up, so eventually, after Bakugou screamed at him to just take it, he did.

“Here,” the worker said, handing her the slips of paper. Then you all took turns getting your own popcorn and drinks.

“Wanna share a popcorn with me?” You asked, looking at Denki, giving him a little wink, causing him to blush a bit.

“I guess, but I’m paying this time,” Denki said, going to pull the money out of his pocket.

“Nope,” you replied, taking the money from your own pocket.

“Why not!?” Denki exclaimed.

“Cause I don’t want you wasting your money,” you explained, as Bakugou finished getting whatever he wanted. Kirishima went next.

“But you’re wasting your own money on me,” Denki pointed out.

“It’s not a waste if I’m spending it on you, Kaminari,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Denki,” he said.

“Huh?” You asked, giving him a confused look.

“You can call me Denki,” he explained, causing you to smile.

“Okay, Denki,” you said, “You can call me Y/n if you want.”

“Can you two stop fucking flirting and tell the lady what you want!?” Bakugou yelled, making you realize that Kirishima had finished.

“Sorry,” you said, “I’ll take a large popcorn, with two drinks, y/f/c, and d/f/c.”

“Okay, that’ll be $18.23,” the worker said, and you handed her your money, before she got your popcorn, and candy, and handed you to empty cups to get your own drinks. You handed Denki his candy and empty cup, before going over to fill up your own drink.

Denki followed you over, and got his drink, before you got yours. Then, you two headed back over to the rest of the group and went inside the theater. Bakugou made sure you guys were early so you got good seats. You ended up sitting in between Mina and Denki, with Denki having an empty seat beside him.

“This is exciting,” you said, eating some popcorn, “I haven’t been to the movies in a while.”

“Yeah,” Denki responded, eating some of the candy you had gotten him. He was about to speak again, when you pulled out your phone, and unlocked it. His eyes went wide when he saw what your background photo was and he almost spit out his candy. There was a light blush on his cheeks as he spoke again, “Is that the photo you took of me with the daisy in my hair?”

“Oh, yeah. Would you like me to send it to you? You could make it your profile photo on something, you look cute in it,” you said, smiling at him.

“No, I mean, sure, I guess. But why’d you make it your background?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I really like you and it’s no big secret that I do, but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can change it. I just think you’re really cute, and a really great person, and I don’t think you get told that enough,” you explained, shrugging. Denki couldn’t believe what he was hearing, sure, he knew you liked him, but he didn’t think it was that much.

He was about to speak, but he was cut off, by the sound of a video ending. He looked over to see Mina holding up her phone and smiling.

“You two are so cute!” She said, bringing her phone back down to look at the video she got. You rolled your eyes, and jokingly hit her arm.

“Do you know the definition of privacy?” You asked, fake glaring at her.

“Nope,” she replied, smiling at you, before looking back to her phone.

“Hey, Y/n?” Denki asked.

“Oh, yeah, did you want me to change my background?” You asked, looking back to him.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to. I just,” Denki said, taking a deep breath, “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me sometime?” Denki half expected you to reveal that you were joking the whole time and that you didn’t really like him at all. He had been rejected so many times, and he was really worried that you would reject him as well.

“Wait,ser iously?” You asked, your face lighting up, “You really want to go on a date with me!?”

“Yeah,” Denki replied, giving you a small smile.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, “I’d love to!”

“Are you two going to stop being fucking cheesy all the time, now?” Bakugou asked, interrupting, “It makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Sorry, Bakugou, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to get a million times cheesier,” you replied.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Bakugou said, sighing.

“Aw, it’s okay Bakubro, at least we don’t have to listen to Kaminari talking about liking her now,” Kirishima sat, patting Bakugou’s back as he slammed his head into the seat in front of him.

And that was the beginning of your wonderful and cheesy relationship with Denki Kaminari.

#denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #denki #kaminari #x reader #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha oneshot #mha oneshots #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot #my hero academia

180 notes · View notes

vickyvicarious · 4 years ago

Note

do u have any atla fic recs? all time faves? can be shippy or not

Fun fact, I am incapable of holding back on reclists. In other words: brace yourself, anon. There’s a reason I put most of this behind a cut.

First off, these are almost all Zuko-centric, because I shamelessly play favorites. I’ll sort them by author rec, gen, shippy, and then by other characters because honestly the numbers break down well that way. Within those categories it’ll be more just as I think of it, so no special meaning to the order. I’m not always good about bookmarking even my faves, so some excellent stuff will no doubt be missing, especially since I haven’t read a lot of the more recent stuff yet/forgot some really old stuff, but this will definitely still give you plenty of fic to enjoy.

There’s a good number of FFN links on here so apologies to people who dislike it, but a lot of great stuff is still on there so give it a chance.

Author recs

Everything by @awesomeavocadolove Such hits as Another Brother (Zuko adopted by Hakoda pre-S1), and currently has a Zukka soulmate fic I’ve been meaning to start reading, as well as Unchained Melody, one of my favorite Zukka fics ever. Always quality, you can’t go wrong.

Everything by KimberlyT. I do not kid. She’s written a variety of ATLA fic ranging from Zutara/other romance to gen, seriously emotional to cracky cabbagebending. I think my favorite is probably Mismatched (S1 Zuko adopts a baby) but honestly just go read it all.

Everything by @emletish-fish. She has a very fun writing style and honestly her end-of-chapter notes on why she’s made the choices she has are fun minimetas worthwhile in their own right. Some of her top fics are the Stalking Zuko series (S3 suspicious Katara to Zutara) and The Worst Prisoner (the Gaang kidnaps Zuko in S1 and can’t get rid of him). I think there’s still a good amount of her fic that can only be found on FFN so check there too.

Everything by @botherkupo. Especially her Undying Fire series (healer!Zuko) but also just literally everything she writes, it is all so great. Tends toward Zutara but strong gen fics as well sometimes and a lot of fun. Check it all out!

Everything by @muffinlance. Loves to toy with her readers’ emotions in the best of ways. Tons of fantastic gen Zuko-centric AUs, I have adored every single fic I’ve ever read by her, can’t praise them enough. Very productive as well, her tumblr is a hub for the ATLA renaissance and her fics inspire lots of others. Has also organized a fanmade ATLA coloring book for charity so get that once it’s out. In the meantime read everything she’s written.

