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ieatstarsforaliving · 1 year ago

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The Fucking Fight Club (2)

Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood

Word Count: 3866

Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3

“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.”

Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn’t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal.

“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”

Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”

“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”

“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”

“That’s why we’re practicing!”

“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.”

Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact.

PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.”

Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?”

Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist.

Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.”

Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.”

“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”

“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?”

Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.

“I don’t really want to punch her.”

“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.”

“Well–”

“-She will, Josie.”

Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends.

“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”

“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered.

That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn.

The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree.

“Hey, isn’t that…”

You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’.

Your heart dropped.

“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?”

You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out.

You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature?

“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.

“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.”

You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men.

You needed Hazel Callahan.

You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;

“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”

Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded.

“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”

It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night.

“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel.

“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”

Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club?

This was going to be absolutely horrendous.

“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–”

“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’.

“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay?

“First? Listen to Hazel.”

Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture.

“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”

“3:30–-”

“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”

Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—

“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”

–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym.

Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)

“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.”

You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized.

The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”

“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”

“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.”

Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”

“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”

“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?”

“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.”

“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”

“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added.

“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry.

“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?”

“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?”

“Uh.”

PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’

“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”

There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.

“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie.

PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’

Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’

PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’

Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—

-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay.

“Hazel—”

—And she flung her fist to your face.

You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure.

“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed.

PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.”

“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled.

Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation.

“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.”

“No, No—”

“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—”

“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office– but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.”

Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.

When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red.

“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.”

It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability.

“Hazel, look at me.”

Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;

“Why didn’t you message me?”

Hazel paused.

“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?”

“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”

“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”

Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”

Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.”

Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.”

You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.”

You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury.

“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset.

You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.

“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?”

She chuckled, “You have no idea.”

You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others?

Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.

“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.

“No, you don’t.”

Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.

“No, my face is a complete mess–”

“-You look pretty.”

You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color.

“You always do.”

And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed.

“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”

Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you.

And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—

“-The club isn’t being shut down!”

The office door swung open with a bang.

Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.

“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?”

“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.

In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.

Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”

“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”

“Are you still up for this, Hazel?”

Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,

“Let’s fucking do this.”

Previous Chapter: The Origin

Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

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clarinet-sticks · 1 year ago

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I have to rant. Pls bare with me or ignore me idc. TW: Miscarriage & shitty bosses (I tried to tag what I thought might need to be tagged, so sorry if I missed something.)

My boss SUCKED. She was the first person I called and told I was pregnant & how I’d be on closer watch with the OB due to my miscarriage earlier this year. She said that was totally fine and to just keep her in the loop.

Only a few days into the school year I started spotting, which is obviously scary since I experienced that before my loss. I got into the OB immediately and started being seen weekly for blood tests and ultrasounds. I tried to ask off ahead of time if I knew I had an appointment, but a few times I had to leave in the middle of the day and come back, which she was fine with.

One day I went in and had only taken the morning off. I was stuck in the office waiting for hours so I texted letting my boss know I wouldn’t be back. I brought her my doctors note which simply started I was seen at 10:45 (which is usually all the office gives you when you ask for a work note).

I was also put on restrictions so my baby and I would be safe at work. I was not allowed to lift 25 pounds or more. She came up to me in the hallway demanding I have paperwork proving that, otherwise she and the district wouldn’t recognize my restrictions and would make me work like normal. I called the office and asked for something to be sent in writing for work, and they complied, sending it to my hospital app. I screenshotted it and emailed it to my boss. I then went to her office to confirm she received it and she said “yep, that should be all I need, thanks!” Then she read the note and says “do we even have any kids that heavy?” YES??? The average 3-4 year old is at the smallest 35 pounds.

About a week goes by, then I wake up and get around for work. I go pee right before leaving and suddenly there’s a LOT more spotting. I’m panicked, I call my boss to let her know I won’t be in and I’ll be calling my OB when they open. She doesn’t answer, so I text her. She responds with “I will not be able to find a sub with 16 minute notice. We will be short handed.” Ok? I’m in crisis mode right now and you’re expecting me to feel bad that I had to contact you last minute?? THEN she sends another long ass message saying she needs a note proving I was seen, it could NOT be an email on my phone, and it had better say I wasn’t allowed to return to work that day… because she let it slide last time my note only stated the time of my appointment, but I should’ve returned to work if I was able.

I was seeing red. I was shaking I was so mad. I called my husband and told him what happened and he immediately said to quit. It was bullshit. She knows my situation. She knows I’m panicked over every little issue because I lost one before. But instead of being empathetic and understanding, she throws it in my face that the classroom will be down a teacher and scolds me for my notes not being adequate? Despite her literally saying they were fine before?

I just texted back “ok, then consider this my resignation. I don’t appreciate how I’m being talked to or how this situation has been handled.” To which she replied “ok thanks for letting me know” if she was SO worried about being short handed, I’d think she’d care a bit more that I left the position entirely! She clearly didn’t like me for whatever reason despite me doing everything she asked whenever she asked.

She also turned around and posted my job online within like an hour and had all the other staff share it. I have a feeling she told them all I’m this horrible person for quitting on the spot, but they don’t know what really happened.

I submitted my official resignation to the district before she could even text again saying “I think the district will need a written paper. An email is fine” AN EMAIL IS FINE NOW??? God I’m still seething but I’m so glad I left. Everyone else there was so kind and understanding of my situation, but my main boss wasn’t and I don’t need that extra stress right now.

The good news is, I got an ultrasound done today & my baby is still looking fine! And my now former coworkers still checked in on me and asked me to keep them updated. I hope that administrator retires the moment she can in a year or two and I can take my job back without worrying about being stabbed in the back during a stressful time.

#miscarriage #pregnancy #shitty boss #I wanted to send the district her texts so bad #but I figured I’d just hold onto them for now #I contacted HR but only the superintendent responded #he at least said he understands my view point #but that’s more covering their asses than anything

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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago

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MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Underground Tomb edition!)

Hello friends and degenerate sinners, this is basically a mini headcanon set for Luci’s kid!MC about how the incident with Luke and the Grimoire would go down in this AU to tide you all over until Part 3 comes out! Enjoy!

It was a normal night in the good ol’ HOL... Lucifer was doing paperwork at an ungodly hour of the night, Beel was in the kitchen, and Mammon was screaming and running for dear life. Ah... sweet normalcy.

The custard incident remained the same, MC got force-fed custard and Beel threw a truly fantastic hunger tantrum that culminated in the wall connecting to MC’s room collapsing.

Cue lecture from Luci-father.

“I am very disappointed in you three.” Lucifer rubbed his temples as MC, Beel, and Mammon awkwardly stood in his room. Mammon of course, was trying to avoid the death glares MC was giving him. Poor bastard.

“Especially you two, MC and Beel.”

“Whuh?!” Mammon sputtered. “What about me?!”

“I expect this from you. These two on the other hand,” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at MC who was awkwardly trying to suppress a laugh at Mammon’s aghast expression. “Should know not to act like this.”

“We’re *snrk* sorry, father,” MC paused to try and muscle through a giggle. “It won’t happen again.”

“He ate my custard...” Beel pouted.

“So, MC won’t be able to use their room anymore due to the wall... collapsing.” Lucifer gave Beel a pointed glare.

Mammon smirked, and if he were sitting on a couch, we would have leaned back and kicked his feet up. “Well, obviously since I’m a kind and generous soul I’ll open up my room for poor MC to stay in. My babysittin’ rates are quite high though-”

“BABYSITTING?!” MC snarled, giving Mammon a death glare that could probably kill lesser demons.

Lucifer felt a twinge of pride upon seeing his child give someone his signature bone-chilling glare, if he weren’t supposed to be disappointed he would have given MC a pat on the head and let them hang Mammon from the ceiling.

“Uh- heh- MC, I’m your favourite uncle! Me babysittin’ ya should be an honour!” Mammon was sweating bullets and desperately looking to Beel for help.

“Levi is rapidly approaching favourite uncle status.” MC crossed their arms and huffed.

“Levi?! Wait- does that mean I was your favourite-”

Lucifer was almost tempted to stick MC in Mammon’s room just to have MC punish Mammon so he could get some sleep, tragically, his common sense won out. “MC will be staying with Beel. He has an extra bed in his room after all.”

MC looked over at Beel and smiled. “Could be worse, right? I’ll replace the custard.”

Beel’s smile upon hearing the last part could have lit up the entire Devildom. What a sweetie.

MC still chilled in Beel’s room. They finally got to ask more questions about Belphie, and Beel is more inclined to share what’s up because MC is his big bro’s kid after all!

Because of MC’s half demon-ness, they hadn’t met Belphie at that point in the story unlike in canon. They were just curious about their missing uncle. They ALSO already knew what Belphie looks like because Lucifer gave them an in depth tour of everything and he pointed out all the portraits.

MC, being the sadistic sweetheart they are, went out and bought themselves and Beel replacement custard. MC made sure to eat it right in front of Mammon.

But my oh my, who was texting them? *gasp!* Luke!

MC obviously let their little angel buddy into the house (Luke did not know about MC’s parental situation at that point, keep that in mind). Luke was fun to tease a little after all! And it was nice to have another kid around, but MC would never admit it.

Since MC had literally no reason to be afraid of their dear old dad, they went right up to him and asked him if Luke could stay over. No fear.

“Father?” MC leaned on the doorway to the backyard, Lucifer was playing fetch with Cerberus. MC had never seen someone play fetch so robotically.

“Yes, MC?” Cerberus’ middle head dropped a slobber covered squeaky toy into Lucifer’s gloved hand, the other two heads snapped at the middle one.

“Can I have a friend over?” MC asked, trotting over to give Cerberus some pets. On the first day the dog had tried to eat them, but after giving him some much tastier bacon treats, Cerberus was sweet as pie. Murderous and dangerous pie, that is.

“Do I know this friend?”

“Yes, it’s Luke. Can he stay over?”

Lucifer wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. “Cerberus is right here, you have access to a dog. Why on earth would you bring the chihuahua over?”

MC snorted and gave Cerberus’ right head some scratches behind the ears. “He’s not a chihuahua all the time, come on, it’s for the good of the exchange program!”

The two had a stare down for a little while, and to his absolute horror, Lucifer felt his resolve cracking. This child of his was too adorable for their own good. “Fine, MC.”

“Yes!” MC fist pumped as Cerberus’ middle and left heads tried to join in on the ear scritches.

“But note,” Lucifer continued. “I expect a full report to give to Lord Diavolo on this whole experience.”

MC frowned and debated sticking their tongue out at their father, they decided against it. “A paper? On a sleepover? Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Lucifer gave MC a flick on the nose. “Like you said, it has to do with the exchange program. Now go make sure the chihuahua doesn’t die and leave you with a mess to clean up.”

The look of complete terror Luke gave MC when they told him that Lucifer said he could stay over was completely worth the paper they were going to have to write.

“What?! You weren’t supposed to tell him I’m here!”

“He said you could stay.”

“Why?! Oh no... did he demand your soul as payment or something?! MC! You shouldn’t have put yourself in that nasty demon’s debt! Don’t worry, I’ll get your soul back somehow.”

MC should have been offended... but they weren’t. I mean, could you stay mad at Luke when he just offered to fight arguably the second most powerful demon in the Devildom to get your soul back?

Now that Luke’s presence in the house was known to everyone, the challenge was no longer keeping Luke hidden, it was making sure Luke didn’t say anything that would get him killed and making sure none of the demon bros made Luke cry.

Mammon was the main culprit of the teasing because Lucifer actually had better things to do. And he had a (totally not a) date with Diavolo so he’d be back late and wouldn’t be home to tease the chihuahua.

Mammon’s status as favourite uncle was hanging by a thread by the end of the first day.

Asmo thought Luke was positively adorable and also very annoying. He offered to paint MC and Luke’s nails. Luke declined, but MC was all for it. (Their cuticles were a MESS by the way, they needed the manicure.)

Luke’s nails were painted gold to match the gold on his outfit! Asmo was quite proud of his work, and was very offended when he was not allowed to try and braid Luke’s hair.

“It looks so soft!”

“You’re not allowed to touch my hair, demon!”

Satan still disliked MC on the basis that they were just a mini-Lucifer and hung out in his room or the library to avoid them and Luke.

It was incredibly annoying when Luke and MC burst into the library to look for cookbooks and treat recipes after Luke told MC about his baking endeavours. Satan debated ordering a pair of ear plugs on Akuzon...

Or perhaps a laser gun...

Both would make him stop hearing the children’s grating voices.

“You two, be quiet.”

“We haven’t spoken since we got in here...”

“You’re breathing too loud.”

Beel remained the only brother who was actually decent to Luke, they all played Go Fish in Beel’s room.

Levi was in his room playing his new video game just like in canon, but he could hear Luke and MC running around outside his room.

He was fully prepared to do that introvert thing where you stay in your room until you hear someone say goodbye to the guest.

Levi’s eyes were glued to his computer screen, just eight more skeleton monsters to kill and he’d get the achievement! His attention crumbled the moment he heard the dreaded sound of...

Guests...

“Hey MC! Whose room is this?”

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall caused Levi to jump in his seat. Oh no... his worst fears were realized! There was another person in the house!

“That’s Asmodeus’ room. Luke you shouldn’t go around opening everyone’s doors-”

The sound of another door opening and shutting made Levi pause his game and look at Henry 2.0 for help. Maybe if he jumped into the tank and wrapped himself in his tail he’d camouflage into his surroundings...

BAM!

AAAAA! Not enough time! The guest was drawing nearer... he was going to have to... *barf*... SOCIALIZE!

“How about this room?”

Levi braced himself for the incoming social contact... Fs in the chat everyone...

“We shouldn’t bother Levi, let’s do something else.”

HAJEKDJSJSJSJD- BEEL! BEEL JUST SAVED LEVI’S LIFE!

The poor third born slumped back in his seat, the awfulness of socialization avoided. He uh... hadn’t actually left his room in maybe three days... maybe he should actually go outside... enjoy the nonexistent sunlight, y’know?

...nah. Levi went back to his game.

Since the kitchen was broken, Beel, MC, and Luke went out and get AkuDonald’s. They were all out of the toy that Luke and MC wanted so that trip was a disaster! A disaster I say!

Just the image of Beel happily chomping on his eighth burger while Luke and MC angrily pick at their fries makes me want to laugh.

Now the question you’re all waiting for, did Lucifer try and kill Luke and Beel and then MC for trying to take the Grimoire?

N O

“Whose room is behind that door?” Luke pointed to the door to the attic staircase.

MC shrugged and hit their knuckles against the door a few times. “It’s just the door to the attic. My uh- Lucifer said not to go up there because it’s just full of old junk.”

Normally MC would scoff at the idea of being told what not to do and do it out of spite, but MC was a child, and like most children, they hated scary attics. They hadn’t even attempted to open the door in the month they had lived in the house.

“Hm, maybe he’s hiding something...” Luke puffed out his cheeks and knocked on the door. When met with no answer, Luke turned the doorknob. The door creaked open, and the two peeked inside.

A tall spiral staircase greeted them as they tentatively stepped inside. Not so-good Lord, the room was freezing, but it didn’t seem to bother Luke as he walked further into the room.

“What do you think’s up there?” Luke asked, craning his neck to try and get a look at what could be at the top of the stairs.

MC shuddered and crossed their arms. “Like Lucifer said, junk. Nothing important.”

There was a tingling feeling at the base of MC’s neck, their hand flew to the spot only to find nothing, but the uneasiness didn’t cease. Something was very... very off. A shudder creeped up their spine as Luke stepped closer to the staircase.

“Come on,” Luke tutted, placing a hand on the railing. “Demons are known liars!”

Luke was quite difficult to be friends with sometimes, MC had to admit.

With every step Luke took up the stairs, the sense of dread brewing in MC’s gut grew, but they remained rooted to the spot, it was almost like something was physically stopping them from getting closer to those stairs.

Luke stopped on the sixth step and craned his neck to look up again. “Hello?” He called out.

His little voice echoed up the staircase, he was met with no reply for a moment, until a massive shudder wracked both his and MC’s spines.

“Hello.” A voice replied.

Quick as lightning MC dove forward, taking three steps up the stairs despite what felt like electric shocks stabbing into their skin, and yanked Luke back down the stairs and out the door, closing it behind them. MC heard a lazy, carefree chuckle reverberate through their head, and a message that only MC could hear.

“Leaving so soon, Lucifer?”

...

Spooky right?

Anyway- back to Luke and MC being idiots together.

They headed back to Beel’s room to watch some Devildom kid shows, I assume Tom and Jerry just played on repeat.

Luke explained the reason he ran away from Purgatory Hall, and MC legitimately debated whether or not they should throw Luke out of the nearest window for all the jabs he was taking at demons.

“Simeon was going to go out for tea with Diavolo! He even said that I could ask Barbatos to instruct me on the finer points of baking!”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“They’re demons, MC! Simeon and I are angels from the Celestial Realm! We shouldn’t be consorting with demons.”

Once again, bless Beel and his lack of murderous rage when it came to anything other than food.

“MC, Lucifer would be upset if you broke a window.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing Luke, nothing you need to worry about.”

Don’t worry, no angels were harmed during the visit.

On day two of the extended sleepover, Luke and MC decided to go running around the house again.

“And this is the basement.” MC put their hands on their hips and kissed their teeth as they looked around the Underground tomb. “Perfectly creepy.”

Luke shuddered. “Is this house nothing but one creepy room after another..?”

MC smiled and stuck out their tongue. Their fear of the attic did not extend to the underground tomb. Not that they were actually afraid of the attic or anything...

“Why? You scared some big monster is gonna getcha?” MC teased.

“No!” Luke gasped. “I’m not scared!”

MC began to walk backwards into the darker depths of the tomb, their teasing tone echoing off of the walls. “Then come on! Don’t be chicken!”

Luke looked back and forth from the door out of there, to the rapidly disappearing figure of MC, he rushed after MC.

“I’m not scared of some dark basement.” Luke huffed.

“Why not~?” MC snickered. “There could be ghosts down here... tortured souls of those who were damned to Hell for all eternity~!”

MC swiped Luke’s hat and placed it on their head, Luke jumped at the sudden contact and began to try and get the hat back from MC.

“Stop trying to scare me!” Luke yapped, MC laughed and began to jog deeper into the tomb.

“Maybe there’s a monster that eats chihuahuas down here too! Who knows!” MC twirled the hat with their fingers and ran a little faster when Luke ran after them.

“I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!”

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best course of action to tease and scare one’s friend instead of telling them what they said earlier was mean, but MC wasn’t the best at decision making.

When MC reached a dead end, they stopped and looked around, Luke crashed right into them. He managed to swipe his hat back from a now disinterested MC.

MC’s gaze landed on a book being held up by a statue, they padded over and looked up at it.

“Luke, do you know what that is?” MC asked, turning to look at their now very miffed friend.

“The... book? I don’t know.”

Truthfully, MC didn’t know either. During their first tour of the house, Mammon had interrupted the Underground tomb segment and Lucifer had to cut the tour short.

“It’s uh...” MC pursed their lips and tried to think of a convincing lie. “A spell book. Lucifer told me that it makes your magic really really strong, so he stuck it down here to hide it from Solomon.”

“Did I now?”

MC and Luke screamed and whirled around, there stood Lucifer himself, not looking terribly pleased with the two of them.

“MC, care to explain why you and the angel are so close to the Grimoire?” Lucifer’s words were icily calm, and MC knew that meant if they didn’t come up with a good explanation they’d be in big trouble.

“W-we were just playing down here...” MC trailed off, looking to Luke for some kind of backup before realizing what a stupid idea that was.

“Y-yeah! We were just-”

Lucifer stuck his thumb over his shoulder and glowered at the two. “Out.”

“Yes sir.” Luke and MC mumbled as they stepped away from the Grimoire, Lucifer relaxed slightly as the two walked past him and down the hall.

When the two got back up to Beel’s room, Luke suddenly gasped and turned to MC.

“You said it was a spell book!”

After that, MC got the feeling that Luke was no longer welcome in the house. What was the big deal about almost touching the Grimoire anyway? It could only override pacts and control demons-

Oh.

Balls.

Simeon got called to pick up Luke and before the two of them left MC assured Luke that he could come over and hang out anytime as long as he texted first.

Beel said Luke could come over and bake when the kitchen was fixed, poor Beel would have to do without Luke’s baked goods for a little while longer.

MC rested their chin on the coffee table they were kneeling in front of, stewing in annoyance. Their unfinished homework was practically mocking them, but the Demonology textbook was not what had them in their funk.

“MC, do your homework.” Lucifer said from the living room couch, he was comparing his phone to notes in a binder that was placed on his lap.

A grunt from MC caused him to raise an eyebrow. Their grasp on demonic language had improved, but Lucifer did not approve of them using their new skill to sass him.

“MC.” Lucifer chided, MC turned to look at him with a deadpan expression. “If there’s something wrong, either tell me, or do your work without complaining.”

MC turned back to their homework and tapped their pencil against the textbook, before puffing out their cheek and turning back to Lucifer.

“What’s in the attic?”

For the briefest of moments, Lucifer froze, he forcibly relaxed and went back to his work.

“Junk.” Lucifer replied. “Did you try and go up there?”

MC shook their head. “No, I went into the staircase room, but not up the stairs.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed, he then took a deep breath and looked at MC. “Good, there’s nothing of interest up there anyway. If you did go up there you might break something or hurt yourself.”

“Okay.” MC sighed, trying to push the voice from the attic out of their mind. “What about the Grimoire? Why is it down in the tomb?”

Lucifer could feel his patience growing thinner and thinner with every question. “So it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Why not just destroy it?” MC asked, their question wasn’t meant to be taken as an insult or be malicious, it was just legitimate curiosity. “Wouldn’t that be safer?”

The first born hesitated before he answered. He looked over MC, before shaking his head. “...I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

MC’s eyes narrowed, but they went back to their work all the same. It would be about ten minutes of quiet before MC spoke up again.

“When Belphegor gets back from the human world, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to look at MC, who still had their back turned to him as they scribbled notes from the textbook. His grip on his DDD tightened as he replied.

“Why do you say that, MC?”

MC didn’t seem to register their father’s clipped tone, and shrugged. “Beel said that he isn’t answering his texts or calls, and when he sent up a letter Belphegor didn’t respond to that either.”

“The life of an exchange student is a busy one, as you can see.” Lucifer forcibly injected his last bit of remaining calmness into his words as he gestured at MC’s homework. MC laughed at that.

“Yeah well, I still make time to call my friends and ren back up in the human world.” MC giggled. “And I’m sure those text notifications about his older brother discovering that he has a child would make him pick up the phone.”

“Belphegor might have a much larger workload.” Lucifer retorted, trying to keep himself from snapping at MC.

“But still, you’d think he’d call his-”

“MC-” Lucifer snarled, MC whirled around, the fear and shock in their eyes caused anything Lucifer was going to say to die in his throat.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lucifer took another deep breath and turned back to his work.

“Not right now, MC,” Lucifer whispered. “I’m working.”

...

To be continued...

#Obey me #Obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Satan #Lucifer’s Kid #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Luke #when I say to be continued- I mean more diverging from canon #I have a feeling the lovely London family trip went smoothly... totally

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works-of-fanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

“He’s the Best.” - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham struggles with his self-esteem within the band and the reader tries to cheer him up.

Requested by: Anon. I hope you like this <3

Warnings: Swearing (literally once).

Word Count: 3.3k - a bit of a longer oneshot from me! I didn’t mean for it to be this long.

A/N: I’ve been writing this and putting it off for days because I just don’t know if I like it, but I don’t want to restart it. Argh… I hope someone enjoys this cheese fest.

* Gif credits to the linked creator

_______________

No one in this life is born ‘better’ than anybody else. It’s not a competition or a game of comparison. Every single human on this planet has their own unique qualities that make them interesting and most importantly, worthy. However, humans sadly aren’t wired to see those qualities in themselves. They spend the majority of their lives obsessing over others; wondering if they’re as talented as the next man, or if they’ll ever look as good as whatshername. Sometimes, it gets to a point where even the deepest of friendships can become strained due to one or more parties comparing themselves to another’s achievements.

And seeing Graham go through exactly that, has been killing me. There was a time when everything Graham and Damon did together, was truly that - together. Every single melody, riff, lyric - it was theirs. Neither one did more work than the other, neither was more musically talented. They were both kids crammed inside a Portakabin with their very first instruments, strumming and plucking and making probably rather bothersome noise. They had no idea what was to become of their lunchtime jam sessions and after school practices. Both were just excited to have a friend that liked the same things as them, and enjoyed the noise the other was making.

But Graham has since become a shadow of who he once was around Damon - he’s become Damon’s shadow. Or so he thinks.

Being in a band with a boisterous frontman like Damon was bound to become hard work for the other members at one point or another, but I never thought it would affect Graham like this. It’s getting harder to communicate with him, and I know it’s not his fault but I’m running out of things to say to fill the silences. There’s only so many times I can ask if he wants a cup of tea, or tell him about the encounter I had at the bus stop earlier that day. I’m sick of hearing my own voice, so I can’t imagine how he must feel. The silence seems to be the only thing he wants; he doesn’t write anymore, he hardly plays guitar outside of work commitments, and he hasn’t picked up his sketchbook in weeks. He just seems to stare at the TV or sit on the sofa with his head buried in a book that’s stuck on the first chapter. I watched him the other day and in forty-five minutes, he turned the page once. I bet if I asked him about the story he wouldn’t be able to recall a single character’s name, never mind the plot.

Watching him struggle with his self-esteem is crushing, and I don’t want him to live another second feeling the way he does. I know it may take a while for him to find himself again, but if I can do anything to help move things along, it’s worth a try. I’d drop everything for Graham in a heartbeat.

“I dropped those music stands off today. Did you get them?” Dave asks, his voice a little crackly on the other end of the phone.

“I did, thank you!” I chime, balancing the phone between my shoulder and ear as I assemble the very same stands.

“Oh, good. I was a little worried about leaving them outside. I thought somebody would take them… What do you need them for anyway?”

“That’s something for me to know and you to find out, Dave.” I laugh, tightening one last knob on the second stand and straightening it out. I stand back and admire my handy work, smiling at the prospect of what they are to become.

“Alright, alright. Well, I hope they come in handy! I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks again. See you next week!”

We both hang up and I grab the stands, climbing up the stairs and into the spare room, placing them in their desired places. Grabbing two pieces of sheet music, I slot them onto the stands neatly and adjust them until they’re perfect. With one last thing to check, I turn on the projector I borrowed from an old university friend and let the film play out on the blank wall opposite. I mess with the sound a little, making sure it’s loud enough before rewinding the footage to the beginning and turning it off until later.

Standing in the middle of the room, I turn around and admire everything on the walls. Everything from lyrics to old album art concepts, to still life paintings from Graham’s time at Goldsmith’s. Beside the music stands, there’s crates filled with records, decorated with lyrics scribbled onto scraps of paper, some in Graham’s handwriting and others in mine. I of course, couldn’t resist writing them out in various colours and covering them in star-shaped stickers. The finishing touch is a large beanbag against the wall for us to sit and watch the projector from. I fluff up the beanbag for the thousandth time before heading downstairs to wait for Graham to get back.

It takes around two hours for Graham to arrive home. As soon as I hear his taxi pull up outside, I jump up from the sofa and head into the kitchen to flick the kettle on. Nerves bubble through me as I anticipate his entry. It’s impossible to predict how Graham’s going to be feeling on any given day. He could come through the door and speak to me as normal, or he could disappear into his studio until he’s tired enough to head to bed. Through the rumbling of the kettle I listen out for the door, fingers impatiently tapping on the counter as my gaze fixates on a magpie outside, shakily balancing on the washing line. A second joins it and I smile, muscle memory taking over as I pour the boiled water into two cups, not taking my eyes off of the birds.

“Hi.” Graham’s voice peeps behind me. Putting the kettle down, I turn around with a warm smile on my face. Despite everything Graham has been going through, seeing him come through that door every day is still my favourite sight. Having him come home to me will simply never get old. I don’t know what I’ll do when he has to go out on tour again in a few months.

“Hey.” I breathe, the sides of my face already beginning to feel sore from the ridiculous grin stuck on it. He smiles back, the expression not quite reaching his eyes but I know he means well. He’s trying. “You go and sit down. I’ll bring these in.” I gesture to the brewing teas on the counter and he nods, hanging his bag on the nearest kitchen chair and leaving the room without another word. I finish the drinks as quickly as possible, grabbing the stack of takeaway menus from the junk drawer and bringing them with me, the pieces of paper clamped between my teeth as I concentrate on carrying the two steaming hot cups in my hands.

Setting the cups down on the coffee table, I toss the menus onto the sofa next to where Graham is very aggressively, trying to pull his Docs off. “Need a little help?” I ask, laughing as I kneel down and bat his hands out of the way. “It would help if you untied them.”

“It’s easier to leave them tied.”

“Oh, really?” I scoff, gesturing to his feet still stuck in the cherry red boots. The laces are a complete mess with three bulky knots in them. I sit down cross-legged on the carpet, carefully plucking and unravelling each knot whilst Graham buries his head in the takeaway menus. “How do you even - “ I struggle, pulling at the frayed shoelace whilst trying not to damage it further, “- get these things on?” With one last tug, the first lace loosens and I’m able to slide the boot off with ease. Graham’s face pops out from behind the menu, a side-smile plastered onto his lips and a cheeky glint in his eyes. I know he wants to laugh.

“Shall we get Indian tonight?” He changes the subject, flipping over the tatty piece of bright orange paper as he squints at the options. He always orders the same thing, yet still insists on reading the whole menu front to back. He does it for every restaurant.

“Indian sounds good.” I nod, pulling the second boot off and shoving them to the side. “I’ll call them now.” Jumping up to grab the phone, I type the number in from memory and hold it up to my ear.

“What’s the rush?” Graham mouths and I hush him when somebody answers. I order the usual along with some extras and give them our address, despite them not even really needing it anymore. The phone call is no longer than a minute and Graham sits staring at me, nose scrunched in confusion. “Are you going to tell me what’s going - “

“Follow me.” I blurt out, stretching my arm towards him and rising onto my tiptoes out of excitement. He stands slowly, shrugging off his jacket and leaving it on the sofa. “I was going to wait until we’d had our food, but I have to show you now.”

“Show me what?” He asks as I grab his wrist and drag him up the stairs. We squeeze up the narrow staircase, almost tripping each other over a couple times until we stop on the landing, feet overlapping one another’s on the small square of carpet.

“I know you haven’t really been yourself lately.” I start, my fingers slipping from Graham’s wrist to entwine with his. He looks down, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes watch our hands as I lightly stroke the back of his thumb in an attempt to relax him. He has a habit of tensing up whenever I broach the subject. “So I wanted to remind you just how great you are.”

I watch his face intently, the corners of his mouth twitching and trying to smile. With my free hand, I open the door and flick the light on, pulling Graham into the room with me. His hand slips from my grasp and I back up to stand against the wall, watching as he takes in the room around him and everything in it.

He walks to the music stands first, fingers tracing the notes on the pages, flipping them over then back again. He walks towards the canvas on the back wall - a woodland painting he’d won a prize for back in college - running his hand over the textured patch of paint that forms the trees. I nervously bite the back of my thumb as he kneels down to sift through the records in the large black case below, flicking through every Blur album and single released to this day. My favourite lyrics are scattered on sheets of paper all over the ground, and he picks up the second verse from Coffee & TV. “You’ve always loved this one.” He says, turning to me and smiling.

“I happen to really like the guy who sings it.”

“He must be pretty good then.”

“Oh, he’s the best.” Resting my foot against the wall, I kick my body forward and stand straight, joining Graham beside the projector.

“What’s this for?” He asks, hands hovering near the buttons but not daring to touch anything. I take his hands in mine and give them a loving squeeze.

“Sit down and I’ll show you.” I chirp and he sinks down onto the beanbag. I mess with the projector until the sound starts to creep in, stretching over to switch off the light. Graham shuffles to the side to make some room for me on the beanbag and I flop down beside him, nestling into his side.

The image from the projector is surprisingly clear against the wall, although could’ve been improved had I borrowed a screen from somewhere. A variety of different clips play out in front of us, ranging from Graham performing onstage to snippets of his band members talking and praising their guitarist. I try my hardest to focus on the film in front of me, but I can’t help glancing over at Graham to see his reactions. His brows are furrowed, but not necessarily in a bad way - he’s focused, fully concentrating on everything he’s seeing and hearing.

I fidget with my hands, twiddling my thumbs and quietly cracking my knuckles. Graham notices this and grabs my left hand, squeezing it tightly and bringing it over to rest in his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder, I press a kiss onto his sleeve, rubbing my head against him and breathing in his familiar scent. He lays his head on top of mine, but never looks away from the video playing on the wall. Absentmindedly, his fingertips dance on the back of my hand, the drumming following the beat of Song 2 as it plays from the projector. I too can’t help bopping along to the beat, my foot tapping softly on the carpet.

The video closes with one final clip, a message I recorded for Graham. Too embarrassed to watch myself, my focus stays on him as I squeeze his hand a little tighter and snuggle up as close as possible. The picture begins to fade and the sound plays out until there’s no footage left, and the whirring of the projector becomes background noise in the room. Graham doesn’t say anything at first, but as I try to stand to turn the projector off, he pulls me back down onto the beanbag and rotates his body to face mine.

“Hey.” I whisper, my right hand supporting his cheek as he leans into me, his eyes closed and lips pressed into a line. Our bodies slot into one another’s on the beanbag, the very little space between us growing warmer by the second.

Graham releases a deep breath, his eyes slowly opening again with a small smile spreading across his face. It’s hard to see him properly in the dimly lit room, but I could never mistake those big brown eyes staring at me. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” He says, his voice low as he leans in close to speak like we’re the only two people who matter inside a crowded room.

“I wanted to show you how incredible you are. You’ve been so hard on yourself and I just - “ As I speak, tears start to well up in my eyes and I look up to the ceiling to try and stop them from falling. I’d already told myself earlier that I wouldn’t cry, because I don’t want Graham to think he’s upset me. I press at my eyes lightly with my fingertips in an attempt to push the tears away. “I can’t stand seeing you this way because you don’t deserve to feel like this. If it wasn’t for you, Blur wouldn’t exist! Everything you’ve all achieved wouldn’t have happened.” My voice begins to shake and I feel Graham’s hand on my arm, rubbing it gently to try and calm me down.

“Y/N.” He starts, before reaching up to turn on the light. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust, before my gaze falls to the ground to avoid his. If I look at him properly, I know I’ll start bawling. “Look at me. Please.”

“I can’t. I can’t because I’ll cry, and then you’ll get upset and I don’t want to make you feel any worse than wha - “

“You won’t upset me. Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve - “

“No, Graham. Don’t apologise.” I grip onto his shirt tightly, my fingers tangling in the fabric. Graham bows his head and nudges it against mine, edging closer until he pushes my head up with his and our noses are almost touching. We both open our eyes, our faces too close that my vision is distorted and I’m seeing double. I pull back, sniffling once and dabbing at my eyes again, still not allowing any tears to actually emerge.

“I’m sorry,“ he starts and I sigh at his words, but he hushes me by holding his finger up to my face, “for putting you through this. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t realise how it was making you feel.”

“Graham, this isn’t about me.”

“But it affects you. Bloody hell, if I had to live with this miserable twat - “ he points to himself and I scoff, slapping the back of his hand playfully. “ - I’d have given up by now.”

“I would never give up on you.” My voice is barely above a whisper, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. Graham goes silent again, staring down at our joined hands and moving his thumbs around. I nudge his head with mine in the same way he did previously and he sniffles, his chest rising and immediately falling again. “Graham?” I bring my hand to his chin and push his face up to find his eyes watery, and cheeks significantly more red compared to a moment ago.

“God, look at me. What the hell are you still doing with me, ay? I’m a bleeding mess.” He sniffs, roughly wiping tears off of his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

“Because I wouldn’t want to be with anybody else.”

“Not even - “

“Ah! Stop right there. There’ll be no more of that.” I take his hands away from his face, holding onto them loosely. “Graham Coxon, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. And I’ll give you a free pass to slap me silly for being so cheesy.” I laugh, his grip on my hands tightening as he awkwardly slides closer on the beanbag, his body sinking into it at a strange angle and pulling me with him. “I love you.”

Within a second, Graham’s hands are on both sides of my face, pulling me in for a kiss; the kind of kiss that feels like the person is pouring their entire heart out to you. Like the kiss between the main characters of a movie, when they’ve just ran across a field or a busy road to collide with another at the centre. His lips messily press against mine and I can feel the stray tears running down his face as they dampen my cheeks. My hands rest on his legs, holding on firmly as his thumbs dig into my face a little. It doesn’t hurt, but he soon pulls away and swipes at my face softly as if to apologise for it. He uses his sleeve to dry my face and I do the same for him, small gasps of laughter exchanging between us.

“Thank you for doing this. If you can’t tell, I really love it.” He says sincerely with a genuine smile, the biggest smile I’ve seen from him in weeks. The expression is infectious and I can’t help mimicking him as I grin back like the Cheshire Cat. The faint sound of knocking from downstairs pulls us out of our romance film-esque daydream and we both clamber to our feet.

As we approach the stairs, Graham stops and spins me around, pulling me into him. I land against his chest with a huff, before adjusting my hair and looking up at him. “After we eat, can you show me the film again?” He asks, his hand meeting mine to help me fix the loose hairs falling in my eyes.

“We can watch it as many times as you like.”

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #oneshot #blur #request #anon request

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Extra Credit

based on this cause @avhrodite and I were texting, and she told me to write it! so this is for you miss bailey <3

also feedback is always appreciated! literally rb, comment, or an anon ask means the world to fanfic writers, now that tumblr’s algorithm is messed up.

enjoy 7.6k of professor!harry lovelies!

also the intimidating as fuck photo that inspired this, and will be used in the story!

Sexuality Studies. Room 3017.

You had stalled from walking into class with a nervous gut feeling in your stomach with a heavy textbook in your arms, too big to be put in your backpack, but it felt like your book was weighing you down. People were walking around each other to find a vacant seat as you stood there next to the door as you waited till the last minute to walk in and take your seat.

There were a few reasons why you were nervous to walk in. One, it was basically sex class. Your friend had taken the class a few semesters ago, and had told you the basics of it and the rundown. There was a lot of sex talking towards the end.

And although, you’ve had had sex before, you still felt like you were inexperienced. Your sex life was boring, and nonexistent as of a month ago when you broke it off with your, now ex, friends with benefits. He just wasn’t doing the job, like at all. He never made sure you were having a good time or getting off. And that’s just one of the reasons why you broke it off with him. Luckily, he wasn’t mad and didn’t ask questions. Just said ‘oh, okay’ and bid his goodbye. That had made you a bit sad, knowing he didn’t care whatsoever. You two had only been fucking for a month, and the excitement had left your body the first night you slept with him.

The second reason goes along well with the first, and that’s because you aren’t that comfortable. Again, you’ve sex, but you weren’t comfortable in yourself--your sexuality. You never really had time or experience to explore your body or others because you’ve only slept with two people. In that sense, you didn’t know what you liked sexually and what your partner liked, other than blowjobs, handjobs, and being able to cum while fucking you. But there was more to it; you wanted the details, the ticks, sensitive spots, everything. But you’ve slept with lousy frat boys who didn’t care enough to ask if you had finished.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing that you have about two minutes before you have to go in. You take a deep breath, walking over to the opposite side of the wall, preparing yourself to walk in. You don’t know why it was so hard for you to just walk in and sit down. The thought of having to sit through an hour and a half class that is mainly about sex isn’t that hard to deal with either, but your insecurities and anxiety is getting the better of you. With a couple of neck rolls and inhales to deep exhales, you were ready before you heard a voice next to you.

“Nervous about the first day?” You look up to find an incredibly attractive man smiling down at you. His smile had made you blush and his intent eye contact had made you nervous. The way he just looks insanely sexy, and you think his hair is better than yours. He wears a simple button down shirt with two birds next to the collar, along with black jeans and boots. And you think, he’s so good looking and dresses well too. For a student, you don’t see anyone dress or look like him at all.

“Uh, kinda? I don’t know,” you say as you are not quite sure what to answer, so you said the easiest thing that didn’t have to do with how you’re feeling right now.

“No need to be nervous. This semester will go by quickly and I heard the professor is really cool too,” the man says with a reassuring smile, and you felt a bit better because he was right. This class would be a breeze and then you wouldn’t have to retake it, unless you fail.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you. Uh, do you want to sit next to me?” You made the bold move to ask him, and it had shocked you. You never made the first move, but you figured that you needed more friends anyways.

“Oh, thank you, but can’t do that. Let’s go in, shall we?” He waves his hand out, leading you to go first.

You cheeks were filled with embarrassment, thinking that your bold move was a stupid move. Of course, he didn’t want to sit next to you. He barely knows you. You roll your eyes at yourself, making your way to the first row as all the seats behind the front row were taken, and you didn’t want to take the time to look around. You take a seat as your head sank lower from awkwardness you had felt, and you set your book down on the desk and heard your professor speak.

“Hello, class. Welcome to ‘Sexuality Studies.’ I’m Professor Styles. Shall we get started?” Your mouth had been open the entire time he was introducing himself. Shocked was an understatement as you didn’t realize you were talking to your professor outside of the class, but that hadn’t made your embarrassing moment less worse.

How did you not realize that? You should’ve seen it coming because you were thinking about how no student on campus dresses or looks the way he does, and you didn’t think to put the pieces together.

But, fuck.

He was sexy as a ‘student’, but as the professor, that was a different story. You had felt the weird feeling in your stomach, triggering your arousal as you watched him talk to the entirety of the class about what’s to be expected. You turned around slightly and observed the room; noticing that most of the class were girls and there were a few guys, but the female population dominated the class. All the girls had hearts in their eyes, twirling, and biting their lip as they stared at their new professor; probably hoping they would get some extra credit in the middle of the semester to raise their grade or purposefully failing their test so he can call them into his office and they can have classic office sex.

The thought had made your eyes roll. Not at the thought of office sex because everyone knows that’s hot, but the thought of purposefully doing horrible in the class to fuck the professor is beyond you.

The class had gone by rather quickly, Professor Styles only talking about the basics of what everyone is going to learn such as culture, biological, health, anatomy, art, etc.

You walked out of the class in a hurry, not looking at your new professor and anticipated the next time you’ll meet.

The month had gone by rather smoothly, only taking two classes for the semester, so your workload isn’t too bad. The occasional thought about thinking your professor was a student had haunted you, and you think about it a bit more than you would like; feeling quite embarrassed and you’d hope that he had forgotten all about it.

You were sat at the coffee shop, head in your laptop and notes that you had taken during lecture as you were starting on your paper that is due in a little over two weeks. You were so into your introduction that your fingers were typing away on their own, that you didn't feel the presence of someone beside you.

“Hi. You’re in my sexuality class, right?” A voice from your right becomes present, and you look up, seeing your incredibly attractive professor looking down at you with a smile. There was no way in getting out of this one.

“Yes. Mr. Styles, hi,” you say nervously, but trying your best to hide it with your smile.

“Thought I recognized ya. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. I’m actually working on your paper right now,” you chuckle a bit.

“Are ya? What are you writing it on?” You get a bit sidetracked, realizing that he’s still standing and all of your stuff sits on the opposite side of the table. You reach over to move it onto your lap.

“You can sit if you’d like,” you offer. Harry debates for a second, and sees that there’s no harm in sitting with your student, so he gladly takes the seat across from you. “But I’m writing it on the fine line between masculinity and femininity.”

“Ahh, yes. That’s one of my favorite topics that we discussed,” he says.

“Yeah, me too. Pretty important for this day in age.”

“I’m right there with ya,” he agrees.

For the next 20 minutes, you and Harry talk about some main points. Discussing and going over what ideas you had in mind as Harry listens while nodding his head. He notices how passionate you are with the topic of your paper, and he appreciates the passion. Students will lazily write this paper, and it really shows in their work that makes him a bit disappointed because he had thought that he made the class fun; adding a few jokes and having the student participate with the lecture.

But listening to you talk about all the ideas that you wrote down; so far from the earth as you keep talking as he listens intently to you. You’re a sweet person, he’s noticed. You don’t participate all that much in class, but he figured that’s because you’re just a tad bit shy. And he’s still amused at the fact that you thought he was a student, which flattered him. But in all honesty, he can pass as one, and it wasn’t the first time someone mistaken him for a student.

Just as you were finished talking, a hint of pink made your cheeks flushed as you realized you were talking quite a bit, and keeping him from doing whatever he was supposed to. “I’m sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I get into things.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I’m glad you told me your ideas because I think they’re great.” He checks the time on his phone and sees that he should get going, and his coffee cup is empty already. “But I should get going. Don’t hesitate to ask me about anything for the paper. I’ll see you in class.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. Have a great rest of your day,” you bid him goodbye as he softly says ‘you too.’

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Although you had been comfortable talking to him, you have never actually had a close conversation with any of your professors, really. Especially not outside of campus. But you really did feel comfortable. You figured that it’s because Harry is in a way, younger than most professors—at least he looks young.

The rest of your time at the coffee shop was spent finishing up the second paragraph and your coffee before you head back to your apartment.

The paper was due in a week, and you felt confident about turning it in on time and doing a great job on it. But that did not stop you from going into Mr. Styles’ office during his office hours, and he did say not to hesitate to ask if you had any questions, so you were using that to your advantage to make your paper even better.

He was surprised to see you just after two days of seeing him at the coffee shop that happened the week prior; asking him how to rephrase some things and seeing where some ideas fit into the paragraphs that are already written. And Harry happily helped you. Although he thinks you don’t need help at all, seeing as you’re right on track on the topic.

But you had felt a sudden surge of confidence that has never hit you before. And you can tell yourself that you’re comfortable enough to ask him questions all you want, but in reality, you wanted to keep talking to him and most importantly, keep seeing him.

He had this sense of comfort to him that made you feel safe. You never felt the awkward tension that there is in when talking to other professors, and you were glad for it. Mr. Styles had made it a safe space for his students to talk to him. And aside from asking him about school related things, you two had gotten to know each other after the important questions were asked. The conversations were harmless, and you looked forward to them everytime.

A knock was heard on his office door and he told whoever was behind it to come in. You walked in with a smile, laptop and notebook held to your chest, walking in slowly as you closed the door behind you.

“Hi, Mr. Styles. Are you busy?”

He shakes his head, “no, no. How can I help you?” Harry had—and was still trying—to keep it professional between you two. And although nothing had happened, he can’t help but stop the flutter of his heart when you would walk in his class or his office as you gave him a small that he adored. He also noticed how concentrated you are during class; making sure to take every single note and word that he says, making him smile at the thought.

“Uh, I was kind of stuck on something that I could definitely use your help with.”