Everything by Haicrescendo. My favorite is What We’re Given (the series where Zuko finds more air bisons and raises them), but there’s a lot of good Zukka fic too. I tend to steer away from explicit works in this fandom unless it’s a smaller part of a much longer plot-centric fic, so there are a number I haven’t read, but I really like the Pokemon!AU Zukka.

Everything by @gaycinema. I really love the EK fight club series (Zuko fights in Rumbles/etc.) but all of it is a good read. Some Jetko, mostly a lot of introspective or emotional oneshots. Which isn’t really a great depiction of how good they tend to be, you’ll just have to read them and find out. You won’t regret it, trust me.

Everything by @captainkirkk. So far eight stellar fics, starting with kind Fire Lord Zuko and ranging to Floating Tea Shop!Zuko who doesn’t want to hunt the Avatar. I love her style and have laughed out loud at multiple of these.

Gen Zuko fic

Bringing Out the Blue by maguena1. [unfinished, long] Definitely worth the read. The first ATLA fic I ever got really sucked into. The Blue Spirit never gets knocked out so Aang doesn’t know his true identity; he joins the Gaang on a recurring basis, while Zuko attempts to tell himself this is only for information on how to catch them, they definitely aren’t his friends.

It’s Impossible by Sandra Phillips. [abandoned, long] One of the earliest Avatar!Zuko fics (sort of) and a really interesting take on some spirit stuff.

Embers by Vathara. [complete, long] A landmark fic in the fandom, and for good reason. I didn’t love everything about this fic, but it is very well-written and an absorbing read certainly worth the praise.

the art of description by incandescens. [oneshot, short] Five descriptions of Zuko and Toph’s field trip from various perspectives. Short, sweet, and funny.

Breaking Point by Kryal. [oneshot, short] Zuko isn’t banished but instead sent to serve in the Home Guard. I love Zuko loving his people, and alternate canon explorations, and this is exactly that.

The Alternative by Lunatique. [oneshot, short] The reason Zuko is so determined is because he fears what will happen if he isn’t the next Fire Lord. An idea I support in canon, to a degree, written well.

Hands and Knees by gigerisgod. [oneshot, short] Zuko reflects on the choices he’s made, and experiences he’s had, when joining the Gaang. A nice introspective fic.

Relative Misery by peroxidepest17. [oneshot, short] Toph complains about her family and Zuko takes her on a field trip. Not a fic I take too seriously, but funny in a sad way.

Second Nature by lazyartisan. [possibly abandoned, long] An AU stemming from Zuko’s capture at the North Pole. Well-written and characterized, an old favorite that I actually find needing to reread to give you more detail, but I can promise it’s good.

Year One by peroxidepest17. [oneshot, short] Lessons Zuko learns in his first year being Fire Lord. I really like explorations of Zuko’s journey as Fire Lord and this is a lovely little window into that.

Soft by PenPistola. [oneshot, short] Zuko and Toph bonding after the Ember Island Players. Short and sweet.

The New Phoenix King by JoeMerl. [oneshot, short] Fire Lord Zuko is overthrown, and no one but him is bothered at all. In fact they help. Hilarious crack.

First Name Basis by JoeMerl. [oneshot, short] There’s some popular posts going around Tumblr lately about Zuko not knowing the Gaang’s names, but this fic did it first back in 2008. As amusing as you’d expect.

Male Bonding by glamaphonic. [oneshot, short] The original ‘Zuko and Sokka bond and are also dumb idiot boys’ fic. Katara is permanently rolling her eyes.

it’s not the waking, it’s the rising by isamagicdragon, thegracious [ongoing, series, medium] Azulon tells Ozai to kill Azula instead of Zuko, which leads to heartwrenching fire sibs adventure. I haven’t caught up on the last chapter yet but god is it fantastic and also just a really interesting and new perspective on what could have happened.

Doe-Eyed by Anonymous. [complete, medium] Zuko is a baby, Azula is a loving big sister. More fire sibs and a great exploration on Azula’s POV of turning against Ozai.

kintsugi by discordiansamba. [ongoing, series, long] Zuko doesn’t have Iroh after being banished, and winds up hired as a guard to protect the frail Beifong daughter. Fantastic preseries Zuko+Toph found family fic.

Legacies by WildInkling. [ongoing, medium] Far in the future, a historian studies the journal of Fire Lord Zuko. Also, he was secretly a famous author but no one knows. A funny and poignant outsider POV.

#UndercoverZuko series by naggeluide. [complete, series, short] A completely cracky concept written straight enough to be actually quite touching in parts, but also just really funny. Zuko goes Undercover Boss on his ship pre-series.

Avatar Ficlets by JaggedCliffs. [series, oneshots, short] An ongoing series of disconnected oneshots, mostly post-canon and mostly Zuko-centric. Some a pretty fun, one is a great view on Zuko and lightningbending, all worth the read (and follow for when more come out).

The Blind Leading the Blue by BrusselsSprout. [ongoing, medium] An epic Zuko and Toph field trip set in S2. I love them and this.

half in the shadows, half burned in flames by r_astra. [oneshot, short] Iroh dies, Zuko gets caught on the Day of Black Sun, everything ends up all right but damn does it hurt getting there.

A Tale of Earth and Fire by chiiyo86. [complete, medium] Zuko and Toph are married for Politics in a FN Wins AU, and follows them slowly bonding as friends to beginning a revolution. They’re married but it’s not romantic, just some good friendship.

Eight Principles of Yong by psocoptera. [oneshot, short] An exploration of immediate post-show FN politics (sort of), calligraphy, and Zuko. Also has some lovely non-fighting firebending; I always love when people explore other uses of bending.

Healing Properties of Cinder Sage by Dawen. [oneshot, short] Zuko gets very sick in the Western Air Temple. Some good interaction when he’s new to the Gaang, and Toph+Zuko friendship.

We Ourselves Must Walk The Path by WinterSky101. [complete, medium] The Gaang agrees to make Zuko their prisoner in the WAT. Speaking of new-to-the-Gaang, tension, this fic has plenty of it, and also features some good Toph and Zuko.

Frozen by Aris Merquoni. [oneshot, medium] Zuko is captured in the NWT. Some politics, lots of angst, and eventually, healing. Also actually makes me somewhat like Hahn? Incredibly enough.