“Sure thing. That’s what I’m here for,” he gives you a smile, and you open your notebook, showing him the many marks and scribbles that you had planted out when brainstorming.

“So I came up with this idea because I thought it would be important to talk about the history of masculinity and femininity. I didn’t want to just talk about the modern times as of now. But maybe research how it affected people back in the day when they weren’t acting as their…assigned sexuality, as you could say.”

“That sounds great. You can talk about that and during the times of the first pride march. That would definitely be interesting. But I would say not to go too into it, it’s a pretty straightforward topic, and there’s just a lot that is covered during those times. Just so you don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he gives his opinion. You listen carefully and take in his words as if you’re making a mental list of things you should and shouldn’t write about.

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think so. Just wanted to ask you that,” you say as you close your notebook, but not getting up to leave yet.

“Okay, can I ask you something this time?”

“Uh, sure,” you respond nervously.

“I see that you’re pretty much on track of the paper, like you know what you’re talking about. And you seem really confident in what you want to say, which is good. And I’m all ears when it comes to students wanting feedback, but I just have to ask….” anxiety boils through your throat. “Is coming to see me practically 2 or 3 times a week have to do with your paper?” You take a deep inhale, but don’t let your breath loose. He read you extremely well, you have to say. And it was a bold move on Harry’s part to ask that because if you say the opposite, then he assumed pretty hard.

You finally let go of the breath you were holding in and answered, “no.”

“No. It doesn’t have to do with your paper?” You shake your head in confirmation. “Then what does it have to do with?” He asks, and you think he definitely already knows what’s going on, but needs you to say the words.

“I just…wanted to see you,” you say softly.

“And why is that?” At this point, he’s teasing you already. Probably wanting to make a fool out of yourself so he could go home and laugh about it to his girlfriend or boyfriend, which you assume he has. And the bold assumption that you had thought he felt that pull towards you was enough to make you feel embarrassed for the second time in front of him.

But the remains of the confidence were still pooling in your head, and you figured you had nothing to lose.

“I wanted to see you because… I can’t deny this attraction I feel towards you. And it’s not based solely on your looks either because no can hide the fact that you’re insanely attractive, but I’ve gotten to know you for who you are this past week and we had some good talks, which was nice because no one has ever gotten to know me well enough for me to fall for them within a week.”

You finish your confession with a straight face, but there was still a hint of hope that he would tell you he felt the same way.

“And on the topic of no one getting to know me, and this is a sexuality class and you’ve recently started talking about sex; I’ve never truly had the chance to explore with partners sexually and explore my sexuality more in depth than just someone sticking their dick inside me, and calling it good sex. So, you talking to me and getting to know me means a lot because no one wants to waste their time on what I like and what I’m into.”

You had said a mouthful, and it can be heard as inappropriate to say that to your professor, but again, why would a sexuality teacher judge you based on your past sex life?

A minute had passed that immediately felt like an hour. The only thing that was heard was the ticking of the wall clock, and that made the tension even more unbearable.

You get up from out of the chair, “I’m gonna go. Thanks for the help, Mr Styles.”

Before you reach for the door, he finally decides to speak, “Wait.” You turn around slowly and watch him get up from his chair, and walk towards you. His eyes are dark, and they don’t leave yours as he reaches you.

The proximity is close enough that you could lean forward and be pressed up against his chest, but you’re afraid that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself if you do that.

“You’ve fallen for me?” Is the thing that he could respond with after all that you’ve said.

“Yes. I’ve developed a crush on you, well, more than a crush because I do like you,” you say as you look up at him. He looks down at you intently, lips rolled into his mouth. He smells amazing from how close you are, that it’s like a potion that keeps luring you in, wanting more.

“Do ya?”

“I think I make myself pretty clear on that,” you respond with a bit of sass.

“Don’t give me attitude,” his tone changed to dominant, and a pool in your panties made itself present.

“What are you gonna do about it, Mr Styles?” You test, and move closer to him, lips almost touching. You can possibly reach up and your lips will be in sync. A smirk comes to play on his face as if you’ve made the wrong move, but you’re so ready for what’s to come.

And for a split second, it looked like he was leaning in a tad bit to go in for a kiss, but retracts back. “I’ll see you in my next class.” With that, he pulls back and walks back to his chair.

You’re left stunned, mouth slightly open, surprised he didn’t make a move. He didn’t even tell you if he felt the same way, and if it were any other day, you would’ve felt extremely sad, but there was so much tension in the room you needed to go home and take care of yourself.

And that’s what you did.

Once you got back home, you ran a bath for yourself and sat in it as you ran over your skin, leading to where you ached the most. Many thoughts of Mr. Styles doing this to you as he sat behind you in the bath, knowing that you would make a mess on his long fingers and pretty hands. And that definitely helped you reach our orgasm as you moan out his name, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly odd about it.

You finally turned in your paper on the last day it was due, and you were extremely happy with it. You added the history of not acting like your original self, taking Mr. Styles’ advice and not going too in depth with it. This has marked as a halfway point to graduating with your bachelors, and you were ecstatic.

It had also been a week since the tension filled scene that had happened in your professor’s office, and you haven’t been back since. Seeming as you didn’t need to since there were no needed assignments, but you had thought you would visit him in his office everyday after what you had confessed.

It didn’t get easier sitting in his class as he stood up in front of everyone looking so hot as he wore a crisp blue button down with a polka dot tie, and a pink blazer over it. He knew your secret. He knew that you had the hots for him. And he knew that he didn’t say anything to reciprocate those feelings. And you tried very hard not to let it get to you.

The lecture had ted to your paper topic: masculinity and femininity. But this time, it was open for class discussion. You weren’t big on talking in class; just preferred listening to everyone’s opinions and making your own in your head, but the ignorance that someone had made you argue with him.

“I personally feel like men should stay on the masculinity side, and women on the femininity side.” You had turned around to see the guy who had said that. He was wearing a football jersey of the university, laughing with his two friends.

“And why do you think that?” Mr Styles follows up.

“It’s simple. You shouldn’t act as if you’re someone you’re not-”

“That makes a good point in your argument though,” you interrupt, turning in your seat to look at the jock at the top. “You shouldn’t act like someone you’re not, so why would you act like someone you don’t want to be?” The guy had shut up, making you smirk. “I just think that being masculine and feminine as your biological gender is a social construct. It just takes away the substance of that person when people look down on them for being true to themselves. So, why does masculinity only apply to men, and femininity only apply to women?”

Harry smirks at your discussion. It had surprised him that you spoke up in his class, but it didn’t surprise him when you spoke up about this topic. You had definitely shut down his other student, and he was proud of you for that.

The class was dismissed and as you were making your way towards the door, someone stopped you.

“Hey, really great argument back there.” It was the ignorant jock.

“Thanks.” You walked out of the class to get out of everyone’s way, stopping at the wall across from the class.

“I didn’t mean to sound so douchey back there, but what you said really got me thinking, and I see where you’re coming from.”

“I’m glad. You learn something new everyday…”

Harry was watching you the entire time you left your seat to when his student stopped you to have a chat. He had thought you were going to shut him down for being ignorant, but he saw you smile and laugh a little, making him breath deeply as he glared at you, brows furrowed, and coffee cup in his hand. Harry then sees him take out his phone, obvious that he’s asking for his number and he sees you blush as you talk.

Harry tries to control his breathing, and in another world, steam would be coming out of his ears. He walks towards the door, thinking that he was going to call you into his class, but decides against it and shuts the door.

It was already nearing the end of the semester, and you have yet to talk to him.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you had slightly gotten over his unreciprocated feelings, you would have probably dropped out of the class and waited another semester to finish. But you couldn’t let him do that to you; you were way too close to the finish line.

Mr. Styles was in his final topic of speaking about the fun part of sex, and how it could be pleasurable. He talked about the anatomy of it at first, moving onto the techniques. And the techniques he used on how to pleasure a woman and man had you hot in your seat. He demonstrated using his finger, showing the class the way to finger someone, and you couldn’t help but cross your legs. And you were sure everyone was doing so as well.

The simple demonstration of his fingers making a curling motion as if he’s fingering someone made you clench. You had been right about his fingers bringing you to pleasure, and all you wanted to do was rush home and imagine it again since you have a full visual.

“Okay, class. I have an extra credit opportunity for you.” The class perks up at that. You had a low A in the class, and although you were confident about the final, you didn’t want to risk it, so you listened.

“Since this is a sexuality class, I hoped I didn’t make anyone uncomfortable on what I just did,” the class laughed a bit, and you smiled. “For this extra credit, I want you to go to a sex store and buy a toy that can be pretty much anything. Come back and show me, and I will mark you down for points. I don’t require a paper on this, so it is fairly easy, but this is to show that you should be comfortable in your sexuality, and walking into a sex store should be easy for you because there’s nothing wrong with that whatsoever because everyone has needs and if someone judges you, then they’re not getting laid.” The class laughs again. “You can return it if you want after I mark you down or you can keep it. A win win for everyone! Okay, class dismissed.”

You walked out of class with a smile on your face as Mr Styles lightened up everyone’s mood as everyone was stressing for finals. You were glad for it; the weight on your shoulders were still heavy, but a good laugh was needed.

You had two weeks to buy and show him the extra credit, and two weeks until you graduated. The days were counting down at this point, and before you knew it, it was the final week.

You had passed both of your finals with flying colors, and you had the rest of the week to finally relax as you were graduating at the end of the week. The apartment was a mess, and you finally had time to tidy it up a bit; fix the mess of papers on your kitchen table and put your laundry away. You also used that time to finally go out and get your extra credit.

It would be a lie if you had told yourself that you were too lazy to go out and actually buy your extra credit assignment, but that was far from the truth. If you had energy to get up and clean around your home, then you could have easily gotten up and buy a sex toy.

But it was the anxious feeling that you had that you were going to see him so up close, and actually get to talk to him again that stopped you.

The crush on your professor hadn’t died done any less, but it hadn’t increased either. You were stuck in a plateau of not getting over him and not falling for him more. You figured it’s because you see him every week, so you were hoping by this time, you were on your way to getting over him.

You made your way into the sex shop with nerves as you haven’t been into one before, and it was a very relaxed set up. Various of sex toys used for both genders were set against the wall, and a red curtain that led to something in the back that, you assumed, was the more extreme items.

You scanned the toys, figuring that it would be easy to just get a vibrator. Your hands shook as you went to grab the boxed toy, and you remembered Mr Styles’ words; there’s no reason to be ashamed in buying any of these, and that relaxed you.

The employee who rang you up was the sweetest. She greeted you with a bubbly smile, and told you that you had made a great choice because she has the same one. You didn’t tell her that it was for a school thing, because that would sound really weird, and you didn’t tell her that you were planning on returning it later on.

You drove to campus, hoping that Mr Styles was in his office. The drive was a 30 minute drive as you lived a bit far from the school, but you didn’t mind the drive.

Harry heard a knock on his office door, telling them to enter. His eyes perked up as you made yourself present as you opened the door. His heart was beating in his chest as he saw you; remembering the last time you were in his office and missing the presence of you being close again.

“Hi. How are you?” He pointed to the chair, and you sat down. Your heart was pounding as well, feeling nervous about being in his office again.

“I’m doing good. How are you?”

“I’m well, thanks. What can I do for you?” He asks politely. You reach into your bag and grab the box to show him your extra credit assignment. “Ahh,” he lets out as he sees the box. “Perfect. Let me mark you down for that.”

“Thank you,” you say as you put the toy back inside your bag. “Can I ask how I did on the final? If you’ve already finished grading it.”

“Yes. You did really well, actually,” he says as he shuffles through his papers, looking for the grade book. “Ah, here. You got a 95.” That made you smile. You were quite confident for the final, but hearing that you did well brightened up your day. “And that boosted up your grade to a 94, plus the extra credit, that will go up to a 97.”

Your eyes widened; you had passed both classes with an A, and you were extremely excited about that; and it takes everything in you to not jump up and scream. “Wow, thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You deserve it. I’m proud of you,” he smiles at you, and your heart swoons, telling him a thank you. “You graduate at the end of the week right?” You nod. “Excited?”

“Very. I really only needed to take this class, but I was putting it off because my friend took this course and said it was pretty sexual, and that made me a bit uncomfortable if I’m being honest. But I really enjoyed this class…you made it bearable.” Harry blushes, thinking how happy he is that you took the class with him.

“Well, I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he says .

There was silence that washed over you two with the slightest bit of tension; debating if either one should bring up what happened the last time you were in his office. You were feeling so many things at the moment, and he was too, but you were sure it was inappropriate to talk about it when technically, nothing even happened.

“I should get going,” you say instead.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you…uh, around,” he says hesitantly. You tell him goodbye and walk out of his office, probably the last time you would ever see him.

You had finally graduated, and you couldn’t be more happy and proud for yourself. A relieved feeling ran through you when you had put on your cap and gown, and the thought made you tear up. You were done, for now, before you had to go to grad school and get your masters degree. But either way, you were ecstatic.

Now a week has gone by since graduation, and you decided to do some errands. You also needed to make your way to the sex shop and return your item.

As you entered the door you had walked through once before, your eyes immediately spotted the familiar man who had made your heart flutter by the simple act of eye contact. And if it was by instincts, Harry turns his head towards the door and sees you standing at the entrance. He hadn’t seen you since the time in his office and he saw you walk for graduation, if that counts.

There was no way of avoiding him, so you walked over to him. “Hi, Mr Styles.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that anymore. You graduated already,” he smirks, and you chuckle.

“Then what should I call you?”

Yours. “Harry.”

You tilt your head to the side, seeing how fitting his name is on him. “Okay, Harry. What are you doing here anyways?” The question had slipped out of your mouth, but you think that there’s nothing awkward with it.

“Oh, uh, just looking for a cock ring,” he says honestly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m actually returning my extra credit purchase,” you chuckle.

“Are ya? Why don't you keep it?”

“I don’t know…I actually never used a toy before, and I got a bit intimidated by it.” Harry nods understandingly.

“See, a win win for everyone. You either get your money back or you get a nice orgasm out of it,” he laughs, and you agree with him.“I think you should keep it. This is the time you get to explore your sexuality.” You debate a bit. He was right, and you did have some spare time as of now, so you decided to keep it; see what this thing can really do.

“If you’d like…would you like to get some lunch with me?” He asks, taking you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes brighten. “Of course.”

It was like you were waiting for this moment to come. You had waited for him to ask you out and properly get to know each other outside of school. Harry had taken you to a small shop that sold burgers and fries, and you two sat in the patio of the shop; talking, eating, and laughing at stories you told each other.

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, nervously. “When I told you I liked you in your office that one time, why didn’t you say anything back?”

“To be honest, I was nervous. You’re 22 and I’m six years older than you, and although that didn’t matter much to me, you were on the edge of graduating. I couldn’t risk that, even with how much I like you. The thought of getting caught and losing your chance to graduate, and possibly your acceptance for your masters, would just be selfish on my part because I couldn’t keep it in my pants… So I waited until you graduated; didn’t even know if I was going to see you again if I’m honest.”

You understood well on why he didn’t do anything to reciprocate his feelings, and you were grateful he didn’t until now.

By the end of it, you didn’t want the day to end so you invited him to your apartment.

You two sat on your couch, which thankfully you cleaned the place before, and talked some more and put on a movie. You two were inching closer to one another until you both were cuddling. You had rested your legs on his as he runs his fingers over your ankles, scratching your skin lightly.

You were breathing heavily, wanting to just make more than just innocent touches. As if Harry read your mind, he turned his head to look at you; a striking look in his eyes as you both look at each other. The air was heavy, sexual tension coming in hot.

“Harry…”

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me.”

Harry wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. The softness of your lips meeting his is enough to drive him crazy. The pull you have on his hair makes him let out a moan into your mouth as you whimper into his. Chests are pulled close together, but not close enough as the hold on each other is tight; afraid one might let go.

Harry found himself in your bedroom, and it seemed like he blanked out during that time. Your kisses probably just pulled him into another world, where he debated if this was real life or if he was dreaming it. It was all real, but it was lovely to dream about.

You sat on the bed as you continued to kiss while Harry was standing above you; him leaning down and you reaching up. You were close to his hard on, and it took everything in him not to drop his pants and have you taste him, but it wasn’t going to be about him.

This is going to be about you.

You’d managed to get both of your shirts off, wanting yourself bare and to see his chest. You were surprised with the amount of tattoos that littered his skin. It was beautiful and raw, and him. You went to press a kiss to the butterfly on his stomach; the only one you can reach, and trailing down to the vines on his hips. Harry throws his head back, loving the feeling of your lips on his. You reach for his pants and before you can fully unbutton, he stops you.

“No, no. Tonight’s about you, baby,” he says as his face is close to yours and he kisses the tip of your nose. You nod slightly, feeling yourself blush; and he pushes your shoulder back so you’re fully laying down on your bed. “You want this, right?” Your head nods quickly, enough to make yourself dizzy. “Need words, love.”

“Yes. I want this so bad.” The words come out quickly, eagerly. Harry smirks at your response, and kisses down your stomach towards the hem of your pants.

He fully removes your bottoms, only leaving your panties, and Harry thinks that you’re just a sight. “God, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he says smiling. His words made you blush, shying away from him by turning your head. “Nuh uh, don’t get shy on me now, my love. It’s just me. You’re comfortable with me, right?”

“Of course,” you respond, remembering that he prefers words rather than gestures.

“I’m glad.”

He continues kissing along the hem of your panties, teasing you slightly by dragging his tongue along your skin. The feeling makes you whimper and buck your hips slightly; wanting more than his kisses.

The fast motion of your panties swiftly being removed catches you off guard as you look down and see Harry looking at your bare pussy with hungry eyes. “Look at you. Fuck.” It takes everything in him to not devour you right then and there, but he wanted this moment to last and for you to enjoy yourself. He has been waiting for this moment the first time you walked into his office, and he couldn’t wait to get a taste of you.

“Harry…” you whimper.

“Yes?”

“Please just lick me already.”

Harry kneels on the floor, kissing your inner thighs before taking one long lick up your pussy. The feeling of his tongue makes you moan out loud from the built up tension that you’ve been filled up with since the beginning of the semester.

“Fuck, so good,” he says, going in for another lick, but doesn’t stop this time. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it as well as giving it kitten licks. Your hands fall to his hair as you tug, and your face falls to the side as you try and drown your moans against the mattress.

You continue moaning, but they’re muffled and Harry looks up at you. “No, none of that. Don’t hide away your moans. Wanna hear ya, baby. Let me know I’m licking you up just right--just how you like it,” he says and gets back to eating you out. You give him an ‘okay’ before wailing out in pleasure.

The thought had surprised you as you’ve never been with anyone who made sure you were feeling good and alright. And you absolutely loved it.

Harry’s fingers enter you, pumping and curling and finding your g spot. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Who got you this wet?” He teases.

“You.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You, Mr Styles.” Although you have been calling that more than you called him Harry, his name coming out of your mouth as you’re a moaning mess makes his cock even harder. He stares at you above him with dark eyes and nibbles on the skin of your inner thighs.

“You say you wanna explore? That no one has ever taken the time to make you feel good? Is that right, baby?” He says as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

“Mhm. No one has ever fucked me good enough for me to stay,” you say in an innocent and teasing tone, knowing that Harry will be the exact person that will do that for you.

“How about we have a little fun? With a certain vibrator of yours that you decided not to return? Do ya want that?”

“God, yes please.” Harry kisses your stomach, up to your chest, and then your lips before his fingers slip out and he walks over to unbox the new vibrator. It was a vibrator that you were able to put inside you as it stimulated your clit, and Harry has been dying to use one on you the second you showed it to him for extra credit. You heard the toy turn on as Harry played with the settings.

“Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Harry sets the vibrations to the lowest setting as he starts to tease your clit with it; slowly circling around it as you moan out from the new sensation. “Does that feel good? Do you want more?”

“Please. Give me more,” you say as you palm him over his underwear, but he pushes you away. “Baby, you’re hard. Let me touch you, please,” you plead.

“This is all about you, so be a good girl and just enjoy this,” he says and you close your eyes, waiting for what’s to come. Harry sets the setting a bit higher. The setting is on a medium level, more stimulations to your clit as Harry moves the toy around. “Holy shit, that feels so good,” you throw your head back onto the bed.

“Yeah? Good thing I told you to keep it. You can use this when I’m not here to fuck you, unless I tell you not to touch yourself and have you wait until I stuff myself in your tight pussy.” The dirty talk is driving you wild along with the vibrator. “Gonna put it higher,” he says and doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“Oh my...fuck!” The setting is at its highest along with the part of the toy that is inside you; Harry moving the toy around a bit so it can thrust inside of you. You’re completely thrashing around on the sheets, and Harry has to physically spread your legs apart as you keep trying to close them.

Harry lays beside you, kissing your chest and taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. Your hand naturally finds his hair and pulls on it as you bring his face to yours, and he gives you a solid kiss. You hold him against you as there were no movements of your lips with his; just the touch of your lips together as you try to control your moans.

As you two part, you scream out, “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“C’mon, let go for me, baby. Cum for me,” Harry encourages you.

After a few more thrusts and vibrations to your clit, your orgasm washes over you and hits you hard. Your back arched, and you turned, still feeling the stimulation from the toy.

“There ya go. That’s it,” Harry says as he slowly pulls the toy out and replacing it with his hand, gently cupping over you and feeling your wetness as you come down from your high. Your moans have been controlled, and you started whimpering from how powerful your peak was. “You’re okay. Shh. You’re okay, baby.”

You buried your face into Harry’s neck, and he scratches your back, calming you down. After a moment, you lift your head up and lazily smile at Harry, causing him to giggle a bit and kiss you. The kiss didn’t last long nor was it deepened; it was a sweet and loving kiss, and a thank you to him.

“Was that okay?” He asks.

“That was fucking amazing. Never came like that before,” you tell him honestly.

“Well, I’m glad,” he kisses your lips briefly as he couldn’t get enough of them.

“So…” you trail off.

“So…” he repeats.

“Do I get my extra credit?” You ask in a playful manner, and he laughs loud making your heart flutter over the beautiful sound of his laugh.

“Oh, baby. You get more than extra credit.”

feedback here <3

MASTERLIST

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shakey-hands · 3 years ago

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Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.

#bungo stray dogs #kunikida x reader #bsd kunikida #dazai osamu #jealous kunikida

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ravensbug · 4 years ago

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hi so i can came from another tumblr user and i wanted to ask if maybe you could do a lin x pregnant!reader? i completely understand if you’re not comfortable with that, because the other user wasn’t but i just wanted to ask. thank you!

Little One

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Lin Beifong x Pregnant!reader

Request: Yes

Prompt: No

Word Count: 1277

A/N: Ok, first off I am SO SORRY this took so long. This semester has given me an even bigger workload and then more stuff has started happening that’s just stressing me out. Totally am not trying to recall my mother’s stories about how her pregnancies were with my sister and me. I didn’t really know I needed this version of Lin in my life until now. Don’t know if this exactly what you were looking for, but I hope it is.

Summary: You’re in the last week of your pregnancy and you’re due any day now. Lin has been staying home with you for months, not even going to the station at this point. But of course, the one time she does go, you go to the hospital because of the baby. Thankfully everything goes the way it should and Lin arrives right after.

Lin had gotten Kya to come over to the house so you weren’t left alone. You told Lin that you would have been fine by yourself, but you knew having Kya there wasn’t a bad idea. You were due anytime in these next few days and having someone with you in case something happened is smart. Of course, Lin hadn’t left your side for the past 3 months.