Reluctant Hero by PAW_07. [ongoing, long] Avatar!Zuko fic. I got to beta it way back when for a little while before I got too busy, and have always been a huge fan of this fic. Great concept, one of the best executions of it I’ve seen, and also one of the first. Definitely read this.

Morality Chain by Pureauthor. [abandoned, long] Azula and Zuko were always on each other’s side; how this changes canon. I love this concept and would happily read a lot more fics with it (please guys, I need more fire sibs).

A viper-lizard’s tales series by Yumi_Take. [ongoing, long] The world needs more of Zuko adopting pets and small children, and those are just facts. This only has one of the two, but it’s a EK baby! Jet plays a big role in this fic as well, a weird kind of uncle-ish to the baby/friend/murderer Zuko needs to watch closely and hold back kind of thing.

(life happens) wherever you are by howlikeagod. [ongoing, long] Katara doesn’t find Zuko and Iroh in the teashop, and canon takes a sharp left turn. Excellent Gaang fic.

The Best Path series by EudociaCovert. [series, ongoing, long] Zuko meets Jet in ‘Zuko Alone’ and winds up getting claimed as theirs by the remaining Freedom Fighters. Really really well-written, I got quite emotional over some scenes.

Shippy Zuko fic

Balm by Thyme In Her Eyes. [Maiko, oneshot, short] A sweet little fic about Mai’s thoughts on Zuko’s lightning scar.

The Black Games by Mrs. Pettyfer. [Zutara, complete, long] Hunger Games-esque AU. It’s the first in a series, and I lost interest after this one but I remember enjoying the fic and it was more personal preference rather than a drop in quality that had me leaving.

Lie To Me by Inkcharm. [Toko, oneshot, short] I’m not actually a fan of this pairing romatically (at least until years down the line), but this little fic of Toph and Zuko bonding through lying to one another is sweet. I choose to ignore the more shippy parts and enjoyed it.

Zutara? What the heck is that? by Ryxl. [Zutara, oneshot, short] Complete crack, have a good sense of humor and I think you will enjoy. Just the mental image of the Gaang finding a Zutara propaganda flyer had me chuckling.

The Three Chores series (1, 2, 3) by Fandomme. [Zutara, threeshot, short] Zuko and Katara slowly bond as he helps with chores. I will admit it’s been years and I barely remember this, but what I do recall is lovely and I always appreciate people lightening Katara’s load.

read the inscription by suzukiblu. [Zuko/Song, complete, series, medium] When Zuko is banished, he is left alone in the Earth Kingdom to fend for himself. Very touching, and I love Song in this.

Hooked by TGP. [Jetko, complete, long] A classic ‘Jet didn’t see Iroh warming his tea’ fic. They’re almost all this premise but so many well-written and very long ones.

Something To Hold Onto by Wildgoosery. [Jetko, complete, long] The EK fell and Li stayed to fight with the Freedom Fighters to protect the city during its foreign rule. Jet didn’t see the tea fic that goes very AU from canon.

Foxfire by Rahar_Moonfire. [Jetko, ongoing, long] Zuko loses his memories Jetko fic, but with heavy spirit influence and lovable EK OCs, both of which I adore and should be in far more fics.

Once Upon A Teashop by anaer. [Zukka, Jetko, ongoing, long] Cracky Ba Sing Se AU that gets gradually more and more serious. Jet hits on Zuko a lot and Sokka gets a job in the teashop to keep an eye on both of them. Endgame Zukka but heavy Jetko, and both pairings are handled pretty well, not a love triangle that makes me too mad, although as always bear in mind Jet’s messed up.

Names by TGP. [Jetko, complete, long] I feel like I’m forgetting some more excellent Amnesia!Zuko fics, but this is one I do know of. To be honest I don’t remember it super well because it may be mixed up with other Jetko/amnesia fics in my mind, but I think it was really good. I’ll have to reread myself.

Epistles by Lady_of_the_Flowers. [Zukka, ongoing, long] I love epistolary fic and I love Zuko and Sokka bonding earlier in canon. I will be honest I haven’t read this in a long time and been updating all the while, but the premise alone (Zuko and Sokka become messenger-hawk-pals in S1 and then fall in love) is fantastic.

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought. [Zukka, ongoing, long] Zuko rebels earlier and actually is sent to the mines, until he is ‘rescued’ by the Water Tribe. Dark but getting lighter over time, and more reluctant-to-rule Zuko which always wrenches my heartstrings. I prefer super loyal and dutiful to his people Zuko but this trope always makes me feel things.

Crossovers

Fallen Drops of Fire by Chasmfiend. [Fullmetal Alchemist, ongoing] Young Azula and Zuko somehow appear in Amestris, and encounter Roy Mustang. I adore the fire sibs, and their relationship in this strange situation is the star of this fic for me, but it’s also fun seeing the FMA perspective of these two.

The Dragon-King’s Temple by Kryal. [Stargate SG-1, long, complete] The best crossover fic out there. Zuko and Toph get stranded on the other side of a Stargate. I don’t know anything about SG-1 but it didn’t matter, the fic was fantastic, they were badasses, it explored language and culture from an outside perspective, and it was just a ton of fun. Must-read.

Other character fic

Loyalty by Julia451. [oneshot, short] The ship captain didn’t misspeak when he called Iroh and Zuko “prisoners” in the start of S2. A lovely look at a nameless character, giving depth to a small moment and humanity to a FN soldier which I always love.

The Only One by HarlowR. [oneshot, short] An excellent exploration of Azula’s mindset regarding Zuko, her desperate need to be loved and jealousy of him matching his own. I think Azula was one of the greatest tragedies of the show, and this fic makes me feel it.

Blood by theAsh0. [oneshot, short] Katara-centric thinkpiece on bloodbending and healing. Dark but really interesting.

Touch and Go by Cadence. [oneshot, short] After Iroh’s struck by lightning, Toph doesn’t let Zuko drive them all away. A momentary alliance and the seeds of friendship. More Toph-focused but still heavy on the whole Gaang.

Shortcomings by Menamebephil. [oneshot, short] Iroh thoughts during his imprisonment, on the theme of mistakes. I love this man and don’t understand why I am so drawn to fic about him that makes me sad.

Watch And Review, Please by Becca Stareyes. [oneshot, short] The Ember Island Players receive some constructive criticism... sort of. Funny and quick.

Azula Redemption Trilogy (1, 2, 3) by Mistress of Sarcasm. [threeshot, short] Second person and deeply introspective, three short little fics delving into Azula’s head and bringing her closer to redemption.

Echoing Refrains by catie_writes_things. [oneshot, short] I really like nuanced explorations of the whole FN royal family. It’s perfectly fine to write Ozai as pure evil bastard, but exploring what might have been or how he got there, or even as in this fic his talent for music being inherited by Zuko is really interesting too. Iroh-centric.

our curse by ohmygodwhy, and the last dragon by thesometimeswarrior. [twoshot, complete, short] Stay away if you don’t like to cry. In the first Zuko learns Ozai is executing Iroh, and isn’t able to stop it; the second is even worse because it’s Iroh’s POV. I put this in the other characters section because honestly I adore the second fic even more than the first, but they are both fantastically written and will hurt you a very great deal.

Finally, I’m not quite bold enough to put my own fic on a reclist, but just shameless enough to mention I’ve written a few Avatar fics I quite like if anyone feels the desire to check them out on my AO3. ;) But seriously give love to all the rest of these, they deserve it. (And as I said, there’s lots more excellent stuff, this fandom is so prolific and well-written!)

#atla #atla fic #fic rec #reclist #replies #anonymous #i'm haunted by the feeling i've forgotten a lot of stuff #but honestly i need to stop this is huge already #enjoy anon #Anonymous

1K notes · View notes

heyitssmiller · 4 years ago

Text

Frosted Windowpanes: Part One

The Christmas Fic is here! Featuring Logan the lumberjack, Leo who owns a diner, and Finn who was just trying to have a quiet, uneventful holiday (lol). This was supposed to be a oneshot, but y’all know I’m too long-winded for that, so it looks like we’ll be having at least one more part for this story!

@donttouchmycarrots Thank you so much for proofreading/encouraging/being such a wonderful, wonderful friend. I don’t think I’d still be writing without you and iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

@lumosinlove Again, thank you for such wonderful characters! And for creating such a wonderful, welcoming fandom! I never thought I’d post my writing where people could read it, but then I met y’all and here we are! You guys are amazing! Happy Holidays, everyone! <3

Part Two is now up!

It's that time of year When the world falls in love Every song you hear seems to say

- The Christmas Waltz

Piercing, bitter cold greeted Logan as he stepped outside for the first time that day. The kind of cold that made the entire body tense up and the breath hitch. It was a quiet early morning, with a stillness that only freshly-fallen snow could bring. Logan took a second to pull his toque further down over his head as he grabbed the chainsaw by the door before heading out to the truck, passing the sign with red, clean lettering that read Tremblay’s Christmas Trees.

“Took you long enough, sleeping beauty.” His sister, Noelle, teased from the driver’s seat of the beat-up truck that barely started most mornings.

“It’s too early for this.” He grumbled back, sliding into the passenger’s seat as the truck reluctantly spluttered to a start.

“The faster we get done out here, the faster we can go deal with customers.”

“That’s not exactly helping.”

Noelle laughed as she drove back into one of the fields, parking the truck at the far end. “Come on, it’s not that bad. They ask to buy a tree, you help them pick one out, take their money, and strap it to their car. Easy.”

They got out of the truck, grabbed the chainsaw from the back, and headed towards their first tagged tree. Logan grabbed the tree around its trunk to stabilize it while Noelle powered up the chainsaw, putting their conversation on hold. She crouched down to start cutting the base of the tree trunk, creating a notch before starting the back cut. Logan waited until the tree felt unstable before giving the tree a gentle push in the right direction and removing his hands. The tree hit the ground with a thud.

Noelle took that as her cue to continue their conversation. “Don’t pretend to be all grumpy and stoic. I know you like some of our regulars.”

“Some being the key word here.” He replied, grabbing the tree trunk again and beginning to drag it to the truck. Noelle just gave him a look that clearly said I see right through you but didn’t comment as she looked for the next tagged tree.

Logan heaved the Christmas tree into the bed of the truck and shoved it into one corner; he could probably fit one more tree alongside it before he started stacking them. He stood up straight, turning his head to watch the sun rise and peek over the tops of the trees, bringing rays of light and warmth with it.

Leo basked in the warmth coming from the oven as he took out a fresh batch of croissants, a welcome reprieve from the weather outside. He quickly put the next tray of pastries into the oven and transferred the baked croissants onto a plate, where he let them cool just a little before drizzling them with honey. He hummed along to the Christmas music playing on the radio as he worked on getting the diner ready to open in a few hours. He started the gumbo, red beans and rice, and jambalaya, letting them simmer on the stove before whipping up his fried chicken batter and breading so that it was ready whenever he needed it. Next was the cornbread, which was made from scratch and poured into muffin tins to create the perfect individual servings. Coffee was brewed, quiches were placed in the display window, waffle batter was whipped up and sitting in a bowl on the counter.

Leo was arranging croissants into a basket when the back door opened, letting all the cold air in and a small flurry of snow with it.

“Good morning!” Nate called as he came around the corner, shedding his coat and hat. Leo honestly wasn’t sure what he’d do without Nate. Running his own diner was hard – it was even harder when he’d moved to a different country, not knowing anyone there, and kept afloat with barely anything but his optimism and his confidence in his cooking. Nate was the first person he’d hired when business actually picked up, and he’d been there ever since. He had a real knack for cooking and managed to make every person that walked through their doors feel welcomed.

“Headed out to the farm?” Nate asked when he saw the basket of croissants and the large thermos Leo was filling with coffee.

“Yeah.” Leo said, grabbing coffee creamer and sugar and shoving them into his coat pocket after he slipped it on. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Nah, I can hold down the fort while you’re gone.”

Leo smiled as he grabbed his hat. “Thanks. There’s croissants in the oven, but they’ll be done as soon as that timer goes off! I’ll be right back, ok?”

Nate gave him a look. “No you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” Leo agreed with a laugh. “But I’ll be back before morning rush.” He said as he braced himself and opened the door to be greeted by the frigid Canadian winter.

Even after a year and a half, he had a feeling he’d never get used to this weather.