You were surprised that Lin Beifong, the woman who was practically married to her job, hadn’t gone into the precinct in 3 months. It was flattering, but you knew the amount of work she would have to deal with when she got back. Even with Saikhan running things in her absence.

Lin hadn’t told you the reason she had to go out today, or how long she would be gone. You assumed it might be some time since she had Kya come over. However, Lin always wanted someone with you at all times. Like she didn’t say it 20 times a day anyways.

“I really shouldn’t worry about why she’s gone out, but I can’t help it.” You walked around and sat down on the couch carefully. You had grabbed a snack, even though Kya had offered to grab it for you.

“It’s reasonable why you worry, but she’s fine. I’m pretty sure she’s more worried about you than herself at this point.” Kya reassured you.

“Kya, like she’s ever worried about herself? That woman literally gave her bending away to protect the last airbenders and didn’t want an ounce of respect from it.”

“Selflessness. The main definition of your wife,” Kya playfully rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes I love her for it, sometimes I hate her for it,” you sighed.

“At least you don’t have to add being her healer to all of that. I wouldn’t know how you two would be together if you were.”

“I’m very persuasive, Kya,” you smirked. She laughed in response, but she knew it was true. Lin’s told her a few stories while being healed.

You two continued talking and you snacked while Kya talked. It was nice to talk to someone different although you would never get tired while talking with Lin. You would let her go on endless rants about work or things she liked. She would apologize, but you loved it when she would talk about something so passionately, even if she was upset.

Kya was in the middle of explaining something to you when you felt an awkward sensation. It felt like a pop and you didn’t know why it happened. That was until a few seconds after.

“Kya….” you interrupted her.

Kya didn’t need to say anything when she looked and saw the expression on your face. You both knew your water had just broke.

“Right, ok. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“What about Lin? She doesn’t even know. What if she gets home and we’re not here?”

“I’ll make sure that someone finds her. Right now I just need you to worry about yourself and the baby. Not so much the baby, that’s more of my job.”

Lin knows you would scold her for going to the station when you were due any day, but she really couldn’t handle not being there anymore. Even if it was just to check in on things. However, checking in on things soon turned into her actually doing some paperwork.

“Chief, you should really be home with your wife. This paperwork can be done by someone else.” Saikhan was standing in front of her desk as she was working on a simple paper.

“Just this last one and I’ll be out of your way Saikhan,” Lin argued.

“Lin, your wife is due any day. Go home.” He waited for Lin to finish writing whatever sentence she was on and took the paper from her.

“Fine. But you better get that done correctly.” She stood up to leave the precinct. As she grabbed her coat one of the officers open the door with a face full of mixed emotions.

“What is it?” Lin and Saikhan responded at the same time.

“Cheif, your wife,” he had to pause to catch his breath. “She’s gone into labor.”

Most of the senior officers hadn’t seen Lin run out of that building so fast since the last time someone had tried to kidnap you. Even then, some thought Lin was moving even faster now.

Lin had promised herself she wouldn’t go speeding to the hospital if this had happened, but she wanted to so badly. She definitely cursed at the spirits for doing this to her because thoughts of things that could go wrong while she wasn’t with you were running rampant in her mind.

It had taken her almost half an hour to get to the hospital. She also cursed at whoever designed the city that way.

Lin practically barged into the main entrance and everyone looked her way. She wasn’t mad, she would never be mad about this happening, but most assumed that she was since they didn’t know her like you did.

She took a deep breath before asking the desk nurse where you were.

“She’s in room 204.” The nurse pointed down the hall. “Oh, Chief Beifong! They’re fine, just go in quietly.” That information was enough for Lin to put it all together and she smiled.

“Thank you.” She turned and started walking towards the room you were in. She had the widest grin on her face and she felt so giddy and excited.

When she turned the corner and got closer to your room she willed herself to calm her nerves. The nurse had said to be quiet when entering and she had a few guesses as to why.

The door to your room was slightly ajar, enough for Lin to see the edge of the bed as well as your feet under the blankets. She quietly knocked on the door before opening it more.

Kya stood up out of the chair she was sitting in at the sound of Lin knocking. You and she looked over at Lin, who had this wide grin on her face.

“Told you someone would tell her. Didn’t take too long for her to get here.” Kya smiled. She made her way out of the room to give you two privacy.

The baby was currently asleep in your arms so you couldn’t really move. You also didn’t want to move because you were still sore.

“You can come over here and look at her y’know,” you smiled.

“Her?” Lin asked but she didn’t need you to elaborate. Both of you didn’t want to know the gender of the baby because it could get out before it was born and then there would be expectations and press everywhere.

Lin walked over and finally got to see the baby’s face. Her daughter’s face. She was so beautiful and innocent. Lin said she hated little children and even babies, but right now there wasn’t a single bit of hatred. How could she hate anything right now?

“Did you decide on a name? I know you were still looking at a few for a girl,” Lin asked.

“Yeah, I did actually. Kya and I talked a little about it. She’s got plenty of experience helping narrow down names.”

“What did she help you pick?” Lin asked.

“I settled on Keena.” Lin smiled at your answer. That was one of the ones she had liked the most, but she chose to leave the naming to you.

“Perfect,” Lin smiled. “I love you both so much.” Lin gave you a kiss and lightly kissed Keena on the forehead.

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years ago

Text

Met in the Woods

for @dukexietyweek‘s prompt Pirates/Adventure, I focused on Adventure

Summary: Remus didn’t run away, he just went on a wander through the woods. Virgil got kicked out of their home and took to the woods to try and survive. Somehow meeting was the calmest part despite Virgil attacking Remus.

Warnings: vague fighting, eldritch being mentioned, self-esteem issues, homophodia mention

/\/\

Remus hadn't run away. Really he'd barely even left home, despite packing the largest pack they had full of survival supplies and taking off into the woods one morning before anyone else woke up. There was no point in writing a note, not when he'd definitely be coming home, at some point, probably.

The woods had always called to him, filled with mysteries and adventure if only he had the time to explore and find it, and finally Remus was following the call. He already knew where the first glade was to make a camp in, after that he could follow the river some knights mentioned when reporting their patrols.

He wasn't expecting the glade to already have a tent in it, or for said tents owner to have him flat out within seconds of emerging from the treeline.

“Who sent you after me? I'm not going back, whatever crap they've told you!” The person had a staff poised to strike and with all of Remus's weapons currently under him and tied to his pack he wasn't too inclined to make it an actual fight. Besides, not being recognised as one of the sons of the areas Lord? It was basically a dream Remus never expected to happen given the amount of public appearances he was bribed into.

“Nobody sent me, not a clue who you are. Can I stick my tent over here? Heading to the river at this time of night is just asking for a patrol to catch us.” Remus shrugged, rolling to stand up again only to jump back when the staff was swiped at his legs. What was with them trying to lay him out?

A snarl curled their lips and Remus was fascinated. Most people couldn't get quite so vicious an expression, not even an enraged Roman had managed it yet, although he did get complimented on being fearsome when rampaging. “Like I'm going to believe that! They kicked me out and now expect to get me dragged back, begging for forgiveness or some shit?”

“Woah, I've never managed to get kicked out before. How did you manage that and can I try? Sounds like the best release from responsibilities ever!” Remus leant forwards, although still staying out of the staffs range.

“Writing in a journal about liking how men look. Seriously, people will kick you out for the most dull stuff. Thinking there's dangers in too thin ice, and telling people to sharpen weapons with them directed away from you to avoid self stabbing, oh that's fine. Like watching spiders and write stories without even showing them to anybody about how hot the guy next door is, nope get the hell out.” Remus frowned while listening to the rant. Those motives really did sound incomprehensible, but the persons frustrated movements did sometimes cause their top to tighten and show off muscles or make his cloak move like bats wings over their arms.

It was enough that Remus was moving forwards, bending to catch the staff as it was swung, holding it still. “Seriously? The Lord's of this land are 2 men together. We've got non-binary folks as tax collectors and both of the Lord's sons are attracted more to masculine physics than feminine and your family kicked you out for that?”

“Explains why they do everything possible to keep us kids stuck to the farm, then.” The mumble was clearly not directed at Remus but he shrugged and nodded until they looked back at him. “So if you aren't someone sent to drag me home what the hell are you doing out here?”

“I'm Remus, and just felt like a wander. Male too by the way. Who are you? I've already gathered that you're here cause you got kicked out so won't ask why.” He answered cheerfully. Whomever this person was, they'd been more interesting than most people Remus encountered.

The suspicious glare that had been fading was back a full force. “Virgil. Human, and who the hell just decides to go wandering with a full pack including a tent?”

“I do. Wanted to escape for a while, and now I'm gonna stick with you too.” Remus decided, shrugging off his pack to start setting his own tent up. “All the better if someone actually does come after you, right?”

/VR\

Virgil didn't trust this guy. Who the hell just attaches themselves to a stranger they meet in the woods? There had to be something going on here, or the guy had to be freaking insane and liable to attack in a moment of rage.

“I'm going into that cave! Are you coming?” Remus cheered, pointing further along the river.

There at least was a cave this time, a large excavation into the cliff face that was on the other side of the river. The last 'cave' Remus had tried to explore had just be a darker type of rock that the mad guy had run head first into before realising.

“It's a cave on the edge of a river. You're going to slip on the rocks and kill yourself, or get attacked by a bear taking shelter in it.” Virgil ground out, but carried on following behind Remus getting closer to the cave with each step. “I'm not willing to die for a maniac who won't leave my side.”

Remus just shot a grin over his shoulder as he finally started wading through the water. “Then why are you still following me? Besides it'd be awesome to battle a bear. Maybe I could get some brilliant scars!”

“It's called self preservation, something you seem to have abandoned already. I'm more likely to survive if I have an idiot who runs into danger when predators decide human smells like a good dinner.” Virgil snarked back, pausing to take off their shoes and roll their trousers up before entering the water. They weren't going to have wet feet for hours, no matter how willing Remus was to get his shoes drenched.

They still weren't happy about entering the cave when hours later they were trudging back out a completely different entrance lugging a chest in addition to their packs. “I told you going in there was dangerous!”

“You didn't get hurt, did you? Only blood on either of us is from that, that, actually what the hell was that? We need to go home just so I can get that thing drawn, painted, memorialised for eternity on the walls and given some kind of name.” Remus was twisting to look back at the cave even as he kept moving, holding the other end of the chest.

“Can we figure out what we're doing with whatever the hell is in here? It's heavy and neither of us are going to be ready to fight with a massive chest carried between us.” Virgil dropped their end, effectively bring them to a stop and threw themself on the ground for a rest.

There was still daylight so they weren't worried about a threat approaching unseen and really needed to stop after the fight they'd just gone through. Any creature with that many limbs should be somewhere out at sea, not in caves nowhere near the shore.

“You take it. You're the one who got kicked out from home and nobody would leave something worthless in a cave like that. Bet you could get a house almost as good as the Lord's manor with the treasure in here.” Remus decided, having sat on the ground nearby for only a second before he was rooting through the pack from his back. “Snacks, pen, ink and paper. You eat something. I gotta start planning out my paintings.”

Virgil was already shaking their head, backing away from the chest as though it would be forced onto them. “No no no no. I'm not taking all of whatever's in there. We got it together. You should get some of it. How about half each? Or you get 3 quarters and I get the rest since I would literally have been killed when that thing first came out?”

“And here I thought I was just a chance for you to escape when I jumped forwards. You were fighting there too. I guess we could go half each.” Remus sighed as though accepting any of it was a hardship rather than treasure won. “Only if you come home with me. Let me introduce my family to the greatest reluctant best friend ever!”

They gaped at that declaration. If anything Virgil would just call them and Remus acquaintances. Sticking together in the middle of woods when no other people has been seen for days could easily turn to barely acknowledging each other once back in town. “If that's what it takes for you to take the treasure that's rightfully yours then fine I guess.” They agreed, already moving stuff about in their pack to find the empty bags they'd managed to grab when hurrying to leave their old home. At the time they'd expected the bags to be for any belongings or tools they could make and acquire while alone in the woods but the contents of a random chest was what they'd need to hold now.

Virgil left Remus to carry on drawing while attempting and after about 20 different tries, managing to unlock and open the chest. They sat separating the treasure by types and into 2 piles of each, kept as even as possible. With the sky clear and dusk not due for a while, it was a relaxing enough break after the cave systems.

/VR\

Looking up at the manor that Remus had just started leading them up to declaring 'Home!' had Virgil reconsidering everything they knew of the place they grew up in.

That was the Lord's manor and for Remus to live here he had to be... nope, NOPE! Virgil had definitely not just accidentally run into one of the sons of the Lord that ruled over his town. Remus must actually just be like, one of the servants, or maybe a gardener? Places like this had gardeners and knights right? Remus must be something like that and had taken some time off too....

All of their rationalisations to prevent panicking about having attacked and then travelled with a Lord's son proved futile when as soon as Remus opened the doors servants were swarming him, asking where the young sir had been, did he have any injuries, and anything else they'd only do for... The son of the Lord's also hurrying through the hall to greet him.

“I went on an adventure!” Remus proclaimed, waving off the servants and turning to look for Virgil who had fully started panicking and wondering if he could turn and run now. “And I made a friend too. That's Virgil and he's brilliant!”

A servant was immediately coming over, offering to take his bag while the Lord's looked him over curiously, listening to Remus who was still talking utter nonsense; a fairytale of a Virgil that they couldn't fathom how Remus thought was them.

“Well anyone who has Remus as besotted as this is more than welcome to remain with us as long as you care to, Virgil. Are there any titles that you hold?” The Lord asked, smiling at them now and holding a hand up to pause Remus's ramblings.

“No, My Lord. I am estranged from my family currently and would not be in line for any titles even if that weren't the case.” They couldn't come out with a rant about being kicked out in front of a Lord, but to deny that they were probably the lowest of his lands would only lead to worse things later.

The Lord just nodded but Remus glowered. “They've got money though. Helped me fight a beast in a cave and we found this massive chest of treasure that can get him a home and stuff now. Seriously, even while claiming they wouldn't risk death for me they followed me into the cave and fought just as much as I did when this brilliant creature attacked. Someone get my paints set up in the gallery across from my room. I know what's going on the far wall now!”

“Money wasn't our concern, Son. I'll check if there's any titles we can bestow on them for bringing you home safely.” The other Lord spoke up now and Virgil was really wishing their parents had at least mentioned the names of the nobility that ruled over them. Maybe they could ask one of the servants soon, since Remus was likely to forget about them now he was back home and around his family.

It definitely seemed possible since with the comment about finding them a title the Lords were heading to other rooms in the hall and Remus was racing down a different corridor while a few servants came to direct Virgil to somewhere else. They just let themself be led through getting measured for new clothes and settled into rooms that had at some point been requested for them. They could at least work on getting a home here before the hospitality of the Lord's ran out preferably.

/RV\

7 days had passed and Remus was confused. Each morning he'd asked Virgil to come and help him paint, or join him in the science lessons he'd insisted on getting. Each time they'd nod and come along but disappear somewhere on route to where he wanted to go.

His best friend kept hiding from him and it didn't feel like a game or even like something they wanted to do if the wary glances each meal were anything to go by. It was like Virgil was expecting him to tell him to leave, gained some hope whenever Remus asked for them to do something together but gave it up seconds later as a lie. Remus wouldn't lie, especially not over wanting someone's company. He just wanted Virgil to be around him.

Today he was going to put a stop to it. He still chattered through breakfast, arguing with Roman over painting styles and trying to get Virgil to agree with him but he didn't move to get up or say anything after his meal was finished. He just sat, waiting for Virgil to finish eating and hoping he hadn't been cutting their meal short with the invitations.

“Do you not want to be my friend?” Remus blurted once they were the only ones still at the table, making Virgil startle.

“What, of course I, no, I do, definitely do but you, I mean, I thought you wouldn't. I'm just a nobody and you have all these exciting things that's you basically bounce in your seat when you talk about.” Virgil tripped over their words, clearly concerned over Remus's question but not sure how to answer it.

Remus just watched them try to reply, concerned but making himself be calm, still. “Then why do you keep disappearing when I want to share them with you? Sharing them would make any activities like a million times better! Hell just arguing with Roman is way more fun when I've got you beside me.”

“But I'm nothing!” Virgil exclaimed, pushing down on the table. “Why would you want anything to do with me except because of pity?”

“Yeah, definitely, I pitied a guy attacking me with a staff and stuck with him because I thought he needed some charity.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you are more than any scoundrel I could find walking into town just because you don't give a shit who we are, if you think something's dangerous or harmful you're gonna yell about it.”

“And you don't give a damn and do it anyway, claiming there's nothing dangerous that could harm you!” Their response was a glare that just made Remus grin.

He'd missed being told off while Virgil was constantly hiding themself away. “Still take more care than I would without the reminder. Besides I love that, always needed someone to give reasons for why they're upset and you just give them.”

“Love? Besotted? Why is everyone talking like we should be courting now? I don't even have somewhere to live. Get them to stop playing with my heart like that.” Virgil moaned, apparently focused on a word Remus had barely realised he'd spoken. Watching them lean on the desk it was clear there had been more said by the servants too in the last week.

He shrugged leaning back in his seat. “They aren't. If you'd actually let me find you or come to help with my painting this week you might have realised that I am very likely to fall in love with you.” He held back from saying it had already happened while coming back from the cave. It seemed like it would be too much for them, no matter that the painting in his gallery had basically made Virgil his universe, cradled and treasured by the creature they'd battled rather than fighting it.

Lost eyes looked over to him as they processed the words. “So we can be together together? I'm not – not going to get kicked out again for liking you too much?”

“Nope, I mean I made sure our rooms are next to each other deliberately so we could go through the courting without being too far apart.” Remus pointed out. “On that thought, can I actually give you your courting gifts now? I keep trying to but you disappear before I've got them out.”

Virgil nodded mutely for a second, watching him, before leaning forwards for a kiss, barely more than a peck before they were pushing away trying to get more distance between them. “Sorry, should've asked, but um, yes, courting, we can do that!”

“You don't have to ask if you want to kiss me, but if it makes you feel better we can do constantly asking.” Remus couldn't hold back his grin, and knew it was the one servants backed away, concerned over what his manic joy would cause today.

Courting first, and convincing Virgil they were far more than their mind said over time.

#dukexiety #dukexietyweek2021 #remus sanders #virgil sanders #noble remus #non-binary virgil #cw self-esteem issues #cw homophobia mention

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cherriesfineline · 4 years ago

Text

MEET HALFWAY OUR NEEDS - one shot

a/n: hi! this is my first time ever posting one of my writings online (I'm about to shit myself but oh well). I literally wrote this so fast I'm impressed, but anyways I (kind of) proof read this -not really- just quickly read through it after I finished it. English isn't my first language (I'm so self conscious I'm probably gonna say that every time I post something) but besides that, I really hope you enjoy this <3 feedback is truly appreciated, it helps me improve!

-Joey

Pairing: Harry x Y/N

Warnings: detailed sexual content

Word count: 9.2k (of mostly smut??? sorry)

the one where Harry wants to get married but Y/N doesn't.

As you grow older, you start realizing life isn't as easy as it seemed when you were a kid. Not everyone gets lucky enough to have a job they're passionate about. Not everyone can satisfy all their necessities. In fact, you realize it's most people instead of "not everyone". Friendships and relationships won't last you a lifetime (those promises of being there for each other forever now seem like genuine naiveness) if you don't put enough effort in them. When you are young you believe that being able to play for hours straight without getting bored is what true friendship is about. And maybe it is, during those years. Adult relationships require a lot of time, and effort. And sometimes, sacrifice. Conversations have a different weight, and being able to trust someone with your most uneasy thoughts and experiences is hard. To find and to keep. When it comes to love, you start realizing that the thrill and intensity of teen romance isn't what true love is about. It's not about getting into fights, hardcore jealousy and toxicity behaviors. It's about being able to just be there, with that someone. Being able to coexist in each other's worlds, share what you're passionate about without any fear or remorse, being able to communicate. To ask for help when needed. Now, that doesn't mean things can't get complicated. For the past two months, Y/N and Harry's relationship has been balancing on a very, extremely, thin line. After six years of being together, and three of those living together, being the happiest they've ever been, everything started to look different for Harry. He was ready to take a step Y/N wasn't. Harry always knew he wanted to get married, have kids, move to a pretty house outside New York (it's been his favorite city ever since he visited when he was 12, then moving all the way across the globe from Manchester to attend Columbia University). And when he met Y/N, he knew she was the one he wanted all that with. But Y/N... she wasn't so sure that was the life she wanted. Having kids was a no at least until she was in her 30's. And even then, she knew she'd have to re consider if that's what she really wanted. She loves kids, she has a couple nieces a nephew's (coming from a big family has it's perks) and she's a preschool teacher. She's good with kids, but she wasn't so sure she'd be a great mother. Not for a specific reason, but she really feels like that's the case. Taking care of someone else's kids versus your own is extremely different. Now... it gets even more complicated when it comes to marriage. She doesn't believe that a piece of paper kept in a legal's office will make any changes in their relationship. It will all stay the same, married or not, so she just doesn't think it's important, nor worth the money. Harry, on the other hand, thinks marrying her will change everything in his life. For the better. He loves her more than he'll ever be able to put into words. And because he can't put it into words, he feels like it's the actions, small and big, that help him communicate his love a bit better. He still remembers the moment he mentioned marriage to her (not for the first time, but definitely the first time he actually thought 'ok i really want to marry her right now') like it happened yesterday. He remembers exactly what it felt like to physically feel his heart shatter inside his chest, and the way he silently cried himself to sleep that night with Y/N in his arms. "Would you ever, uh... consider g-getting married? like, I don't know, if we ever have, like, an actual conversation about it, would you consider it?" He asked her in the middle of their Lord of the Rings marathon. Harry could feel her intense staring at the side of his face. She was quiet for so long, it killed him. He truly wanted the cushions of their pink couch to just suck him inside the furniture piece. He wouldn't dare to turn his face. He couldn't look at her, no. Not to face the rejection of his lifetime. "Uh, I don't think so." She said, and Harry only nodded, thinking the conversation was over

once he felt her move her head to face the television again. "You know how I feel about you and how I feel about marriage. I honestly think it's useless. You don't need a signed paper to know how much I love you, Harry." Her tone was soft, but the words that left her mouth felt like a million knives inside his chest. That conversation sent him spiraling over a thousand thoughts, overthinking their entire relationship and how he now felt like they were getting nowhere with it. He respected her decision, though. That's why he didn't bring it up again. Y/N sensed his mood change that same night. She kept her mouth shut, because she truly didn't know what to say. She didn't understand where he was coming from, or why it was so important to him. At first, she didn't think his mood was affected because of her not wanting to get married, maybe he had something else going on and was struggling to talk about it, but after many sessions with her therapist going over and over their conversations and trying to decipher why everything was so weird between them, she came to the conclusion it might have to do with them not getting married. She just didn't want it. And she didn't know how to make him understand. But she couldn't lose him either. He was her everything. It took her months to be able to sit next to him like she did the night he was watching The Little Mermaid in the living room of their small New York apartment. It's been months since they last shared a movie night, or a date. They've been eating dinner while having awkward small talk about their jobs and friends, going straight to bed after cleaning everything up, each to their side. They haven't touched each other except the occasional greeting peck ever since that night. And it was killing both of them, but neither knew how to approach the other. As she sat down to his right, she saw him tense immediately. It broke her, to see him so on guard around her. Y/N couldn't look away from him, with her body facing him and her head rested on the back of the couch, she wanted to grab his hand so badly, but she didn't know if he'd reject her. The doorbell rang, and he looked at her for the first time that night. His eyebrows had the cutest frown and she wanted to kiss his forehead to make him relax, but of course, she didn't. She sent him a shy smile and stood up, going straight to the door and picking up the cash she left prepared on the little table next to it. She could feel his stare burning holes in her back, which sent chills down her spine. "Thank you so much." Harry heard Y/N say, immediately hearing the door shut. From where he was sitting he didn't have a clear view on who was on the other side of the door. Y/N made her way to their kitchen (to do God knows what, Harry thought) only to appear seconds after with two tubes of ice cream (from his favorite place) and two big spoons. She sat back down next to him with her legs under her, a little closer than moments ago but still out of Harry's reach. She handed him one of the tubes, and Harry immediately noticed it was chocolate chip mint, his favorite, he might add. He looked up at her, who gave him a small shrug of her shoulders and a side smile, and he couldn't help but smile widely at her, his deep dimples on full display. God, I missed those dimples so bad. Y/N thought. But what she didn't know is that Harry was thinking about how much he missed her. Entirely. He hated himself for overthinking every small detail, and for thinking so lowly of their future. But he couldn't help it. "Thanks." He shyly took the ice cream and started eating right away. Not five minutes later, he grabbed her by her thigh and dragged her next to him, only to have her close to his body. And because he missed her. And her body heat. And her addictive smell of clean soap and vanilla. And a lot of other things which would take a lifetime to enumerate. She looked at him from her new spot, and due to the proximity, she had to shift her head slightly up to look at his face. She slid her right arm around his left,