He made a beeline for his car, quickly getting behind the wheel and cranking the heat as high as it would go. He put the car in drive and slowly pulled out onto the road, keeping a firm grip on the wheel and his eyes on the road. He knew he was probably causing a traffic build-up behind him, which made Leo feel a little guilty. He’d driven through hurricanes countless times, but snow? Black ice? He was absolutely terrified of that. So he took his time, eventually turning off the main road and driving until he reached a sign with red lettering and a Christmas tree lot. There were handmade wreaths and garlands, and white Christmas lights strung up over the rows of trees for sale.

Leo put the car in park and grabbed his stuff, breath hitching as he faced the cold winds again. Marius, the head of the Tremblay family, was at the checkout counter, writing something down on a pad of paper. Once he looked up and saw Leo, he smiled broadly. “Hey, Nut!”

“Good morning.” Leo replied, raising the basket and thermos in his hands. “I come bearing gifts. Coffee and croissants.”

“You know you don’t have to do that.” Marius said as he gave Leo a stern look. “I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

Leo shrugged, opening the basket and offering them to the man. “I like doing this. Y’all work hard and have ridiculously long hours. And you work in this weather. I feel like you could use a little warmth.”

“You and your southern manners.” He grabbed a croissant anyways, taking a big bite. “Your favorite’s still out there bringing some trees in.” He said, motioning to one of the groves to the left. Leo could faintly hear the sound of a chainsaw in the distance.

“I don’t have favorites,” Leo protested as he set the thermos and croissants down on the table, even though it was clearly a bald-faced lie. He thought of evergreen eyes and a gorgeous laugh and a smile that left him breathless. He blamed the redness of his cheeks and ears on the cold. “I like all of you equally.”

“Right.” Marius said, dragging out the vowel. He was smiling, though. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you, you know.”

Leo had to force his smile to remain steadfast. Friend. That was all this was ever going to be, no matter how much his heart yearned for something more. He needed to learn to be content with that – it wasn’t fair to Logan otherwise, or to himself for that matter. He could be a good friend and leave it at that. It was still better than not knowing him at all.

“I think I’m the lucky one.” He said, only then remembering the sugar and coffee creamers in his coat pocket. He fished them out and set them on the counter next to the thermos. “I do have to get going, though. I’ve got the breakfast rush to deal with.”

Marius waved him off playfully, grabbing another croissant. “Go on, then. I’ll try to save some for the rest of them.”

Leo laughed at his antics, breath clouding in the air. “I’m holding you to that.”

Marius watched him get in his car and drive off very slowly with a chuckle. Damn southerners. He looked down at the coffee creamers and sugar, knowing Logan was the only one in the family that used them, and started speculating.

He heard the rumbling of the truck as it came in, the back loaded to the brim with trees. Noelle and Logan’s bickering could be heard before the truck’s engine got turned off, which was saying something. Marius grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. He was going to need it.

“I mean, come on. Back to the Future is clearly the superior 80s movie. It’s definitely better than Top Gun.”

Logan closed his door, staring at his sister with a combination of horror and disbelief. “How dare you. Those aren’t even in the same genre!”

Noelle looked over at Marius right as she was about to start her counterargument and spotted the pastries and coffee. She grinned and abandoned Logan at the back of the truck in order to beat him to the food. One croissant was immediately shoved into her mouth as she grabbed another and then reached for a coffee cup one-handed. Marius snorted and grabbed it from her, filling it with steaming coffee.

She groaned. “Lolo, your friend needs to stop by more often. Fuck, this is good. If I wasn’t in a committed relationship already, I’d ask him to marry me.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Logan said gruffly, but his words were betrayed by a smile. He looked down at the pastries, eyes soft and smile dopy.

Marius knew that look. More importantly, he knew his son. And everything fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

“Maybe Logan should ask, instead.” He teased, although a part of him was completely genuine.

Logan choked on his first bite of croissant.

“Finn!” June shouted as soon as she flung the door open, throwing herself into his arms. Finn laughed and hugged her back. Two seconds into his visit and he knew this was going to be the best way to spend the week before Christmas. He hadn’t seen June since they graduated college and, even though they kept in touch, it wasn’t the same.

“Four years is way too long.” He said as she let go. “Let’s not go that long without seeing each other again, ok?”

“Deal.” She replied, grabbing his bag for him and leading the way inside. The apartment was warm and cozy and lived in – there were books on the coffee table and a large pile of mail on the counter and a few stray dishes in the sink.

Finn loved it.

Heather, June’s fiancée, smiled in greeting and stuck her hand out to shake. “You must be Finn.”

He had originally thought it might be a little bit awkward, meeting his ex-girlfriend’s fiancée, but Heather seemed kind and welcoming and unperturbed about the whole thing. He shook her hand and returned the smile. “Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh god.” She laughed, shooting June a look. June just winked and leaned over to check whatever food was in the oven.

“All good things.” Finn promised, letting Heather lead him to the guest room. It was as happy and welcoming as the rest of the apartment. As soon as they were out of earshot, he continued, “I’m really happy for you guys. She’s happier than I've ever seen her.”

“So am I.” Heather said wistfully as Finn set his bag down. “Bathroom’s through that door if you need it.”

“Thanks.”

When he rejoined the group in the living room, he noticed something: a distinct lack of Christmas decorations. June used to love decorating her college dorm room for the holidays – she went all out with little things she bought at the Dollar Tree and a miniature Christmas tree from Walmart. They used to get the tree together every year. It was strange that she hadn’t continued the tradition.

“No tree?” He asked June, surprised. She shrugged and scooted over on the couch to make room for all three of them.

“Haven’t had the time. I’ve been so busy at work and Heather’s been traveling for conferences. It’s not the same when you have to decorate by yourself.”

Finn hummed understandingly. He knew the feeling. “Why don’t we go get one now? Do you think some places are still open this late?”

Heather and June looked at each other, seeming to have a telepathic conversation. Finn watched on in amusement as they communicated with raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes and shrugs until they apparently made up their minds.

“Tremblay’s is probably still open. They’ve got the best trees, anyways.” June explained, turning to look at Finn. “But I’ve got to stay here and make sure our dinner doesn’t burn.”

“And I’ve got to stay here and supervise June while she uses the oven.” Heather added. Finn laughed, remembering too many times June had burned herself while using the rickety old oven from the 1970s that still lived on in their dorm building.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Finn teased and ruffled June’s hair. She just rolled her eyes and didn’t even bother trying to smooth it out again. Ruffling hair was one of Finn’s main ways of showing affection – she knew it would just get messed up again. Finn fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his navigation app. “I can go get the tree, if you want. You said the place was called Tremblay’s?”