carefully looking at him to see any kind of reaction that might show discomfort, and when she noticed his smirk slowly and barely making an appearance, she relaxed next to him, fitting half of her body under his arm, with his elbow resting on her stomach and her head on his upper arm. Half way through the movie, with their ice cream tubes forgotten on their coffee table, Y/N looked back up to him, and even though she's been doing it every two minutes, Harry knew she wanted to say something this time. He doesn't look at her, though, thinking it might shy her away, but right when he was trying to concentrate back on the film, he heard her say something. It was barely audible, almost like she didn't want him to hear it. Did he imagine it? Maybe he's so deprived from her and her touch and her words that he's finally going insane. Harry looked at her this time, and looking straight at her grey eyes so closely for the first time in two months felt like a thousand fireworks exploding violently on his stomach. "Did you say something?" He looked at her confused, and the look on her eyes is so hard to decipher he thinks she definitely said something she's scared to repeat. "I miss you." Y/N repeated herself, barely louder. But then he knew for sure he didn't imagine it. His Y/N missed him. For so long Harry thought he was losing her, that after distancing himself from her she finally realized she not only didn't want marriage, but a relationship with him at all. But she missed him. And he missed her. "You miss me?" He asked, almost like he didn't believe her, his tone was low and his voice sounded deeper that ever. Y/N nodded, but she felt pathetic. She felt like he didn't miss her like she missed him, maybe he didn't miss her at all. For two months she's been feeling like he wanted out, that this relationship felt like an obligation to him. Harry felt her slowly sliding away from his arms, and that's when he realized he's been so stuck in his head he still hadn't replied. "Don't," he quickly grabbed her by her thigh with his hand closest to her body "please, don't go." She stayed still in her place, looking at him with soft but sad eyes. "I miss you so much, Y/N." Harry turned on his spot so he's facing her, and softly cupped her jaw with his free hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "You have no idea." He whispered, slowly getting her face close to his while closing his eyes. He kissed her forehead so lovingly she literally burst into tears. Y/N's soft sobs alarmed Harry, lifting her head up by his hold on her jaw. "Please, don't cry baby. It breaks me when you cry." Y/N shifted on her place so she was with her body facing the back of the couch, her knees pressed against it, but she tilted her body to the side so she could hug Harry. She slowly draped her arms around his torso, resting her head on his chest. A sigh of relief left Harry's lips, resting his chin on top of her head while he hugged her back. One of his arms was resting low on her back, while the other one rested on her shoulder, his giant hand cupping her head to softly caress her hair. They stayed in that position for a long time. Y/N could feel Harry's heartbeat, and how it slowly picked up speed when she pressed her lips to his chest. And even though he was wearing a shirt, Harry could feel the heat of her lips through it. He pressed his own lips on top of her head, leaving them there for a while, almost like a very long, still kiss, until he felt her head shift underneath his lips. He pulled away just barely to allow her to look up at him, and when she noticed him quickly looking down to her lips, she stretched her neck up to press their lips together. It was a short, very sweet kiss. With fear as an undertaste and nervousness written all over her. She was just scared he was going to leave. When she pulled away from him, she didn't have time to open her eyes as she felt Harry press their lips together again. This second kiss was almost the same as the first one, insecure. It's funny, if you think about it. How similar their

feelings were and how scared they were of messing everything up with a single wrong move. Once Harry pulled away from the kiss he initiated, they locked eyes, yet again. But this time, it was written all over their faces how badly they missed each other, and how much they dreaded to feel the effects each had on one another after so long. The third kiss they shared, it's initiated from both sides, almost as they were able to read each other's minds. Their lips moved in sync, and as Harry softly captured Y/N's bottom lip between his own to slightly suck on it, she put more pressure into it. The kiss slowly started to gain force, passion and need. But she was scared to take the next step. She wanted him to take the full lead, as opposed to what they were used to, just because she didn't want him to feel like he owed her anything. And then, he did take that step. The hand he had holding her jaw moved under her hair to grab her by the neck, while slowly tracing her bottom lip with his tongue, asking for access to her mouth. And once she allowed their tongues to meet, his hold on her lower back got stronger, draping his arm completely around her waist to pull her closer. That action made Y/N's body lift up from how strong he was holding her, and she took this as a sign to move. She straddled him on the couch, sinking (almost on slow motion) to sit on top of his thighs. Harry groaned in frustration. She's too far away, he thought. "Closer." He said in a pleading tone, and Y/N complied immediately. She slid her body up his thighs, and he forced her chest to collide with his. The hand that was holding her neck slowly traced her entire spine, to join his other one on her lower back. Her tongue felt so warm and soft, so inviting. He had always loved the way she kissed him, with so much passion but with a gentleness that was so her. She managed to fully relax in his hold once her hands found their way to his hair, right behind his ears, and he couldn't help but whimper at the feeling of their groins pressing together. This sparked a burning fire inside both of them. A fire that burned so good they'd rather die caught on it, than to never feel it again. Harry slowly slid his hands up and down her sides, all the way from her outer thighs to her side boobs. And when he did it for the second time, on his way up he slid his hands under her shirt instead of continuing their path over it. When his hands stopped at the higher part of their path, he caressed her side boobs with his thumbs, doing the same afterwards right below them, and when she finally grinded down on him, letting a deep groan leave her lips, he cupped her breasts with his hands. But when she pulled away, he dropped his hands automatically.He started eating his brains out thinking he really messed up, he was taking things down a road she didn't want to take yet, which was okay, it's not like he only wanted her body back, but he was scared he made her uncomfortable. Only then, his dick grew incredibly hard when she grabbed the hem of her oversized t-shirt to pull it up and off her body. Her perfectly perky boobs bounced slightly when Y/N dropped her shirt on the floor, resting her arms on her sides. He looked up from the lovely sight of her boobs thinking about how badly he wanted to devour them, only to find her with an uncertain look on her face. And he hated it. He hated the thought of her doubting herself so much. Harry ran his hands up and down her soft stomach, and then slid them up, softly but barely touching her boobs. His destination was somewhere else (for now), and he grabbed Y/N by her neck to pull her close. Their lips met again in the softest kiss they shared that night so far, and Y/N melted in Harry's arms like the forgotten ice cream behind her. He kissed the corner of her lips as he pulled her hair slightly so he could start kissing her jawline, down to her neck, leaving pepper kisses all over her skin. When he reached her collarbone he started sucking and biting (she loved when he bit her) knowing he couldn't do it to her neck

due to her job. She let a moan leave her lips, and when Harry slid one of his hands to grab her by her hip, she grinded down on him again, with more confidence this time. Harry lowered his face a bit more so he could finally reach one of his favorite features of his Y/N, her boobs. He took her left breast in his mouth, sucking on Y/N's nipple, making her whimper and jerk forward, tightening her hold on his brown locks to pull him even closer. He slid the hand that was holding Y/N's hair down so he could pay attention to both nipples at the same time, while using his hand on her hip to keep a steady peace to her grinding. Once she caught up with the slow but rough peace he wanted, he let go of Y/N's hip to grab the nipple he had in his mouth with in his hand, and he pinched both of them at the same time, rolling the hard buds on his fingers, then moving his mouth to the other one. He spent a lot of time paying attention to Y/N's nipples, nibbling, sucking, groping, knowing damn well they were extremely sensitive (she could orgasm just by nipple stimulation if done correctly, but she really wanted him right now). Y/N pulled from his hair enough to let him know she wanted something else, and when he let her nipple fall from his mouth, he looked straight into her eyes. Harry's cheeks were tinted a pretty shade of pink, and Y/N couldn't help but admire the beautiful man under her. He looked at her with such pure eyes, but lustful at the same time. She didn't understand how he could look so innocent but so fucking hot at the same time, it was unfair how angelic he was. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, to let him know she wanted it off. Once Harry complied, throwing his shirt somewhere near Y/N's, he immediately reached for her cream silk shorts, tugging the elastic band down as a silent plea for her to get out of them for him. She stood up from the couch, knowing Harry loved when she undressed herself for him, and still in between his legs holding eye contact, she slowly slid her shorts down her thighs along with her underwear. Harry couldn't keep eye contact for long, though. His eyes were glued to her glistening core that was slowly making an appearance, and he was getting frustrated at how slow she was being. He sat straighter on the couch so he could reach for her, and slid his hands down the front of her thighs, and on their way up he slowly slid them to their insides, getting close to where she wanted him. He slid one of his hands down again, but this time he grabbed her right leg from behind her knee, to pull it up. He made her rest her feet outside his thigh, which was now in between her legs. In this new position he got a clear view of her pretty pussy, all on display for him. "So wet, baby." He whispered, and she couldn't help but return her hold on his hair to pull him closer to her. "All for me?" Harry asked her, looking up to stare at her right in the eyes. When she nodded, he hummed in response. "Let me take care of you, it's been so long. You probably need it so much, don't you?" His voice was so fucking deep and raspy she nodded desperately in response. Y/N couldn't handle much teasing, and she let Harry know by tightening her grip yet again, and forcing his face to be so close she could feel his breathing on her. "Please, Harry." She pleaded. Harry loved teasing her, but he knew it's been a long time, he didn't want to frustrate her much. He finally licked very slowly up her folds, all the way from her opening to her clit, humming when he reached her sensitive bundle of nerves. Y/N let out a long sigh of pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut. She felt like she could literally come just by that, and when he closed his lips around her clit, she grind her hips against his lips. He started switching between sucking and pressing his tongue on her clit until he started to move it, creating undefined figures with the tip of his tongue. They missed each other so much, so so much. And they both knew sex wouldn't magically fix everything. They knew they needed to work things out. But

sometimes conversation needs a little push, something to remind them why they need to fix things. The magnetic pull they felt towards each other was unbearably strong. They needed each other, in every imaginable way, but at that moment, they needed each other's bodies and emotion, no words needed. Just feel each other close. Harry gave her clit a sweet kiss, and looked up at her while his fingers traveled up and down her folds, until they found their home in her opening. He searched her eyes for approval, and when she whispered a soft 'please' he slowly sank his ring and middle finger, knuckle deep. She whimpered loud at the sudden pressure, and he groaned at the tightness of her hole. He rested his forehead on her navel for a second to let her adjust, and when he felt her grind on his fingers, he held her gaze while lining his mouth with her clit yet again. Harry started to work his fingers in and out of her, sucking on her clit. But what turned him on the most was her slow grinding on his face and fingers, like she was fucking his fingers nstead of his fingers fucking her. Harry used his free arm to slide it under her leg that was up on the couch, and grabbed her ass with a tight grip to pull her even closer. The pleasure was beginning to feel overwhelming, the pressure deep down on her belly begging for release was making her desperate. Y/N's moans and breathy sighs were becoming louder and consistent and the way he could feel her legs slightly shaking gave away how close she was to her release. Harry wanted her to make a mess on his face, so badly. He lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue, not before he moved his fingers one last time to massage her spongy spot at the front of her insides. He fucked her with his tongue as he used his soaked fingers to stimulate her clit, circling in the fast and rough peace he knew she enjoyed so much. Her insides felt like a rocket about to launch, between his moans sending vibrations through her entire body and his fingers stimulating her clit the way she exactly needed, she became a moaning mess. Y/N couldn't comprehend how she was still standing up, even though Harry's arm under her thigh was holding most of her weight up, her knees were about to give up soon. "H-Harry, I'm so close," Y/N spoke as clearly as possible, knowing her panting was messing with her words, "please don't stop." He admired the way her jaw tightened and relaxed, her mouth opening shortly after, making a perfect 'o' with her eyes pressed shut. With one specific movement of Harry's tongue, she finally let go. With her eyes rolling back she let a couple of continuous 'fuck's quickly leave her mouth. Her entire body jolted forwards, bending a bit over him while his mouth was still attached to her core, helping her ride her orgasm, making it last for as long as possible. Y/N pulled Harry away from her with her grip on his hair once it became too much, and looked down at him. Without a second thought she bent down to lock her lips on his, with so much force it threw him back into his original seated position on the couch. "Take your pants off, now." She demanded, but adding an almost inaudible 'please', mostly for her. He happily obliged, taking his boxers down with them, imitating her previous actions. His cock sprung free, and he hissed at the feeling of freedom. Harry was so focused on her he didn't realize how painfully hard he was. He could feel his own heartbeat thundering in his chest with so much force it was almost alarming. He needed her so, so badly. Once his pants and boxers were thrown and forgotten on the floor, she straddled him. Giving him a quick but soft kiss on the lips, she began making her way down his neck, reaching back up again to (what she knew) was his most sensitive spot behind his ear. Y/N sucked a small bruise, and he whimpered. God, Y/N loved those small noises he made. She kissed her favorite beauty mark on the right side where his neck meets his shoulder, and that small action alone made his heart feel like someone was squeezing and

twisting it. He missed those small loving details from her. Y/N kept making her way down his chest, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all over him, not forgetting to suck and nibble at his nipples. She loved taking care of him. All of him. And the way he enjoyed her playing with his nipples was something he was always scared of admitting, but he knew he didn't have to ask her to do it, because she just knew. She sunk down to her knees, still sucking and licking the skin all over his stomach while caressing his thighs (Oh, those thighs). Y/N finally grabbed his dick and slowly stroked him all the way from his base to the tip, collecting some of the precum leaking from his deep pink, swollen head. He groaned loudly, lifting his hips to fuck her fist once. She took that as a sign to lower her head even more, his cock now in front of her face. "Want my mouth, baby?" She tapped her plump lips with his tip, and when he looked down at her, she moved her closed lips around him, almost like she was using his precum as lipgloss, her hand still slowly moving up and down his length. She got him hypnotized. "Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Y-yes, please." He heavily sighed. His begging made her drip down her thighs, he knew how much she loved it, and she knew he loved begging too, maybe even more than her. She always took such good care of him. She swirled her tongue around his tip once, then proceeded to lick up his shaft a couple of times like his dick was an ice lolly. Once she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, he sighed in relief, and relaxed his shoulders. Harry's hands grabbed her neck to pull her head down, and she surprised him when she suddenly deep throated him before even working her way there. "Fucking hell, Y/N." He moaned when he felt her humming around him. Harry grabbed her hair making a shift ponytail, to help her get her hair out of the way, and using his grip on it to lift her head, her mouth left his dick, and he smirked at the small pout on her lips. "You are so perfect." She ignored him and tried to lean forward again, which made him smile at how desperate she was. He let her get what she wanted, allowing her lips to wrap around his tip again. She licked up his slit and swirled her tongue around him, and hollowed her cheeks to suck on his tip. She took more of him in her mouth, using her right hand to work on his base and her left to gently cup his balls and play with them. Harry knew he wouldn't last long. It's been a while since they've done anything remotely sexual, and his hand... his hand wasn't her. So even though he could get himself off, nothing in the world would compare to how it felt when it was his Y/N pleasing him. His breathing became irregular as she bobbed her head up and down his length in a steady rhythm, and when she tugged on his balls he knew he had to pull her away right that second, or he would come. And he really wanted to, but not like this. "Baby, please," he tried to pull her head away with a tug on her ponytail, but she didn't oblige. Instead, she looked up at him through her eyelashes, still bobbing her head up and down on him, and that sight alone could make him come in a heartbeat. But he kept it together. "I wanna come inside you, p-please." And that made Y/N pull away, her mouth making a 'pop' sound when she let his dick fall from her lips. She then straddled him, her hands finding their home right behind his ears, grabbing him by his hair, while his made their way around her body, hugging her close. His dick fit perfectly between her lips, and Y/N grinded on him to feel his wet cock slide through her folds, creating the most delicious friction. Harry kissed her passionately, trying to pour everything he felt in the kiss. And Y/N did feel it, because she was trying to do the same. They repeated the action a couple of times until she reached in between them to grab a hold of him, positioning him on her opening. And when she finally sank down on him, they locked gazes. They sat still, connected. They were so close. They felt so close. Harry

nudged her nose with his, softly brushing their lips together. He then noticed a single tear run down her cheek, and reached for her face quickly. Right before it got in her mouth he caught it with his thumb, and she leaned in his touch. They didn't say a word. Just sat still. With Harry caressing her cheek, and Y/N looking straight into his eyes. Y/N leaned forward to capture his top lip between hers, leaving the sweetest kiss, repeating the action with his bottom lip. After, she went for the right corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jawline, his pulse point, behind his ear. And repeated the exact same trail on the left side of his face, finishing with his top and bottom lips, one last time before starting to slowly grind and circle her hips on him. Harry just couldn't stop staring at her. The amount of love and adoration he held in his heart for that woman was beyond words, and actions. And he then understood. He understood that he could live a life without marriage if it meant living it with her. He could handle it. He would get over it. He involuntarily dropped his head back and shut his eyes with so much force, while hissing through gritted teeth when she finally lifted her weight on her knees, sliding up on his dick until he was almost entirely out, only to sink back down roughly, going so deep it made both of them moan loudly at how tight she was. She slid one of her hands around his neck to grab him by his chin, forcing him to look at her. Y/N kissed him again, and this time their kiss was messy and desperate, between crashing teeth and loud moans due to her fucking him with all she got. She let go of Harry's mouth to sit straighter, using his shoulders as support to move faster. This position gave Harry a view he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He could see his cock, so drenched of her arousal, and her pussy taking him so well. The wet sounds leaving their connected centers were magical, so erotic, accompanied with the small whimpers and moans coming out of her perfect lips. Harry thought she looked like a fucking goddess, with her round and perky tits bouncing up and down every time her tight pussy took him entirely. "You're being so good, baby. Letting me fuck you just how I like it." She whispered to him, staring at his heart shaped, swollen lips. The lips she was so addicted to. "You take such good care of me, angel. Always." He replied, looking into her eyes which were still glued to his lips. She licked her own, and moved forward to crash them against his on another messy kiss. They both were so close. Harry couldn't understand how he managed to hold his release for so long, but he was proud of himself. Y/N separated their lips for a moment to make him suck her point and middle finger, which he complied immediately, knowing exactly what she was doing. He then watched her lower her hand between their bodies again, but this time to reach for her clit, where she started to gently rub circles, stimulating herself. Harry started thrusting up with force, to meet her halfway, tightening his grip around her middle. Y/N bit down his shoulder to stifle a loud moan, which only made Harry thrust faster. "Please come for me, Y/N, I wanna feel you come all- all around my cock." He managed to plead between breathy whimpers. And it only took a few more thrusts from him to make her insides explode in the most blissful sensation, like electricity running all the way from her belly to her toes. She stiffens in his hold, her inside walls tightening and clenching so hard it almost sends him out of her, making his balls tighten right before he lets go. She could feel him emptying inside her, his spurts of cum filling her up, leaving both of them exhausted, satisfied and utterly fucked. None of them moved for a while. Y/N's breathing calmed him, almost like a lullaby, and the way Harry was gently stroking her back made goosebumps erupt all over her body. Without any warning, Harry stood up, making Y/N wrap her legs around him, she hissed through the feeling of his dick moving while still

inside her, and she bit down his shoulder again. She didn't question what he was doing, she didn't care. Harry sat her down on a cold surface after turning the lights on, and when she opened her eyes she realized he sat her in their bathroom counter. He put some space between them so he could finally look at her again. The fact that they barely spoke during sex today (when they were usually pretty vocal) made everything so... different. Not in a bad way, though. It made them both enjoy sex as the pure performance of just loving someone. No need of crazy positions, weird kinks or edging each other the way they're used to. Just love. The need to feel connected. The need of physically demonstrating each other's love. How they are each other's entire world. "I'm gonna clean us up, okay?" Harry told her softly, and she only nodded in response. She leaned in to give him a soft kiss, which honestly caught Harry off guard now that the sexual act was over. But made him happy nonetheless. She was scared of him shutting her out again. But he was scared of her getting tired of him. He knew she was a free soul. She wanted so many things, and settling down to start a family like he wanted to wasn't in her near plans, maybe in her plans at all. And he knew that. He understood it, and he respected it. He just thought about how badly he truly wanted that life with her. He was just scared she would let him go. They both looked down and hissed the moment he slid out of her. Harry had the perfect view of their mixed cum dripping down her core, making a mess on the marble counter under her. And Y/N saw his dick twitch at the sight, but decided against commenting on it. Even though it made her slightly smirk. Harry took his time cleaning both of them, and Y/N didn't look away from him. Not even for a second. He lifted her up again and literally sat her down on the toilet so she could pee. They've done this a thousand times, it was normal for them, she wasn't modest about him seeing or listening to her pee. After they brushed their teeth next to each other, stealing curious looks (especially Harry at Y/N's boobs through the mirror), they went to bed together. And for the first time in two months, she rested her head on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her. The only thing she didn't notice was that once Harry knew she was asleep, he couldn't keep it in. He cried himself to sleep that night. But it wasn't any different from what he was used to from the past couple of months. The only difference was that this time, he knew he'd give up his dreams if it meant he could keep her around. & The next morning, Y/N felt something, or someone, shift behind her. She knew it was Harry. His arm was thrown over her waist, resting dangerously close to her boobs (she secretly loved the way Harry seemed obsessed with her boobs) and she could feel his breathing hit the back of her neck. She hugged his arm closer to her body to let him know she was awake, which made Harry shift even closer, cup her left breast and press his pretty pink and warm lips to her neck. "Good morning." She said with a breathy laugh, her morning voice was a sound that drove Harry mad. She sounded way too sexy for her (or his) own good. "Hi." He nuzzled her neck with his nose, "how'd you sleep?" He left another lingering kiss, this time below her ear. "Amazing. Haven't slept this good in a while." She replied honestly, wiggling her body back towards him so their torsos were pressing together. "Mhm, me too." He whispered, tightening his hold around her, his morning wood pressing on her lower back. She could already feel the pool of her arousal in between her legs, and when she arched her back so now his dick was pressing against the curve of her ass, he groaned in her ear. He slowly started to grind himself against her ass, moving down on the bed a bit so he could better his position. And when she grinded back against him, he reached in between them to position himself on her opening. He pushed the tip in, just enough to feel her tight hole around

him. "Can I?" He asked her to make sure they both wanted this. When she sighed deeply in pleasure and murmured a 'yes', he slowly thrusted into her, both moaning a bunch of profanities. They both were huge lovers of morning sex. It increased their moods during their days, helped them relax and carry their days with a carefree feeling. So, he fucked her. Hard. Not even close to how loving they were last night. He woke up with an unbeatable energy, and he wanted to take advantage of it. He fucked her in the position they woke up in. He turned her to her stomach and fucked her while (almost) laying completely on top of her (she loved feeling his weight on her) and he fucked her on all fours, only to end up in their initial position, with her back against his chest on their sides, so he could play with her clit to help her come. That morning they spent it in bed, Y/N made them breakfast, Harry read a book. They both knew they needed to talk, but they wanted to enjoy some time where everything felt normal between them again. So they avoided the topic. But the conversation they owed each other kept being pushed. And for another two months, everything slowly started to feel normal again. Usually, avoiding conversation will lead up to more hurting. But with Y/N and Harry, it ended up becoming a realization point. Harry got in terms with the fact they wanted different things. He decided she was worth anything and everything in the world, because she was his world. But what he didn't know was that Y/N spent those entire two months imagining what a life like the one Harry wanted with her would be like. And after one day, on Harry's 28th birthday, during a small walk they were taking on Central Park, she realized she would do anything in the world to make him the happiest man he could ever be. She kissed him so passionately that day, interrupting their walk. He looked at her with a confused look when she pulled away with the brightest smile on her face. But that smile made him confirm he was willing to give up his dream of getting married. That's why in mid February, Y/N found herself shopping in a very expensive jewelry store. She knew Harry liked that place since his 'H' and 'S' rings were from there. They had an amazing section of handmade rings that she spent a long time going through. She wanted to pick the best one she could find. She found the prettiest, most fine silver ring with a red stone adorning it's top. She knew he would love it. It definitely didn't look like the typical engagement ring, but nothing about Harry was typical. It would match the rest of his rings lovingly, and Y/N knew he would simply love it. Not only because it was a pretty ring, but because it would mean something big for them. Three days later, Y/N came back from work to find Harry sitting on their living room couch watching the forecast. Why? Who the fuck knows. He never watched cable TV. Y/N just stood there for a while, just staring at him. "Hi, love." He greeted her. "Are you alright?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. The crease between them made an appearance, even though it was there most of the time. "Hey." She finally moved, dropped her keys on the little bowl sitting on top of the small table in the hallway. "All good, gonna put some comfy clothes on really quick." She lied. She just couldn't wait any longer. Watching him sit there all frustratingly beautiful doing absolutely nothing was fucking annoying, it was so unfair how beautiful he was. She had an entire evening prepared but she just couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to do it now. She dropped her purse on their bed and quickly got rid of her shoes, but didn't change into anything comfier. She just grabbed the small black velvet box from her t-shirt drawer and went back to the living room, sliding it in the back pocket of her jeans so he wouldn't be able to see it. Harry looked at her with a confused look, wondering why she was still in her work clothes walking directly to him when she said she wanted to change. She sunk to her knees in

between his legs, which only made him even more confused. "You sure you're alright?" Harry gently asked her. She just hummed in response and grabbed the remote sitting on the coffee table (moving as little as possible, she didn't want him seeing the small bump on her jeans because she knew he would ask about it), and turned back around. She rested her ass on her ankles, and her arms on top of his thighs. "So..." she started. "So..." Harry repeated, confused. "I love you, so very much." Y/N started and Harry's breath got caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting this at all. "So much, you don't even understand." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. They haven't told they loved each other in so long, scared of the other not saying it back. God only knows why, because it was clear as water they still loved each other with their whole beings. "And I know we both always wanted different things." This is it. Harry thought. She's breaking up with me. "And I know there are some things I believe that you will never understand, and there are some things I- I didn't understand, for a long time." Harry furrowed her eyebrows further at this last part. Now he truly didn't understand what she was trying to say. "For so long I thought I wanted something, you know? Like I was sure I had it all figured out for myself, the life I wanted. But I actually- I was searching for a life that wasn't mine. And I didn't realize that what I already have is everything I could possibly want." Y/N's cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down her face so fast they were drenching his hands that were now pressed against her cheeks, softly caressing them. "I know now, that love is about finding common ground. Meeting each other's needs. And sometimes we have to step out of our comfort zone to do that. And I came to a conclusion." She swallowed the big lump on her throat, and that finally allowed her to let a long breath leave her chest. "I love you more than anything in this world. I hope you know that, and I know I struggle sometimes with letting you know how much I adore and admire all of you. But I promise to do my best today, and for the rest of my life, to make sure you know how loved you are. How much I'm willing to do for you. And this took me a while to understand, but I do now. I understand why you felt like you needed to take that 'next step' with us. And I understand why it'd make you as happy as you always said. So, it'd make me really happy to ask you to," Y/N reached her pocket and heard him gasp when she pulled the box in front of him, revealing a beautiful ring for him, "marry me." Harry was speechless. Truly, ultimately speechless. Not only was the love of his life asking him to marry her, she was saying she truly wanted this. Harry's gaze kept going from the ring back to her eyes. And after a while of no one saying anything, Y/N cleared her throat. "H," she whispered, "Will you marry me?" She asked, the soft tone on her voice and the question he dreamed so many times asking her knocked him back to life. "Yes, yes, Y/N, yes- oh Y/N-" he choked a sob, and the biggest smiles appeared on both their faces. Y/N threw herself to him, wrapping her arms around his neck so tightly. He helped her straddle him so he could wrap his own arms around her. They held each other for a few seconds, both crying the happiest tears they ever let drop, and when she pulled away to put the ring on him, he surprised her by crashing their lips together. They shared their most passionate kiss in the entirety of their relationship, both still crying, smiling, spilling so much love and adoration with each stroke of their tongues. When he pulled away, she finally placed the box in between them again. "Can I put it on you? I know you like to wear your 'H' ring on your ring finger, so we could put it somewhere else, you know? And make it our own thing-" Harry interrupted her giving her a soft peck, "or we could-" another kiss, "I don't know." She finally gave in, pressing her lips harder against him. After another long kiss, he finally told her

where he wanted his ring, and with a last kiss he patted her ass to let her know he needed her to stand up. "Wait here." He pointed at her, and she sat on the couch with a soft 'okay'. He returned moments later with his hand behind his back and a lopsided smirk. He sat in the same position she was for her proposal, in between her legs. Before he said anything, he moved his hands in between them, opening a red velvet box. She gasped like Harry did moments ago when she saw the beautiful ring with a small red stone (yes! Like his own ring) placed on top of a very thin and delicate silver band that was sitting inside the small box. "It was my grandmother's." Harry said in a quiet tone. "She gave it to me before she passed away a couple months after we met, remember?" She slowly nodded, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. There was so much love written all over his face. "I told her you were it for me. I knew I wanted this with you ever since we met at our university library. She gave it to me in hopes I could... give it to you some time." He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I kept it hidden from you all this time. Didn't want you to find it and make everything weird between us. But I'd really love if you could, um... wear it if you want?" He shyly asked. "It'd be an honor to carry her ring with me, Harry." His face lit up so fast at her response. "Yeah?" He asked, perplexed. "Yeah." Y/N replied with a big smile. "Will you marry me, Y/N?" He asked her this time, and she couldn't help but giggle. "I asked you first." She pecked his lips. "But yes, Harry. I'll marry you." And she kissed him again, and he couldn't help but smile so widely she ended up with her lips against his teeth. After putting his grandmother's ring on her, they shared another night of pure, loving sex. None remember how many times they made each other come, but they did have another important conversation between rounds. "Something else I wanted to tell you..." She said, in between kisses (they loved giving each other soft small pecks all over each other while they were talking). She was straddling him in their bed, his back against the headboard. He didn't want to pull out of her just yet, keeping his cum inside her for as long as possible. "I know you're ready to have kids, like, right now." She said, and he raised his eyebrows playfully at her. "I can tell by your breeding kink, honestly." He let a loud laugh leave his chest, making her smile too. It was honestly hilarious, I mean, look at their position. "I decided I really want to have kids with you." He gasped, "But..." he sunk down in his position, a visible pout on his lips, which she kissed away from him. "Promise me you'll wait for me, until I'm in my 30's" He locked eyes with her. She really wanted this. So much. "Only three more years?!" He asked with so much hope. "Three more years and we can start trying, I promise. I just thought that- that we could get married now, have some time as a married couple, you know? To enjoy ourselves." She shrugged and he couldn't help but smile widely and her, nodding frantically. "That way we are both adapting to each other, you know? Meet halfway our wants." "God, I love you so much." He chose to say, instead of replying straight away. "I'll wait a lifetime to have kids with you if that's what you wanted, just please- decide before you reach menopau-" He couldn't even finish his sentence since she shut him up by putting her hand over his mouth. "Don't even say it. God, I don't wanna be old." She sighed in frustration. "I honestly can't wait to grow old with you." Harry said with such a loving tone, like an enamored teenager, hugging her closer to him. And she couldn't help but smile back at him. Because even though ageing scares her, she's ready to spend the rest of her life with him. "I love you, my angel." Y/N told Harry, before kissing his lips, yet again.

"I love you, my Y/N." Harry whispered to her, keeping her face close to his.

Thank you so much for reading! Have a lovely day <3

-Joey

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry smut #my writing

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keijikunn · 4 years ago

Text

Rivalry ── Chapter III

── A @babythotshq collab “To All the Boys I’ve Loved”

Old feelings

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x gender neutral!reader Tags: college!au, angst, it’s kinda fluffy??? i don’t know, it’s not that angst either Summary: Tsukishima Kei had never imagined that you, his forever rival in high school, would write him a letter confessing your feelings. Does Tsukishima feels the same way? Word count: 3.7k

Author’s note: I’m dividing the last chapter in two, so I won’t be too long (trust me, it’s over than 6k and I wanna spare you all lol). Hope you all enjoy the chap III and I swear by the end of the month I’ll post the final part! Biggest thank you to @kaitycole and @newfriendjen that helped me out a lot, I love you two so much 🥺

WARNINGS: swearing, tsukki being salty but what’s new?, makeout (???), hints of anxiety

RIVALRY MASTERLIST

BECOME A BOOKWORM!

Ever since that… eventful day, you managed to avoid Tsukishima like the plague. It helped the fact you had classes in different buildings, not to mention the fact the college campus was huge. You were about to forget about the letter issue, as the courses have started a few days earlier and you dedicated most of your time to get things settled into a nice routine. Things were too good to be real, though.

You couldn’t believe in what you saw the first time you stepped inside the extracurricular class, after the first week since classes started. Not only your love letters were sent to all your previous crushes (who seemed to attend the same college as you), but the person you dreaded to see again would spend the next semester with you during your afternoon activities.

Tsukishima Kei smirked at your distressed expression, waving at you as if you were long time friends. He wants to irk you, Y/n, don’t give him this pleasure. You are better than him anyway, you repeated it as many times as possible before the bell rang - indicating the class was about to start. Fortunately you managed to sit on the opposite side of the room as Tsukishima, though you could feel his eyes burning holes on the side of your head.

“Why is he so annoying?” You muttered to yourself, sighing in annoyance. The professor entered the classroom, quickly introducing himself and the upcoming project you would work on. You were excited for it when you researched about the university, it was as if a dream was coming true, and you made up your mind to not let Tsukishima Kei ruin this experience.

“As always, we randomize the duos, so be prepared to work with someone who does things differently than you.” The old man at the front announced, and your guts were telling you that this wouldn’t be good. “Raise your hand if I call your name so your partner can find you.

The longer he took to call out your name, the more convinced you were that fate wouldn’t play nice with you. When the other two people left were paired up together, leaving you and Tsukishima without a partner, you had to hold the urge to scoff. As much as you tried your hardest to not bump into your old crush, the whole universe made sure to go against your will.

I should have gone to another extracurricular activity, damn it.

“So… guess we’re a duo, now,” Tsukishima snickered at your disgusted face, laughing at your dismay. “It’s not that bad be paired up with me, Y/n, c’mon”

“You’re right, it’s not bad.” You started, sending him a sharp glare. “It’s the worst thing ever”

With that, you turned around to pay attention to the further details the professor addressed the class. You knew Kei would try to make your experience in this project a literal hell, but you weren't going to let his antics distract you from getting anything less than the best result. You internally hoped that the tall boy also aimed for that, despite his annoying demeanor around you.

If not, you’d have a long semester ahead of you.

“For God’s sake, Tsukishima, this is not how we’re supposed to do it!” You whisper-yelled at the blonde boy, angrily gripping on your hair, holding yourself back from screaming at his face. It has been two weeks since you two started working on that stupid project, and it’s been two weeks of complete hell and anger. Being at the college’s library didn’t help as well, since you couldn’t externalize your frustration. “Can’t you read what I wrote down? Professor said we should follow this!”

“Yes, I’ve read it and decided that it sucks.” Tsukishima shot back, pushing away your notebook, writing a few words on your draft. “C’mon, Y/n, you should know by now that we don’t follow any professor’s instruction. We’re not at high school anymore, be more independent, won’t you?”

You hated to admit, but he was (at some instance) right. What hurt your pride more was that his suggestion was actually good- not that you would admit that, you’d rather die than say it out loud. This idea could easily work out with what you have thought previously, not to mention it would make more sense.

The lack of response made Tsukishima’s shit-eating grin grow on his features, irking you the exact same way he knew he was able to. He proceeded to add a few details on the paper and neatly placed it inside his folder, collecting his materials from the table. You two have been workin for almost two hours non-stop on the project after the whole morning classes, you had to admit your energy wore off at that point.

“Give me the paper, I want to add a few extra things.” You demanded, holding out your hand for him. Tsukishima arched his eyebrows as if he was surprised by such a request, then he scoffed at you - like always. “I’m not joking, I do want to modify it a bit.”

“The point of this being a group project is that we work on this together.” He stressed the last word, zipping his bag and shoving it over his shoulder. “And you wouldn’t do anything, judging by how tired you are.”

“I’m not!”

“Then care to explain how you didn't think about what I suggested earlier?” Suddenly your mind went blank at his response, what in the world does that mean? “You can think about this tomorrow, try not to melt your tiny brain.”

The tall boy left you without sparing a second glance, fumbling with his intertwined earphones as he walked. To say you were confused by his comment would be an understatement. Was he worried you would overwork yourself? No way, Tsukishima Kei would never care enough about you of all people.

Yet he’s still your partner.

“Fuck off, Tsukki.” You muttered tiredly, focusing on putting your belongings inside your backpack to (finally) head to your dorms.

The first time you’ve ever heard Tsukishima’s name was after the first exam of your freshman year in high school. Everyone was crying about their low grades, groaning at the prospect of having to study a lot more to the upcoming test. If you were not mistaken, a boy in your class named Yamaguchi commented how “Tsukki was smart” and he wasn’t surprised he aced it.

“Hey, L/n!” The girl who sits next to you approached you, paper in her hands. “How did you do?”

“I got 96%.” You answered quietly, trying not to drag attention to yourself due to your great performance. People in middle school didn’t like when you mentioned your grades, claiming you did that just to brag.

“Ehh? You’re so smart!” She said smiling. “Please, help me study! From what I heard just you and a boy from class 3 had such a high score. And Yamaguchi-kun said Tsukishima-kun doesn’t help anybody.”

“Of course, we can study at the library if you want to.” The offer seemed to appeal to her, given the fact she nodded quickly and proceeded to write down her cellphone number to you. “By the way, who is this Tsukishima guy?”

“He’s a tall, blonde boy. He uses glasses and if I’m not wrong he’s part of the volleyball club.” She answered, waving at you as she went back to her circle of friends, leaving you to think about who this boy is. “He’s not nice though. Always treats everyone as if he’s superior.”

You were able to put a face to the name you had in your mind after a couple of weeks, when another private school had a volleyball match against the male team of Hakone Academy. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the middle blocker with a poker face was Tsukishima, and you were surprised that he was actually good looking. Something that lacked in him, though, was passion in the sport - or rather in anything, according to your classmates.

Ever since that game, it seemed like you started to see Tsukishima every day in the corridors. You’d see him walking down the halls, his headphones always placed on the top of his ears, muffling the loud noise caused by the other students. He was cold to everybody, even rude if you were to be honest, but he was something else. His interests were inviting, itching your curiosity to get to know him better.

You realized you had a crush on Tsukishima Kei when you noticed how you paid attention to whenever you saw him around school, hearing his steady tone (usually talking to Yamaguchi) and his snarky smirk. All information you knew about him was, being honest, too little to grow intense feelings, but what got you hooked up was exactly this: you wanted to get to know him.

Things, however, didn’t work out the way you planned. The very first interaction you had with him was a disaster. You sounded way cockier than you wanted, you’ve never planned on teasing him and you have never imagined that it would backfire on you and lead him to dislike you.

After that incident, you discovered the aversion quite a lot of students had against him. Most of them claimed the same thing: Tsukishima Kei was mean, smug, had a superiority complex and always treated everyone poorly. A part of you didn’t want to believe in that, but how could you not when he mocked you in front of everyone?

Things didn’t get easier as the project progressed, not because it was too technical or that it required too many details. Yours and Tsukishima’s endless arguments and bickering always ended in screaming matches, hurtful comments and you two not on speaking terms. The premise of group projects was to create something together, but at this point you were doing your own thing while thinking about what the other was working on.

“Are you a dumbass or do you just pretend to be one?” Tsukishima angrily asked, dropping your notebook on the table. “This is horrible, Y/n.”

“You think it’s horrible because you’re doing things as you wish, not considering what I have to suggest!” You responded, your voice tone a few octaves higher due to your stress. Currently you two were at his dorms - the library was not an option anymore, the librarian kicked you out after you were shouting at each other - both awfully close as his dining table was tiny. “This is a fucking group project, you said it before! So you have to listen to what I have to say.”

“I’m not listening when you suggest stupid things like this!” He retorted, ripping the page out and crumpling it to toss on the floor. You widen your eyes, shocked at his recent action.

“Wow, Tsukishima, you are really being this petty.” A humorless laugh escaped your lips, you shook your head in denial, getting up to collect your paper off the ground. The tension in the air grew thicker and the man’s intense gaze burned holes on your back. “People were right, after all. You are unbearable.”

Tsukishima’s smug facade cracked a bit, you noticed, after hearing what you just said. His smirk left his face for a brief moment and his eyes mirrored mixed feelings, could they be sorrow, insecurity? You didn’t have enough time to decipher them as he quickly recomposed himself, offering you a snark grin.

“That’s why you liked me, huh? Did you want to correct the horrible, mean, malicious person that I am?” Tsukishima teased, hitting your emotions with ease. Your mind was empty, only his words echoing inside it, bumping into your skull with force.

You couldn’t understand him, honestly.

One time he is all worried about you overworking, passively aggressively implying you’re capable of suggesting better ideas; and now he’s being childish and not sparing a single offense towards you. You knew Tsukishima Kei was a hard person to handle if you’re not as quick witted as him, but this? This level of pettiness and stubbornness? For a young adult like him, that claims he’s better than everyone else?

“I’m done.” You stated, too burnt out to respond to his teasing comment. Your temples hurt due to the confusion the blond man was giving you, the constant push and pull between you two worn you out.

“What do you mean ‘you’re done’? We’re not done yet.” He stated as if it was a matter of fact - which was, he wasn’t wrong.

“Do I look like I care? I’m doing this shit by myself, you can do whatever you want, I’m done with you.” Silence engulfed the room, and you mentally thanked this peaceful moment. It, however, didn’t last long, because Tsukishima always finds ways to make things worse.

“Are you giving up that easy, Y/n? Couldn’t handle a bit of teasing?” That was it. The mocking tone he used against you was enough to snap the last string of sanity inside you, freeing a rage you never knew you had against him. The angriness burned your chest as you slammed your hands on the table, making Tsukishima flinch at the sudden outburst.

“Yes, I can not deal with your teasing ass.” You admitted shamesly, your mind ran a thousand miles a minute, not registering the words that left your mouth. “What I can’t deal with is a petty boy that can’t take this goddamn project seriously!”

“It wasn’t me who suggested stupid ideas.” Kei spat back, leaning in your direction, inviting you to answer him - almost like a dare.

“You always say my ideas are vain, stupid or whatever, but you never offered anything great or fucking brilliant,” it was indeed true. Tsukishima proudly belittled everything you said for the past few weeks, but never came up with something new. Instead, he modified everything you’ve given to him. “So please, before you put yourself above the others, do something that makes you actually the best-”

Any and every train of thought you had was interrupted by the aggressive contact of Tsukishima Kei’s lips against yours. Everything seemed to melt with the heat coming from the kiss, your hands sneaking behind his neck and gripping rather harshly at his blond hair. In between the feverish moment, Tsukki managed to sit you on the table and place himself between your legs. Gasps and soft murmurs interrupted the kiss every once in a while, your mouth occasionally made its way down his jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking his skin.Only until one of you reconnected them, tongues sliding against each other.

You honestly don’t know how long you two spent making out, but it was enough time to leave a few hickeys on each other's necks and clothes lightly pulled up. Tsukishima’s ears were as red as his swollen lips, the blond hair was a mess thanks to your roaming hands and the white t-shirt wrinkled.

“Still think I don’t suggest brilliant ideas?” Tsukishima teased, but the embarrassment he was feeling was written all over his face. To say you were speechless was an understatement, you’ve just had a full make out section with your biggest high school rival, the one you knew hated you the most. “Cat got your tongue? Or should I say- did I get your tongue, Y/n?”

“What the fuck did you just do, Tsukishima?” You demanded flustered, the feeling of his body close to yourself fading away. "Why have you done this?!"

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy, Y/N, I can feel the spot you left a hickey on." His comment made you groan in annoyance, because you knew you wouldn't be able to retort it.

Not paying attention to your surroundings, you pushed Tsukishima away from you, quickly grabbing your bag to leave his dorms. You didn't mind if you forgot something at his place - you would see him the next day, anyway. All you wanted was to get away from him, to finally think straight.

The cool air of the end of the day would help you come back to a reasonable state of mind.

You kept acting around Tsukishima after the first encounter. Whenever you had the chance to irk him you did it, initiating an unnecessary banter. You felt stupid to say the least, how low could you go?

Yet, you continued. Just to have his attention. Pathetic. However, you had a limit. And Tsukishima managed to trespass it with such facility you were surprised.

It happened during your second year, exactly one year after you got so interested in that mean boy. Things weren't easy for you, many reasons were behind your unstable state. School was overwhelming like never before, you could barely juggle between regular activities and your club's.

The stress weighted on you to the point you let your grades slip at one exam. You knew you had your worst performance so far, and the subject didn't help you as well.

"I'm going to hand back the exams." Your homeroom teacher announced, earning heavy groans from the whole class. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing how screwed you were if Tsukishima knew how poorly you did. "L/n Y/n"

As you got up from your desk, you felt a familiar pair of eyes burn holes on your back. The moment you read the barely 50% score written on the top of the paper, you blanked out. You missed how your teacher kindly smiled at you, reminding how this one performance didn't define you. The words didn't make sense to you, because for you it didn't matter. You failed.

Tears pricked the corner of yours eyes, shallow breaths escaped your parted lips as you sat down once again, barely sparing a glance at the paper on your desk. You truly didn’t know if someone tried to approach you, mind far away from reality, engulfing itself in a spiral of self doubt, worries and self depreciation.

“Well… looks like the top 2 student failed miserably on the test.” The steady, yet teasing tone of Tsukishima’s voice broke you out of your own head. “You’re fake, couldn’t even get more than half of it correct. You’re a lie, Y/n.”