“Finn, you really don’t have to-”

“No, I want to!” He cut in, standing up from the couch to grab his coat. “I didn’t bring presents for you guys because I’m so bad at gift-giving, so this can be my Christmas present.”

Heather hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” She asked, glancing at June again. “We can always go out and get a tree tomorrow.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be back soon, and with a tree!” Finn said as he reached the door, turned to give a cheery salute, and headed out to his car.

After a frankly terrifying drive through narrow back roads and potential ice hazards, Finn followed his app to a little tree farm off of the main road. There weren’t many cars there, thankfully, and it still looked open. The rows of white lights hanging above the trees were all lit and glowing, snow was falling at a slow, sleepy pace. It looked perfect, like something out of a dream.

And that was before Finn saw him.

The man working the front counter.

Finn raked his gaze over the man and swooned. Wavy brown hair, bright eyes, shoulders and arms so broad and built that it seemed like they were about to rip the plaid shirt he was wearing. With a nametag that stated Logan, he seemed like a rugged, Canadian, lumberjack dreamboat. Finn swallowed, making his way to the counter and the absolute vision behind it while he focused on not tripping over his own two feet.

“Hi,” Finn managed, trying not to get lost in evergreen eyes. “I’d like to buy a tree, please.”

“What type of tree would you like?”

Oh, the accent.

Finn was screwed.

“Uh…” Finn trailed off, looking at Logan and struggling to find words. “A Christmas tree?”

“Spruce, pine, or fir?” When Finn’s expression turned more confused, Logan smiled in exasperated, awed delight. Who drove all this way for a tree and had no clue what they were looking for? Most people at least had some idea. But not this one, apparently. Those big, Bambi eyes were lost and absolutely adorable.

“Do you have a size you’re looking for?” Logan asked, receiving a more perplexed look.

This was too funny. “Do you know anything about what kind of tree you want?”

“A pretty one? But not too expensive. Or too tall. Or heavy – I’ve got to get it up a huge flight of stairs.”

Logan couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer. He leaned forwards against the counter and laughed, eyes squeezing shut and shoulders shaking. Finn watched with a smile of his own, taking in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the contagious nature of his laugh. He felt like this – this right here – was the only thing he wanted to do for the next several hours, especially if he was the reason for the laughter. He thought of that song he could never remember the name of but heard a lot on Tiktok that said, “oh no, I think I’m catching feelings” and never related to a song more in his entire life.

“Ok,” Logan said when he’d finally caught his breath. “Ok, I’m going to pick one out for you, how’s that sound…?”

“Finn.” The redhead supplied with a laugh of his own. “And please. I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Clearly.” Logan stepped around the counter and led him towards a group of trees. “These are Douglas Firs. They last a long time, smell great, and they don’t take a lot of trimming or maintenance. They’re also pretty cheap since they’re so common.”

Finn looked from the trees to another group of trees a little ways off. “They all look the same.”

“Who’s the expert here?” Logan teased, shooting him a look over his shoulder as he walked from one tree to the next. Finn trailed after him eagerly, watching calloused, muscular hands trail along the needles of the trees.

“We can go look at the Fraser Firs, if you want, but I really think one of these is your best bet.” Logan continued, stopping in front of a mid-sized tree. “How about this one?”

Finn looked at it, then back at Logan. “What do you think? Since I clearly don’t know anything about trees.” That drew another smile from Logan, which made Finn vow to himself to make the brunet smile like that again.

Logan dragged the tree out from the rest of the group and looked it over. “I think it’s a good one. Good shape, healthy. I sure know how to pick ‘em, eh?”

Eh. How adorably Canadian.

“Sounds good. It’s not even for me, so my input doesn’t really matter a whole lot.”

Logan sent him a confused look. “So you went out at nine o’clock at night to get a Christmas tree, and it’s not for you?”

“I don’t even live in this country.”

“What?”

“I’m visiting friends that live here, and they’ve been traveling or too busy to decorate like they normally do, so I decided I’d get the ball rolling and find them a Christmas tree.” Finn shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Not only was he stunning, he was thoughtful to boot.

Logan clearly had a type.

“That’s nice of you.” He removed the tree from its stand and started lugging it to the counter, watching the redhead trail behind him yet again out of the corner of his eye. When he reached his destination, he set the tree down and found Finn staring at him with a look of awe on his face. He bit back a smile. “How long are you staying?”

Finn was silent for a second, as if in a trance, then snapped out of it with a little shake of his head. “Huh?”

That smile he was holding back broke through. “How long are you staying in town?”

“Oh. Just for the week, then I’m off to spend Christmas with my family back home in New York.”

“A New Yorker, huh?” Logan asked as he bagged the tree up, attempting to do the accent and making Finn laugh. “This must be quite the change of pace for you.”

“You have no idea.”

Finn’s stomach growled, making his eyes widen and his cheeks burn in embarrassment. It must’ve been loud enough for Logan to hear because he turned back around to face Finn and quirked an eyebrow. “Hungry?” He asked, then told Finn the price of the tree. Finn handed his card over.

“Yeah. Haven’t had dinner yet.”

“I, uh, I know a place.” Logan said, playing with Finn’s credit card before meeting his eyes and quickly adding, “If you’re interested. I haven’t had dinner either.”

Finn grinned, not even trying to hide his excitement. The only thing he’d wanted when he left June and Heather’s apartment was a tree. Now he had a potential date with this gorgeous, witty guy? Yes please. “Yeah?”

Logan shared his smile, leaning forward against the counter and looking up at him through dark, dark eyelashes. Finn’s heart fluttered. “Yeah. Sounds fun to me.”

“Great.” Finn said, unsure of what else to say and suddenly feeling a little awkward. Was he supposed to wait for him to finish his shift? Were they driving together? Where was this restaurant?

He needed to text June.

Shit. She had been making dinner when he left. But he’d already agreed to dinner with Logan. But it would be so rude to not spend time with his hosts. But he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t go on this date.

He pulled out his phone as Logan ran his card through the system to text June.

To June: Sooooo there might be a change of plans. Some hot guy is my acting tour guide for the night and I won’t be making it home for dinner. But I promise I have a tree and I will be back eventually.

It only took June a few seconds to respond.

From June: Damn. You go, Finn.