“Not now, please.” It took most part of your will to mutter these three words without letting your voice crack. Tsukishima arched his eyebrows, amused by the scene unfolding in front of him: you lowering your head against your forearms on the table, shielding your tears from anyone. “Tease me all you want, but please do it another time.”

However, he kept going. Tsukishima pointed out every single question you got wrong, rubbing in your face how he aced another stupid paper while you were a failure. The classroom was noisy, the end of the period let the students talk freely, but you only heard Kei’s voice, adding to your pre-existent stress and pressure.

As far as you could remember, you’ve never underestimated him in any interaction you two had. Sure, you threw a teasing comment every once in a while, but always bragging about yourself, how you’ve outsmarted him. But you were sure you never humiliated him - and you’d never do such a low blow like this.

“Enough, Tsukishima!” You raised your voice, everyone now was paying attention to you two. The embarrassment heated your entire face and your tears finally ran down your cheeks, the blond boy seemed startled with your sudden outburst, though his smirk quickly returned to your face. “I got that you’re better, now can you please shut the fuck up?!”

Thankfully the bell rang, indicating classes were over for the day. You quickly shoved your test on your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as you turned to head to the door. With the sleeve of your coat, you wiped the reminiscent tears from your eyes and left the room. Not only you exited that suffocating place, but also you left behind the stupid crush you had on Tsukishima Kei.

Since that day, you couldn’t stand being near him, all teasing interactions reduced to none and you’ve never checked the scoreboard as soon as the grades were out. You focused on your own stuff, trying your best to clear your thoughts from Tsukishima - which didn’t work as well as you planned.

Every once in a while, in the middle of a studying session, you found yourself pushing your limits like you used to do to get a higher performance than him. As much as you hated to admit, Tsukishima was a great incentive to do better, to set higher goals academically speaking. And though he caused you a lot of pain, a part of you (the stupid one, in your words) still thought he was attractive, you still had a tiny interest in the true guy behind that acting.

That’s why you decided to write him that letter. Perhaps admitting your “crush” on him would make you realize you’ve created almost an entire new person using his name and face. In a way it actually helped, you truly thought you have moved on from him and college would give you a new beginning away from Tsukishima.

Fate, on the other hand, had other plans for you and here you are: walking slowly towards your dorms, emotionally drained and confused. The prospect of Tsukishima Kei having the slightest interest in you was shocking, especially after all those three years of. endless insults.

Are those feelings coming back?

“Oh, no.” You muttered to yourself, immediately stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, frightened about your last thought. “Oh my, there’s no way I’m crushing Tsukishima once again!”

If you concentrated enough, you could still feel his chapped lips against your skin, his large hands roaming through your body. He was right about you enjoying it- in reality, you did more than you’d like to admit. Tsukishima Kei was annoyingly filling your mind with both his smart and arrogant ass and that unexpected (but surprising) heated moment.

You needed to get to your dorms and take a long shower to put your thoughts in order, because there’s no way you’re having feelings for Tsukishima Kei once again.

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #TATB: Tsukishima route #haikyuu imagine #baby thots collab

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kmpac · 4 years ago

Text

Noona No More

➸ 18+

➸ Summary: You are a stylist for the biggest group in the world, which has some decided advantages, but it also has some definite distractions. The biggest of which being Park Jimin. After a performance goes slightly wrong, you get your chance to tell Jimin exactly what you think of him and turns out he has some things to say about you too.

➸ Word count: 6K

➸ Pairing: Park Jimin x stylist noona

➸ Genre: Slight Angst, Smut, Fluff if you squint

➸ Warnings: Jimin crying (it broke my heart to write it!), some foul language, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (because, of course!)

➸ A/N: I have been on tumblr for a while, but haven’t ever shared anything I’ve written. Being a mom in my 30s, it has been literally 15 years since I actually wrote anything, but I’ve been inspired by Jimin lately. My sweet ultimate bias. I just adore him. With the encouragement of some ARMY friends, I decided to share this. We will see what happens and if anyone reads this. Lol. I have never written warnings before, as this is my first time writing smut. I’m so sorry if I forget something. If you see anything I should add, please let me know!

Being a stylist for BigHit had some decided advantages; working for a company that cared for its employees and paid well not being the least of which. But BigHit was also full of idols who were not prima donnas, which from your 10+ years in the business had taught you was an incredibly rare feat. The worst thing you had to deal with was boys falling asleep in the styling chair or wanting to play in front of the cameras that followed them everywhere. No, you had it really good, you couldn’t deny.

That did not change the fact that being a stylist for Big Hit, and primarily being assigned to BTS had some decided disadvantages as well. Primary among these disadvantages was one – Park Jimin.

Jimin was the kind of person that would sit quietly making polite conversation with you making you feel seen and important and not like a prop in his everyday life. But he was also the kind of person that would brush just slightly too close to you as he stood from his chair and would cutely say “excuse me” with a knowing smirk as you blushed from ears to toes. In other words, he was dangerous. He was charming, sweet, sexy, funny: all the attributes to make any woman weak at the knees. Unfortunately for you, having a crush on your gorgeous idol subject was not an option if you wanted to keep your job. Not only were you required to be professional in order to carry out your duties, but it was also the road to heartbreak, and you knew it. Idols weren’t allowed to date openly, and for BTS it wasn’t only impossible with their superstar status, but was impossible due to their schedules. You knew well the hours they put into their work and had more than once blow dried and curled their hair as they fell asleep standing. They worked hard, but play was something foreign to them.

So when Jimin would flirt just before a show, you assumed it was only to get into the mindset of his stage persona, not to personally give you a heart attack. It was the only form of comfort and a wakeup call that you could offer yourself.

That was until one particular day when your whole world turned upside down.

You were backstage at an award show, curling Jimin’s hair as his sleepy chin dipped to his chest. His lips were puffy and adorable as usual and his makeup was flawless so you could barely see his cute freckles that you wished the makeup people wouldn’t hide. His complexion, too, was a bit too light, but you always attributed that to a broken sense of the beautiful in this country. Pale did not always equate to beautiful and tan could be gorgeous, like Jimin’s own natural honey skin tone that made him look like candy you could eat. Come to think of it, it was probably safer for your sanity that they did adjust his complexion, if that thought was any indication of your fragile state of mind around this man.

“You will be needing another dye job soon,” you said casually as you assumed his half asleep mind wouldn’t even register it.

Without even opening his eyes, he uttered, “will you do it, Noona?”

“If I’m the stylist on duty, of course.”

“You are the only one who is gentle. I always feel like my scalp is on fire when anyone else does it.”

“You exaggerate. And I don’t do it any different than anyone else.”

He looked up then as you were midway through a curl of the iron and grabbed your wrist, “promise you will be the one who does it, Noona.”

You were distracted by his eyes that were so much more than the colored contacts he wore. Even those couldn’t distract from how jaw dropping and gorgeous his eyes were, especially as he had some of the most honest and forthright eyes you had ever seen. This man didn’t do secrets.

“I will try,” you offered, though you knew you would do nothing of the sort. Dye days were the worst because you spent hours upon hours with one boy exclusively and you couldn’t handle that with Jimin. He was your Achilles’ Heel.

“Thanks, Noona,” he said as he closed his eyes again.

You hated him calling you Noona. It made you feel old. Sure you were both adults, but you had 7 years on him and such matches just didn’t happen in Korea. Not that it mattered, anyway, you reminded yourself as you turned to grab the hairspray, because Park Jimin would never look at you that way even if you were his age.

The boys rushed out of the room in a whirlwind shortly after with last minute checks of wardrobe, makeup and hair as they went to perform. It was always a mad house just before stage, and the boys were jumping around and singing to warm up their voices, and overall getting hyped up so they had the energy they needed to go full out. There were a lot of people there to see them, and they never disappointed.

The moment your life turned upside down though, started just as you were backstage, putting away most of your equipment and cleaning up any mess left backstage as you and your fellow stylists watched the boys performance on the monitors in the dressing room. The boys were performing Dionysus to perfection. Every move was as accurate as in rehearsal, even with the jet lag and exhaustion of the boys. They were used to it, they would say, but you always felt for them. Jimin was front and center doing his incredible solo spotlight as the boys made a V formation behind him to “Where the Party at” when it happened. Jimin’s voice squeaked and it came out rather profoundly on the monitors. The boys rarely made mistakes of any kind, or if they did it was largely overlooked by the audience, but there was no hiding this moment as he was the focal point.

You could tell by his face for that split second that he was shocked by his voice, but then he went right back to being the exceptional performer he was born to be. You forgot about it entirely until the moment the boys finished the performance and came back down the hallway to the dressing room. You were all crowded into one of the bigger rooms at the show, but even still it was hard to shove everyone in who accompanied the boys, but any crowd was quickly forgotten when you saw Jimin’s face.

He was puffy around the eyes and slightly red. His face was contorted with a grimace and there were definite tear tracks on his face. Tae had him under his arm, practically dragging him into the room. When he made it inside, he completely lost it. He started crying in earnest and fell to the floor against a wall as he shucked off his 3 million Won jacket and cast it in his makeup chair.

The makeup artist assigned to Jimin made no show of emotion as she took her kit and went to sit beside him on the floor to clean him up. She turned back toward you, who was still standing shell shocked in the middle of the room, and asked you to grab the dabbing paper from her station. You quickly went to her side and offered her the materials, which she quickly put to work. The boys would no doubt be called to stage at any time to accept one of their millions of awards they would win tonight, and there was no time for tears. You sat beside him as he attempted to get control of his emotions. RM was hovering as his stylists scurried around him and Tae was shouting praises to Jimin to cheer him up, but nothing seemed to help.

“Noona,” he said and your focus went back to his face and you saw he was looking at you as his makeup artist reapplied his eyeliner in a hurried fashion.

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I messed up. Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“Don’t joke,” he said as he adjusted his position and you tried not to make eye contact. You didn’t want him to know that, yes, you saw him, and yes, you noticed the mistake, because admitting it meant everyone saw it, everyone heard it. You wanted to distract from that, but you didn’t know how. You were quickly shuffling through a million statements you could make that would give comfort without making him feel worse, when you felt his hand slip into yours discreetly. You looked down and then straight into his eyes. What you found there had your heart beating wildly out of your chest. Such an open look of desire to be comforted, to be heard and understood, and it conveyed only a desire for honesty, and though you couldn’t ever verbalize how you knew that, you still KNEW.

You took a deep breath and looked around as all the boys and their stylists began to shuffle toward the door. Before long it would only be the three of you in here if you didn’t manage to get him up and out the door on time. His makeup artist was still going about her work with such wicked accuracy and precision that you marveled at her talent.

“You messed up?” you asked as your eyes were still on the makeup artist, “Who cares?”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you knew there was no going back. The makeup artist stopped her work and Jimin completely froze staring at you.

“You aren’t perfect, Jimin, and you aren’t made to be. Sometimes you are so insanely talented that I think the whole world forgets that you are just a guy. Just a man. And that’s ok.” At this you made eye contact with him and grabbed his hand more fiercely. Jimin was looking at you with a guarded expression, but his eyes were alight with tears or something else – you couldn’t tell.

“You know that, right? You know that you are perfect in your imperfections, even when you mess up?”

He blinked back at you but didn’t speak. The makeup artist looked at you and stood to leave the room to give you a moment. You couldn’t say why she did that, but some cosmic intervention must have made it happen, because as soon as she left you realized that you and Jimin were the only ones left in this room filled with half full garment racks, makeshift beauty stations and piles in every corner of the room filled with people’s belongings.

“Do you really think so?” He asked, bringing your attention back to his face.

“Think what?”

“That I’m perfect, even when I mess up.”

“Of course, I do! Life is messy, and it never goes according to plan, but that’s what makes it beautiful, people are the same.”

His eyes looked down in disappointment, but he wasn’t crying anymore so that was something, although that look made you confused as you felt like you were getting through to him, if not for that expression.

“You know, I failed my final exam in beauty school the first time.”

“You did?”

“I sure did. And if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean?”

You laughed at the open look of curiosity on his face, “My dream had always been to work for YG and I probably would have stayed there forever, but because I failed and my spot was taken I bounced around from job to job with company after company until no one would take me on except Bang PDnim. And now, all this time later, I’m stylist to the biggest group in the world. How is that for No More Dream?”

He smiled at you then and even chuckled lightly under his breath, but his eyes never left your face.

You looked into his open honest eyes for only a moment and yet it could have been days for how your heart began to beat out of your chest. It was one of those defining moments in life. As you looked into his perfect eyes, it was as though you were tied together in that moment, where two souls were speaking though your bodies were silent. It was not something you could verbalize and you didn’t want to. Time didn’t exist in that moment.

That is until you heard the bell alerting them of a commercial break, which would allow them the moment to go back to their seats on the stage. It woke you up and reminded you that you were still sitting on the floor with a pop star who needed to get to his seat before the gossip started. After his mistake on the stage, he didn’t need people speculating that he was backstage crying (even though it was true).

“Ok, let’s get you out there,” you said as you went to grab his bicep, which was surprisingly firm and strong for such a skinny man, but you had no time to think on it, as he interrupted you with your name. He never called you by your name.

“Wait,” he looked at you again in earnest and you felt the blush rise on your cheeks as you waited for him to say whatever he would say.

“I know you hate being the center of attention, and getting any kind of praise, but…thank you”

“You’re welcome, Ji-“

“And…I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but…” he looked behind your back at the door that now contained no one, “If this is my only opportunity, then…”

You had no idea what he was talking about and were about to turn around and head toward the door, no matter his requests for you to wait. He had to go.

But before you got fully turned toward the door, he grabbed you by your wrists and spun you to the wall behind the open door so you would be secluded, and then crashed his perfect plush lips on yours. You had often imagined what being kissed by Jimin would feel like. Soft, gentle, like pillows against your mouth, because his lips were so fluffy looking.

This was not that, though. He was rushed for time, so his lips were tight and brutal against your mouth. In a second, when you went to take a breath, his tongue was in your mouth stealing your hastily taken breath with the greed of his. His hands were in your hair, and his solid front was pressed firmly against yours. You were taken so off guard you forgot to respond to his kiss, to take advantage of running your hands through his hair that you had just styled a few hours previously and still looked gorgeously coifed. Instead you were practically paralyzed against the wall with hands at either side of your head, but as the heat of his body seeped into yours and the semi hardness in his pants connected with your softness, you gasped in pleasure suddenly.

The sound shocked him out of his trance and he stepped away apologizing profusely to you. Instead of listening to him wrongfully assume you weren’t into him, you decided to show him just how much he was wrong by grabbing him by his neck and merging your lips back together. Like two people starved of each other you grabbed and pulled and pushed with a fiery passion and one of your legs lifted off the floor to wrap around his waist as you rubbed your center against his front seeking friction from the only man you ever wanted between your legs for as long as you live. He growled and took your leg off his waist and set you back on your feet in a show of great restraint.

His head hit your chest as he tried to catch his breath and gain control back. The bell was ringing again to say the commercial break was over.

“Fuck,” he grunted out toward the floor as his face continued to be hidden from you. “I have to go back out there.”

“I wish you didn’t, but you are right and the others will be back soon,” you said referencing the other staff.

“Please know,” he said as he lifted his head and made eye contact with you, “this isn’t just physical for me.”

You took a shaky breath through your nose to gain control of your beating heart, “Same here.”

He smiled at that, wide and with his gorgeous eyes.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

He chuckled as he wiped his pants off from sitting on the floor, “I thought I was too young for you.”

He turned to leave as you heard familiar voices approaching.

“We aren’t done here,” he said as he pointed at you and then ran out of the room, just as the others returned to the room.

You stood at the door and watched him go. At the last minute, he turned and smiled at you and like the tease you always knew he was, he licked his bottom lip and bit it.

You knew you probably looked like a love sick puppy as you leaned on the doorway watching him go with a light blush on your cheeks, but you couldn’t help it.

Just before he went on stage, though, you ran out to him calling his name. As your cover you fluffed his hair that needed no fluffing, but to him you whispered, “Don’t call me noona anymore.”

He tried to hold in his laugh but leaned down as his eyes scanned the backstage to make sure no one was looking as he whispered back, “you got it baby. I’ll see you after.”

Then he winked and was gone.

_____________________________________________________________

You did your level best to focus on the performances and your cleanup of the back room until the end of the show that night, but you couldn’t help but relive that kiss over and over again in your mind. You had kissed Park Jimin! The most famous idol in Korea. The literal It Boy of the country, probably of all of Asia. He was beyond beautiful, talented, kind, funny, and did you mention gorgeous? You kept stealing views of his perfect flirtatious eyes in the monitors as you packed up your belongings and shuffled to load the Big Hit vehicles for the end of the show. Every time you caught his eye, you felt like he was looking straight back at you (which was silly since you knew he was just looking into the camera to make eyes at the fans).

After the show everyone was exhausted and piled into the black tinted windowed vehicles to lead them back to their hotels. BTS got a private floor of the fancy hotel designed for performers and the famous actors who presented the awards. You on the other hand were staff, and not just staff, but support staff, not managerial staff, like Sejin who stayed in the hotel with the boys so he was on hand in case of emergencies, and not like the body guards and personal assistants to the group. You were just a stylist. Suffice to say, you didn’t expect you would see him again tonight when you went back to your budget hotel down the block from the venue. Jimin had promised he wasn’t done with you (the thought of that statement made something in your lower stomach twist, even as your legs rubbed together), but surely the circumstances being what they were, that would be impossible.

You were winding down for the evening after washing your face and brushing out your hair and were about to put on a sleep mask and turn on some late night TV program to fall asleep to when your door rattled as a heavy hand hit the door. Like any self-respecting Millennial, you were immediately terrified at the prospect of an unexpected visitor, and ironically, your mind was so full of his kiss that you were beyond astonished and taken by surprise, when you opened the door to Park Jimin in the flesh. You would have pinched yourself to wake up from your obviously delusional dream, but then he started walking in through the door without invitation.

You backed into the room surprised as he threw the keys in his hand on the table and started shucking off his boots as he closed the door with his leg.

“You drove here?”

He nodded.

“How did you even find where I was staying?”

“I’m clever, and Sejin isn’t as protective of his planner as he thinks he is.”

In a moment, you were in his arms. If he had given you time to consider the state of the hotel room, with your belongings strung out across the bed, including your bra and underwear you planned to wear the next day, and your cosmetics strewn across the countertops and tables, you might have been embarrassed. Instead, he was like a man possessed as he took advantage of your surprise, like he had done that afternoon at the show, as well. In a rare moment of confidence, you wondered if he had imagined being with you like this as many times as you had imagined being with him.

His mouth encapsulated yours like he was afraid you would run away if he stopped. You were so incredibly consumed, you didn’t have one thought of stopping him. It was like a dream come true. And having him in this intimate environment that smelled like you and was filled with your things after the previous night’s stay, you felt your whole body come alive.

His hands were in your hair, but his arms were so tightly wrapped around you that every inch of your body felt sealed in his arms. As he walked with you in his arms toward the bed, you only had time to think about how good he smelled, like citrus and some kind of flower. In a word, he smelled delicious. And his body was so solid against yours, and hair and skin were so soft, which you knew because you couldn’t stop your hands from devouring him even as your mouth was completely drowned in his lips.

And GOD his lips. Were there two such lips anywhere else in the world that tasted, felt, and looked this beautiful? Not that you could see them right now as your eyes were rolled back in your head in ecstasy, especially as he drove his stiff shaft into your clothed center. You moaned wantonly and he pulled away to stare in your eyes. His face flushed and lips swollen, even more than usual, as he lay you down on the bed and leaned over you.

“Is this ok?” he asked and you sputtered out a yes in reply as his smiling face fell to devour you once again.

His hands began to loosen the ties on your robe and he slowly ground his heavy anatomy into your clit, which only furthered the fire in your belly.

“Please,” you started chanting as he ripped your robe open and quickly took up residence on your unclothed chest like a man starving. You whined wantonly, who could blame you? You had to remind yourself again that Park Jimin was the one currently running his perfectly pointed tongue over your pert nipple. As he did he moaned in a voice so deep you would have believed it was someone else if not for the evidence before you. His hands were soft as they ran across your sides and your ribs and gripped with his ring clad fingers on your waist. You found yourself growing wetter by the second as you imagined him bruising your hips with those ring clad fingers. It was a thought you often had when you watched his fingers wrap around his microphone when he performed.

“I can’t control myself,” he said, bringing you out of your trance. “If you don’t want this, tell me so now.”

“I want this!” you practically screamed as you lifted your hips to grind against his clothed member. He practically growled in response as he pulled away and stared at your unclothed body. He started to slowly remove his jacket and unbutton his white button up shirt. For your part, you lifted onto your elbows to drink him in, as you pulled your robe from underneath of you and threw it across the room. You were still wearing your underwear (thank god they were cute ones) but your upper body was bare and your hair was draped in what you hoped was a seductive way. He was biting his lip, meanwhile and slowly untucking his shirt from his pants as he, one arm at a time, removed his shirt. It was so hot and sultry, you felt another gush of liquid between your legs as you moaned. Jimin, for his part, seemed to grow more bold and flirtation the more you seemed to enjoy yourself. With the grace of a dancer, he stood to his full height as he finished shucking off his shirt and tossing it across the room. Until that moment you had been fully concentrated on his eyes, but you couldn’t deny that his perfectly sculpted stomach and chest were a very welcome distraction. You had never seen anything so perfect before in your life. From his honey skin, soft and smooth and free of blemish, to his dusky nipples that made your mouth water, you were ready to eat him alive right then and there. You lifted to do just that as you took in his muscular stomach and his sexy tattoo. Your hands followed the trail of your eyes and it took no time to dig in to the feast laid before you.

Your tongue was currently swirling around his perfect nipple, when a particularly high keening noise left Jimin’s mouth. His enjoyment encouraged you to be even more bold as your hand found the front of his trousers. He took a big inhale as your hand connected with his member. The softness of his balls as you brushed them made it even more extreme of a contrast as your hand connected with his engorged manhood. It made your mouth water as you imagined taking it into your throat.

With that thought you pulled away to make quick work of his pants. Jimin was vibrating, practically, with anticipation as his hands joined yours in removing his slacks. His belt flew across the room, and his pants and boxer briefs came off in one shot like lightning. Your eyes again devoured the man, and for the rest of forever you knew you would never see anything as beautiful as a naked Jimin. He blushed slightly as you took him in from head to toe. He knew what he looked like, but obviously was not used to being appraised so fully. His blush only increased his sexiness, so you decided to tell him.

“You are literally the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

His smile could have outshined the sun and in that moment you promised yourself that you would make an effort to be vocal with him to keep that smile on his face.

Now, with only your underwear as a barrier, you both finally realized the gravity of the situation as things got more serious. You began to crawl backward on the bed, as he went on hands and knees to chase you up the bed. You bit your lip and whined at the intensity in his eyes, and he growled at your wanton behavior.

In a second he was back on you and now his unclothed dick was the star as he rolled his hips into your center. You were already so close, it was embarrassing, but you didn’t even care. You wanted him: carnally, emotionally, in any way he would give you himself and you would thank him for any shred of it.

“More baby,” you heard yourself beg, “please, more! I want more, Jimin!”

His lips met yours as he gripped onto your lower lip and bit it, causing you to whine again.

“What do you want from me, Jagiya?”

Your eyes shot open at the use of that word, but it only brought a warmth in your heart as you answered his question.