He laughed under his breath, then pocketed his phone. When he looked up, Logan was looking at him and holding his card out. Finn grabbed it and shoved it into his wallet, which he pocketed. “Ready to go?” Logan asked, grabbing the trunk of the tree and preparing to drag it again. “I can drive, if you want. We’ll strap the tree to the top of your car and then head out.”

“Works for me. Do you need help with that?” Finn motioned to the tree. Not that he minded the view – quite the contrary – but he felt bad not doing anything.

“Want to grab the netting towards the top? We can carry it instead of dragging it.”

Finn grabbed the netting and followed Logan’s lead as they both lifted the tree and started carrying it out to Finn’s car, Finn giving directions as they went. Getting the tree to the top of the rental car was a struggle, but they managed and strapped it down.

They hurried to Logan’s car and shut out the cold as quickly as they could. Logan started the rickety old pickup truck that smelled strongly of Christmas trees and took off down the road at a much faster pace than Finn would ever dare to drive these roads.

“I have a feeling you’re going to love this place.” Logan said as he turned right onto the main road, accelerating a bit more. “Pretty much everyone does. It’s not very Canadian, but you can’t beat the food.”

“What defines a restaurant as Canadian?” Finn mused, looking over at the driver. “Maple syrup? Poutine?”

“Watch it.” There was no heat in Logan’s voice, so Finn didn’t take it to heart. They slowed down and pulled into a parking lot of a diner simply called Leo’s. The outside looked a little rundown, which made Finn a little apprehensive, but the windows were all fogged up from the temperature difference between inside and outside, which was always promising.

Logan turned the car off and shot Finn an excited grin. “Ready?”

Finn couldn’t tell if he was excited for dinner with him or just the food. Hopefully it was both.

The inside of the diner was… eclectic. The walls were a faint yellow, but there were splashes of deep purple, green, and gold in the decorations on the walls. Mardis Gras, Finn realized as he spotted some masks hanging on the wall. The food smelled amazing – warm and spicy and savory. Behind the baked goods on display counter stood a young kid with a cleaning spray and a rag, wiping down the counters. He looked up at the bell that signaled the door opening and instantly recognized Logan. He sent them a smile before turning his head and shouting towards the direction of the kitchen, “Leo!”

There was a loud clang, followed by a muffled curse. “Be there in a jiffy!”

Finn looked to Logan in confusion. “Was that a southern accent? Like American south?”

“Leo.” Was all Logan said, a happy smile on his face.

“You guys can go ahead and sit down,” The kid at the counter said. “I’ll bring some menus.”

“Thanks, Nate.” Logan led the way towards a booth in the front corner of the dining area and sat down facing the door. Finn sat opposite him, accepting a menu with thanks. The menu consisted of southern U.S. staples – biscuits and gravy, grits, red beans and rice, fried chicken, etouffee, jambalaya, po’boys, fried catfish, cornbread, the list went on.

“So is this guy from Louisiana?”

Logan wasn’t even looking at the menu, he was watching every nuance of Finn’s expressions as he took everything in. “New Orleans, born and raised.”

“How the hell did he end up here?”

“He had an uncle who owned this place and left it to Leo when he died. Originally he was just going to fix it up and sell it before going back home, but two months led to a year and he’s still here. Doesn’t seem to be planning on going anywhere else for a while, either.” Logan suddenly perked up, looking at something over Finn’s shoulder. “Here he comes.”

Finn swiveled in his seat and stopped dead in his tracks.

Tall.

They were both greeted by a dimpled smile as Leo approached their table, flour or powdered sugar – Finn wasn’t sure which one – all over his apron and a dusting of it in his fluffy blond hair.

“Hey, Logan. See you’ve brought company!” His accent dragged sweet and slow like molasses, so very out of place this far north. But it was refreshing, like a breath of fresh air or the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a week of rain. As he got closer, Finn realized what he’d thought to be flour in his hair was actually a gray streak. And wow, were his eyes blue.

How was everyone here so attractive?

“Finn, meet Leo. Leo, this is Finn.” Logan said, smile never leaving his face as he looked between the two. “He’s new here.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “And you brought him here?”

“You do have the best pie in town.”

That got another sunny smile from Leo. “Damn right I do. But dinner first. Can’t go on spoilin’ your dinner with pie.” Those blue eyes turned to Finn, causing his breath to hitch just a little. “What’ll you have, sugar?”

Finn simply wasn’t going to survive this night. Was this a dream? That would explain all the attractive guys – the probabilities of something like this happening in real life were slim to none. He pinched his arm harshly. Not a dream.

What the fuck?

Finn realized he still hadn’t answered and was just staring at the blond. He cleared his throat and quickly averted his gaze to the menu, not really reading anything but grateful for something else to look at besides the two guys in front of him. “Um… what would you recommend?” He finally asked, grateful that he could get his vocal cords to actually work.

Leo hummed, thinking about it. “Personally I really like the muffuletta, if you’re looking for a sandwich. Definitely the gumbo if you’re in the mood for soup. I do make a mean fried catfish, too.”

Finn wasn’t sure what exactly a muffuletta was, but he ordered it. Logan got his usual, whatever that meant. Leo wrote down their orders and gave them one last smile before retreating to the kitchen. They both watched him go, then Finn whipped back around to face Logan.

“Is he real?”

Logan just laughed, leaning back in his seat. Finn panicked for half a second, terrified that what he’d said was the worst possible thought to voice on what was potentially a first date. But Logan didn’t seem to mind. He just looked back at the kitchen with a soft smile Finn hadn’t seen before.

“You know, I ask myself that a lot.” He said quietly, as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. And Finn finally understood.

He was in love with Leo.

The sound of a record scratching filled Finn’s head.

Wait.

That didn’t make any sense… because Finn was ninety-five percent sure that Logan had been flirting with him all night.

Hadn’t he?

They made small talk while they waited for their food, and Logan was pleasantly surprised at how… easy it was. He normally didn’t like small talk and didn’t share personal stories with strangers, but here Finn was, pulling stories out of him that he normally wouldn’t share on a first date.

Was this a date? Logan couldn’t decide if he wanted it to be one or not. One hand, this was definitely the most fun he’d had in weeks. On the other hand, Leo. He sent a glance towards the kitchen window before focusing back on Finn’s story about one of the parties he and June went to back in college. There was lots of alcohol, mattresses, and a roof involved. Finn’s storytelling included a myriad of different expressions, all of which Logan found endearing. The wrinkle of his nose when he talked about drunk frat boy antics, the way he got all soft whenever he talked about June, the laughter lines around his eyes when he told a funny anecdote.

How was it possible to be so cute and yet so hot at the same time?

And how had he met two guys who fit into both of those categories?

Nate brought their food out while Logan was in the middle of a story about the time he’d found a squirrel in one of their trees and got attacked when he tried to relocate the thing when Nate came back with the food. Finn had the muffuletta, which was apparently meat and cheese and some sort of olive spread or something – Finn had no idea, but it looked and smelled amazing. Logan had a bowl of red beans and rice in front of him, but he was waiting to see Finn’s reaction to the food before starting his own.

Finn took a bite of the sandwich, then his eyes widened almost comically. “Oh my god.”

“I know.” Logan said, getting a spoonful of red beans and rice.

“Where has this been all my life?”

“Just wait until you try the pie.”

Finn didn’t speak again, he just ate. The food clearly took precedence over any possible conversations. Logan couldn’t help but agree. Finn ate like a man who hadn’t seen food in a week, finishing the sandwich in record time. He leaned back in his seat when he was done, letting out a happy, content sigh. “Holy shit. Is everything on the menu that good?”

“Pretty much.”

“And he hasn’t been on the Food Network yet?”

Logan grinned. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“We should tell them to get up here and try this food.”

“Y’all, I don’t have time for the Food Network.” Finn jumped a little as Leo reappeared with two slices of pie. “I appreciate it, though. You liked it, huh?”

Finn looked up at him. “I kind of want to come back every day I’m here.” And he meant it. He wouldn’t be coming back just for the food, though.

“Well, I definitely won’t stop you.” Leo said with a dimpled smile. Finn barely held in a dreamy sigh.

Dimples.

“Why don’t you join us?” Finn asked, scooting over to make room for the blond. But Leo just shook his head with a rueful smile.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got twelve pies that need to be made.”

“Twelve?” Finn asked in mild horror. “When do you sleep?”

“The chocolate crème pies are in high demand, especially around the holidays. But it’s fine, I don’t mind it. I’m just glad I've got business.” Leo seemed to be ignoring the sleep question, which was never a good sign.

“You look tired.” Logan noted, face muddled with concern.

Leo laughed softly, but didn’t seem to take offense. “Thanks a lot, darlin’.”

Logan broke eye contact and pushed the residual whipped cream around on his plate. Finn hadn’t even realized he’d started eating, but he quickly followed suit and fuck, was that good.

“I just meant you need to take care of yourself, that’s all.” Logan mumbled into his plate without looking up, almost as if he was afraid to see the cook’s response.

“Says the guy who works even longer hours than I do.” Leo teased, causing Logan to roll his eyes.

“That’s because it’s almost Christmas and I work at a Christmas tree farm. It’s only temporary. We’ll be back to normal by the end of the week.”

“Well, good. You deserve to sleep in for once.” Leo said, taking a step back towards the kitchen. “But I really do have to go. Those pies won’t make themselves.”

“Do you want help?” Finn asked hopefully, He honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night than baking with these two. Being given instructions in a thick southern drawl, helping Logan make pie filling, trading stories (and maybe kisses) while they waited for the pies to be done.

But Leo quickly dashed his dreams. “That’s sweet, honey, but I think I’ll be faster on my own. I’ve got a system that makes it pretty efficient. And I don’t give out my recipes to just anyone, you know.”

Oh, but I’d love to be someone to you.

Logan also looked disappointed. “We should get going, then. Don’t want to keep distracting you.”

“At least you’re a welcome distraction.” Leo said with a wink before he turned and disappeared into the kitchen. He let the door close behind him before backing up to lean against it, tilting his head back to rest against the wood and closing his eyes. The happy façade dropped in an instant.

Because Logan was out there, on a date with a guy. A handsome, kind, funny guy who would have absolutely no trouble sweeping Logan off his feet.

And that guy wasn’t Leo.

Finn flopped dramatically onto the couch back at June’s apartment, muffling a scream into a poor, unsuspecting pillow. June looked up from her book with a laugh. “Well hello to you, too.”

“I’m in love.”

“Oh?” Heather asked from her spot cuddled up next to June.

Finn turned his head sideways to open one eye and look at the two of them. “With a lumberjack and a cook.”

“Ah,” June said knowingly as she dog-eared the page she was on and closed the book. “Beware the lumberjacks. They’re known to be irresistible. Alright then, which Tremblay was it?”

Finn cocked his head. “What?”

Heather smiled as June tilted her head back and let her run her fingers through dark brown curls. They were so cute it was almost sickening. “There’s four of them: three sisters and a brother. Which one did you fall for?”

Finn couldn’t have held back the smile that crossed his face even if he tried. “Logan.”

June groaned. “I get it. Holy shit, those eyes.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know he cooked, though.”

“No, the cook was another guy.” Finn sighed as he twisted to lay on his back and stare wistfully up at the ceiling. “Leo.”

“The southern one with the diner?”

“That’s the one.”

“Damn, O’Hara. You do know-”

“They’re head-over-heels in love with each other? Yeah, I got that.” Finn stretched his legs out to rest on June’s lap. “But I’m also pretty sure that was a date. And that Logan was flirting with me.” He sighed again, covering his eyes with his arm. “I’m doomed.”

“Always so dramatic.” June teased. “Just date both of them.”

Finn froze, his mind going completely blank. “What?”

“Date both of them.” She repeated, unfazed. “Polyamorous relationships are a thing, you know. Who says you can’t date both of them?”

Finn moved his arm away from his face to stare at her. “Huh.” He finally said, mind kicking back into gear. That sounded… perfect, actually. Only a few hitches. Did Leo even like him? They’d barely talked to each other. Finn could see Logan being ok with the whole dating two people thing, seeing that he was flirting with both of them, but what would Leo think? And the other hitch. “I’m only for a week, though.”

“Then you’d better act fast, lover boy.”

“I’ve got a question.” Heather piped up.

Finn looked at her and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to ask her question.

“Where’s the tree?”

He could probably see it from their front window if he bothered to stand up, still strapped to his rental car. “Shit.”

#lumosinlove #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #christmas au #frosted windowpanes

267 notes · View notes