“I want you to make love to me, Jimin. Please…”

He wasted no time as he descended down your body with open mouth kisses. His pillow lips making you so crazy you thought you could probably just come from his kisses, but he went too quickly down your body and before you knew it he was biting into your underwear to pull them down your legs.

You lifted up to watch and what you saw made your heart explode and your lower lips vibrate in anticipation. There before you were the eyes of a man possessed as he stared straight into your soul and his mouth wrapped around the lace of your underwear.

God he was sexy. He always had been, but nothing had prepared you for this. He hadn’t even brought you to orgasm yet and you were already certain that he was a sex God.

As your thoughts swirled with his perfection, his glorious lips took up the position of your underwear as he slowly but surely wrapped his perfect lips around your throbbing nub. Your panting intensified and you found your hands fisting in the sheets as he began to suck. In between sucks, he would moan about how wet you were for him and instead of being embarrassed you felt sexy and powerful. Jimin had the incredible ability to make you forget his status in a moment of passion and only feel how much he worshiped you. Or at least that was what he did to you.

His fingers meanwhile, found your entrance and as your lips quivered he plunged a ringed finger deep into your hole without warning. You whined loudly as you threw your head back in ecstasy against the pillows. You felt him moan into your nub as you did so, which only intensified your internal struggle. You began panting his name as he continued to assault your nub with licks and sucks as his curved tongue would periodically flick out and tease your lower lips, whilst his first finger took a completely different rhythm, driving into you with abandon. The contrast of feelings and intensity brought you to orgasm faster than you thought possible. With a gasp, and a sharp inhale, you felt your silent scream as it racked your body with shivers. As you came down, and the sensations began to settle into over sensitivity, Jimin’s tongue licked up your liquid heat like it was ice cream. He even sucked on his first finger from ring to tip as he sighed into it at the taste of your release.

You think you might be in love.

In no time he was climbing up your body and smiling at your ecstatic face. You were so fucked out, you had no thought to be embarrassed. Instead you hooked your legs on his perfect ass and pulled him into you.

“Put that perfect dick in me this instant,” you told him as you were out of breath.

“As you wish,” he giggled. With no hesitation he drove himself into you harshly, causing both of you to exhale a fluttered breath. His forehead made contact with your own in an intimate gesture as his perfect lips pouted out to connect with your lips in a feather light kiss. You could have cried at the intensity of his gaze as he slowly began to pump in and out of you.

His dick WAS perfect, as you had said. Just the right size, not too big, not too small, and thick to stretch you in all the right places. And more importantly, he knew how to use it. He lifted one of your legs to drape across his shoulder as he ground himself deep inside of you. You had always been completely convinced that the G spot was a mystical imaginary body part, made up by women who couldn’t tell the difference between an internal orgasm and a clit instigated orgasm, but you stood corrected. As his hips rolled in a movement you had often seen when he was on stage (though admittedly, had never seen quite like this!) you felt that foreign fire burning beneath his pressure. You were about to explode again as Jimin’s hips quickened. You watched his stomach muscles clench and pull taught over and over as his wave motions grew quicker by the second and his moans grew in intensity.

“Fuck, I forgot a condom!” He shouted even as his motions grew more rapid.

“I’m on the pill. Shut up and fuck me!” You panted as you met his movements with your hips.

“God, you feel so good, Jimin.” He moaned at your praise, so you continued practically in a whine, “you are so fucking sexy, I want all of you! I’m so close again. Your dick is perfect! You are amazing! Oh my God!”

And just like that you both grew silent as you crashed over the abyss together. Your high pitched squeal came out even as your lips quivered and squeezed him of every last drop. He meanwhile groaned into your neck as his cock spluttered out the last of his cum into your waiting heat.

It took a while before you regained your breath enough to speak and when you did, you instantly felt embarrassed at the openly affectionate look on his face.

“I couldn’t wait to have you. As soon as you said it wasn’t just physical for you either, I’ve thought of nothing else.”

“I guess I should have trusted you when you said you would find me after,” you laughed, as you brushed his hair away from his face as he fell down beside you. His member was slowly decreasing in size, but you made no effort to remove him from inside of you.

“You should always trust me when I make a promise,” he said with intensity in his eyes, but immediately turned shy, like the humble duality king you knew him to be. “I hope it is ok that I came here.”

“Obviously!” you said much too quickly and much too loudly, causing Jimin to giggle and whisper ‘cute’ under his breath.

“I didn’t plan to come here just to attack you, but then I saw you and I couldn’t resist.” His eyes were on fire and completely set on you.

“I’m glad you did,” you said with a blush as you looked at your hands as you covered your face, “I’m afraid I would have been a mess if you hadn’t broke the ice, so to speak.”

“Why?” He asked earnestly and you almost laughed at how clueless he seemed.

“You have to be kidding.” When he didn’t respond, you sat up and looked him straight into his eyes as he lay back against your pillows. “You are Park Jimin, Lead Vocalist and Main Dancer of the Biggest Band in the world. It Boy of Korea, and literally the sexiest man alive.”

He smiled cockily at that last comment and asked you if you really thought so, but when you quieted him, he turned more sober.

“I get it. But all those things mean is I’m completely unavailable. My life is my job. I don’t have a lot I can offer.”

You tried to contradict him, but he stopped you with a hand on your mouth.

“Despite this…I find myself wanting to risk it all to be near you. I’ve been trying to get your attention for months, ever since you took a more primary role on my styling. I won’t lie to you, you are beautiful, gorgeous even, but I try my best not to pay attention to beautiful faces when I know it isn’t a good idea to get involved, but then you say things to me that completely change my outlook on something, or heal me with just a word, and I can’t help it…”

You were frozen in a seated position on that bed. Your cheeks were on fire at hearing this confession, and you opened your mouth to return the praise, but he stopped you with a kiss.

“Will you let me call you Jagiya? Can I be with you despite all the challenges?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he stopped you again.

“Before you answer, please think about it. We won’t be allowed to have a regular relationship. Not only will we have to be secretive with the outside world, but we will have to be secretive with the company as well. It’s never explicitly said, but I’m not publicly allowed a relationship, and in the eyes of the company this means – they don’t want to know about any exploits we have. As such, even at work, we will have to keep it a secret. Are you ok with that?”

Even with these challenges, you didn’t even hesitate when you accepted him, just as he is and promised to have him in whatever way he was able to give you.

With that he smiled like a man truly content, and his eyes swam with unshed tears, as he fell down beside you in bed. His chin upon your shoulder, as his lips coasted across your neck.

It didn’t take long for things to escalate again.

To say the least, you didn’t sleep much that night. Nor would you again for the foreseeable future.

#jiminie #park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin ff #stylist noona #my ultimate bias #park jimin duality king #old lady writing fanfic

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years ago

Text

“Under the Knife” - Part 2

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,500-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Talks of murders, talk of crime scenes, cursing

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Tag List:

@fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

----------------

After your meeting with Jack, you filled out some paperwork and made it official: You were going to be his profiler for any case that he wanted to call you in for. And apparently he already had one building.

“We have a suspected serial killer hitting close to home. Three killings in Montclair, Lorton, and Fredericksburg.” As he said the Virginian cities, Jack plopped 3 case files in front of you and moved to the board full of evidence that he had.

“Oh! We’re starting right now? O-Okay.” He turned from the board to look at you with a sort of incredulous way.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“I mean, we literally just signed the papers. I thought I would have a night to prepare instead of being thrown right in.” You said the truth without seeming ungrateful or annoyed, which was good. But you instantly started to nervously ramble as Jack nodded and walked back to his desk. “But if we need to start right now, I can. I just wasn’t ready for--”

“You’re right. We’ll start talking tomorrow. For now, take those files, do your homework, and report here at 9AM. We’ll go to the lab and introduce you to Beverly, Price, and Zeller.” Jack smiled and motioned toward the door.

“Thank you. I will see you tomorrow morning!” You tried to be professional but also show that you were actually excited to work with him.

“See you tomorrow.”

After putting the files securely in your bag, you headed to your apartment. You put the files on your dining room table before you hung up your coat and work bag. You checked your watch. You had dinner plans with Hannibal in an hour and a half. You stood between your room and the table that the files were seated on. You fidgeted with your ring for a few seconds as you debated on whether or not to start catching up on the case now or after dinner.

“I can read over the first one and then get ready for dinner.” You told yourself as you pulled out the semi-comfy chair and opened the file.

Case: #566-A

This case was from 6 weeks ago in Montclair. Ballsy to be close to the FBI and kill people. There were two victims: Dr. Everet and his wife Whinnie. They were found dead in their shared bedroom in their upper-class house. A nice upper-class place thanks to being a doctor.

Whinnie looked like a murder that you would find in an armed robbery case: Quick throat slit, not much thought or motive into it, left on the floor to bleed out. Dr. Everet on the other hand was what you assumed grabbed Jack’s attention.

Dr. Everet was in the middle of their bed. The autopsy report claimed that the cause of death was exsanguination which made sense considering he was in pieces. Everet was cut at every major joint. His arms were separated from his shoulders, his legs from the pelvis, his thigh from his knee, his forearm from the elbow, and so on and so forth down to his fingers and toes. The report showed that there was a high level of paralytics in his system. So you make him sit there while you cut him apart. That’s why there are no defensive wounds. He had to lay there and endure all of that...

Why was Everet presented like this while his wife was a simple throat slit?

You made some notes in your book, making sure to write out questions to ask the team when you met up with them tomorrow. With every note you made, you found yourself going back to the case file and trying to connect dots. You soon realized that you couldn’t begin to connect those dots until you looked at the other files.

Without much thinking, you opened all three files, quickly skimming over each of them and writing out the main points that stood out. You were supposed to be at Hannibal’s at 7 o’clock and it was only 5:45. It didn’t take that long to get to his place.

All of the murders happened 2 weeks after the other, starting 5 and a half weeks ago. Dr. Everet was about 6 weeks ago, Dr. Chaseten was about 4 weeks ago, and Dr. Loriet was about 2 weeks ago. Which means this killer is bound to strike again soon if this time frame is important to him.

They all have at least one victim that is treated like a paralyzed piece of artwork like Dr.Everet and at least one victim thrown to the side and killed quickly. The ‘pieces of art’ were all doctors, the others were their husbands or wives.

They all were in different cities in Virginia but close enough to make a solid assumption that this is the same killer.

You were scribbling out a note to ask about if there were any particulates found in any of the bodies when your phone buzzed on the table next to you. You didn’t even look at the screen, you just hit the answer button and put whoever was calling on speakerphone.

“(Y/N) speaking.”

“Good evening, (Y/N).” The thickly accented voice rang through your speaker and stopped your writing mid-word as you looked from your phone to the files that were now spread out across your small tablespace.

“Dr. Lecter! Hi! Good evening! Sorry, I was um... caught up in something and didn’t even register who was calling!”

“No need to apologize. I was just wondering if I should still expect you tonight?” You dropped your pen as you frantically looked at the time on your phone. It was 6:15PM. You quickly started to shut the files and stand up muttering a few curse words as you did. “I take it you got distracted?

“Yes! I’m sorry! But I am still coming over as long as the invitation is still good.” You picked up your phone and walked to your room to start to quickly figure out a nice outfit that didn’t look too much like a work outfit or too fancy. “I am getting ready now!”

“As I can hear.” You could almost hear the slight smirk he most likely had on his lips from hearing you fumble around your small space.

“I should be there right around 7 and I’ll explain myself, I promise.”

“I will see you then, my dear.” Hannibal hung up while you were slinging your work shirt into your laundry bin. You couldn’t help the smile that spread as you thought about how he called you ‘my dear.’ You know it's probably nothing more than a common nickname for any woman in Hannibal’s life, but it still felt good to be called something other than your real name.

~~~~~~~~

Somehow you had managed to avoid a lot of major traffic and pull up to Hannibal’s home right at 7 o’clock. He must have heard your engine or seen your headlights because as you got out of your car and made your way to his front door, it was already open with him waiting for you with a small smile on his lips.

“Right on time.”

“Did you doubt me?”

“Never.” Hannibal moved to the side to let you in. You were instantly hit with the scents of whatever he was whipping up in his kitchen.

“One day you’ll have to teach me how to make something really fancy just so I can show off next time I have someone over.” You shrugged off your bag and went to hang it up in the closet, but Hannibal beat you to it.

“Someone like a partner?” He was so good at hiding any sort of inflection in his voice, but you could have sworn that you detected a bit of jealousy. You slightly laughed at the idea of having any sort of romantic partner right now.

“I was thinking more along the lines of my brother. You know I don’t have much of a social life outside work.

Hannibal motioned for you to walk towards the kitchen, you did so and he was right behind you.

This was normal for the two of you. You tried to have a meal or at least coffee together once or twice a week to give both of you a break from whatever the world was dishing out to you that week. You had met as colleagues when you worked together on a project for the FBI. But now you both were in a comfortable friendship. There was a pang in your heart that wanted to explore the idea of being more than friends or coworkers with him, but you doubted Hannibal felt the same. If he did, he wouldn’t show it due to his connection with your brother and out of respect for you. So the two of you continued this dance of being extremely friendly but too scared to make a move or speak up.

You poured yourself a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter as Hannibal reached into the refrigerator for lemon juice and finished up cooking.

“How was your day today?” You ask him, as you take a sip.

“It was alright. Met with patients, got further in a drawing, figured out what to cook for a beautiful lady as a congratulation of sorts.” Hannibal quickly looked up at you as he said the last half of that before turning to the stovetop. You felt a very small blush creep on your neck, but tried to play it cool.

“Congratulations?”

“On your new position. I hope you don’t mind that Will shared that with me today.”

“Did he now?” You couldn’t help the slight negativity in your voice as you looked away and played with your ring. “He is definitely not as happy for me as you are. I’m sure you’re aware that he did not want me to accept Jack’s offer.”

“I cannot tell what he said, but I can tell you that he was rather upset when he came in today.”

“Sounds like my brother.” You took another drink of water, not even noticing that Hannibal had plated dinner until he spoke up.

“Now, if you’d please.” You quickly looked up and saw that he was gesturing to the dining room. You tried to help by grabbing a plate or his cup or something to bring to the table but he just gently ushered you into the next room. He never let you help out when you were over as a dinner guest, but you tried every time.

The two of you sat and began eating. It was a good minute or two of silence before someone spoke up.

“This is delicious, Hannibal! I don’t know what vegetable this is exactly,” you help up a swirly looking green piece on your fork, “but it is amazing with this sauce you’ve made.”

“That is romanesco broccoli. I thought you might like it. It looks intimidating but tastes like the typical broccoli that you normally eat. It's just a bit… Artistic.” He slightly smiled, happy that he could amuse you with new food. You took another bite as Hannibal reached for his wine. Before he took a sip, he asked something that had been on his mind.

“May I ask what grabbed your focus so much that you almost missed out on dinner tonight?”

“Oh, right! Jack apparently already has a killer he wants me to start profiling. He gave me copies of the reports to read up on before I have my first official day tomorrow. I told myself I was just going to read the first one, but then got carried away.”

“Is this the killer that has been targeting doctors?” You gave him a questioning look, unsure of how he knew about the case. “Jack asked for my opinion at the crime scene for Dr.Chaseten a few weeks ago. Considering they haven’t caught anyone, I’m assuming that is what he has you working on.”

“Then you would be correct. There are now three mutilated doctors that have no obvious correlation to each other other than the cause of death and the fact that they are doctors.” You sipped your drink and continued. “I know I’ve only been Jack’s official profiler for less than a day, but it's still biting at me that I don’t see anything yet.”

Hannibal reached over and put a hand on yours to try to rein you back in before you thought too much about the case.

“I’m sure you will have more answers tomorrow.” You smiled and patted his hand, ignoring the slight butterflies you got from the contact. You took a deep breath.

“I know. I shouldn’t get this deep yet. That insanity will hit me tomorrow when I have to brainstorm with Jack.” You smiled even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. You knew Hannibal would pick up on it.

“I think it was Oscar Levant that said that ‘there’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.’ Let’s just hope Jack Crawford won’t erase his line.” Hannibal gave your hand a small squeeze before removing his hand, causing you both to return your attention to your meal.

“You know, we could have rescheduled this dinner if you felt the need to finish your work.” Hannibal was sincere. He understood your work was a major part of your life, but he did like to see you outside the halls of the FBI.

“No! I wanted to come by tonight! Honestly, I needed a mood lifter after today.”

“Oh? How come?” You finished chewing and then spoke your mind. You knew Hannibal was a therapist, but he wasn’t your therapist. So you tried to keep it friendly.

“I should be excited and happy to be starting this new position, but I’m more worried about Will. I don’t want this job to be what divides us, you know? We’re so close, and I am one of the few people that he can be comfortable around. I don’t want to take that from him.” You pause, unconsciously bouncing your leg and fidgeting with your ring slightly. You shook your head as if that would temporarily erase the thought. “I just hope that if I keep working cases, he will get more and more okay with it.” You cut off a piece of fish and ate, letting Hannibal know that you were done speaking.

“I’m sure he will be fine.” You look up to find him staring at you. More like watching you, hyper-aware of your movements that show your anxiety. “But enough about Will.” Hannibal held up his glass towards you. “Here’s to you and your new path in the FBI. May they see you as valuable and wonderful as I do.”

You patted your lips with your napkin and smiled as you clinked your glass with his. Your heart swelled at his words. Why do you do this to me?

The rest of the evening was spent finishing your meal and forcing Hannibal to let you help with the dishes. Afterward, he walked you to your car, as usual, opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

Your drive home was peaceful and you found yourself smiling, thankful for your evening with Hannibal. It was nice to know that someone you cared about was happy for you.

#hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter / reader

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lilysdaydreams · 4 years ago

Text

“But we’re happy (and that’s all that matters)”

Synopsis:

“Taehyung called them the least romantic couple in the world.

otherwise known as five times the boys thought that they were the least romantic couple in the world and the one time Namjoon knew they weren't. ”

A/N : I wrote this a while ago and since I’m going to be getting back into writing, I decided to post it here. I hope you enjoy 💛 (I’m posting from my phone so the formatting might suck sorry)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung called them the least romantic couple in the world.

At 11.00 pm on a Tuesday night, the seven members of Bangtan were all sitting in a circle in the middle of their living room. “Descendents of the Sun” was paused on the TV and Namjoon rolled his eyes when they fell upon it. Taehyung was once again mourning the breaking up of the song-song couple for the 8th time that year. Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the boys sitting in a circle. Namjoon had called a group meeting 10 minutes ago on their kakao chat, saying that he had “something important” to discuss. Most of the boys were in the living room so they only had to wait for Hoseok to finish showering and now it had been exactly 1 minute and 43 seconds of absolute silence.

Jin finally broke the silence, looking up from his phone and aiming an exasperated look at Namjoon. “What is it?” He demanded, putting the phone into his pocket.

Namjoon clenched and unclenched his hands for something to do. He wasn't that nervous, he knew none of the boys would have huge reactions or hate them or anything but it was still a little nerve racking.

“Um, I have something to tell you” he finally managed to get out. A cough from his side made him look up into Yoongi's face, whose eyebrows had ridden up in question. Oh right.

“Sorry. Um, we have something to tell you” he said pointing to Yoongi and himself. Yoongi moved slightly closer to him, not touching but close enough that his presence managed to somewhat calm Namjoon down.

Looking around the circle, he could see Jungkook’s confusion and Tahyung, who was leaning on Jimin, looking between them with calculating eyes.

With a deep breath, he decided to just blurt it out.

“Yoongi and I are dating.”

There were a few seconds of silence and then,

“Huh” said Hoseok, leaning back onto the leg of the couch and flickering his eyes between them both. “I don’t see it’

That broke the rest of the boys out of their shock and suddenly all of them were talking at once.

“What? No way!” yelled Jimin, his eyebrows raised high. At his side, Jungkook simply cocked his head as if he was confused as to how this could happen. Taehyung had stuttered over “w-wait what?” as Jin had started laughing and then stopped when he realised they were being serious.

5 minutes later, Hoseok was still muttering about “how he just didn't see it”

Namjoon furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, you dont “see it”” he said making his fingers into bunny ears to emphasize the words.

“I mean, you're not that affectionate y'know. I’ve never seen you and Yoongi hug or cuddle, not like Jimin and Jungkook do at least.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Nmajoon shrugged, “It’s not like being affectionate is the most important part of relationships. We respect each others space and we know that we’re there for each other. If you think about it, showing love through grand gestures is mostly for the societies benefit. Most of the time couples only do big romantic gestures because they have this pressure on them to be romantic and to show that they're in love, which is even more highlighted due to the amount of romance dramas and sho - “

Jin threw a pillow at Namjoons head, effectively getting him to shut up.

And that was that.

Namjoon rolled his shoulders and groaned as the sound of cracking bones filled the studio. It was 4 in the morning and his eyes were struggling to stay open. Deciding to call it a day, he rolled his chair over to the couch where Jungkook was laying half on the couch and half on the floor. A kick to the shin and the half that was on the couch had also fallen on the floor.

“Get up, let's go home” Namjoon mumbled, shaking his legs to get rid of the pins and needles. Jungkook groaned and started stuffing the papers on the table into his backpack. He had been here for the past 4 hours with Namjoon, trying to finish the song he had been stuck on for a few weeks now.

They ran the five minute walk from the studio to the dorm, arriving in 3 minutes instead. The warm air enveloped them and Jungkook immediately went into the kitchen to rummage for food.

“Hey hyung” said Namjoon to Yoongi, slipping into the armchair closest to him and grabbing the blanket on the floor. The scene was extremely similar to the one in the studio. Yoongi was sitting on the floor, with scrunched papers all around him and a pen in his mouth. Grunting in response to Namjoons greeting, he rolled his shoulders and rested his head back onto the couch.

“You know, I don't get it.”

Namjoon tilted his head back to look at Jungkook, who was holding half a banana and staring at them both in confusion.

“Don't get what?” muttered Yoongi, starting to gather the papers around him.

“It's been three months since you guys came out about you dating, and I have never seen you hold hands!” said Jungkook, his voice getting higher at the end.

Namjoon exchanged a bewildered look with Yoongi.

“Are you like just shy? Or do you just never wanna hold each others hands?” he said furrowing his brows.

“Well” Namjoon began hesitantly, “What's the point?”

When Jungkook continued to stare at him, he hastily added “I don't need to hold his hand to show everyone we’re in a relationship.”

“That's not the point! It's not marking each other or something, it's just wanting to be near each other because you love each other.”

Yoongi grunted from where he was putting all the papers in the bin. “We’re in the same room. And we literally live together. We’re practically together 24/7.”

Jungkook groaned and stalked off to his room, muttering about stupid idiots and how he shouldnt have bothered.

They don’t kiss hello or goodbye. They don't cuddle much either and are perfectly happy to ignore each others presence for a few hours.

“Why are you even together?” Jimin demanded after spending a week sharing a hotel room with them. They had come to shoot a magazine cover, just the three of them, for their upcoming collaboration, and the company had just booked a bg suite for all three of them.

“What’re you on about?” yawned Yoongi as he took another sip of his coffee. Namjoon stood up to grab him another one as he saw Yoongi throw the plastic cup in the bin. He could probably make decaf so that Yoongi wouldn't be up the whole night.

“For all the romance you have, you might as well go back to being friends. You can sit in the same room and sit in silence without needing to be in a relationship.” Jimin continued, drinking his protein shake from the straw. It was green and had black dots in it and Namjoon was gagging just looking at it.

“Cmon Jimin” he muttered, trying to find the sugar in the cupboard.

“No, I'm serious!” countered Jimin. “You sit on the sofa, Yoongi's at his desk and you don't speak to each other for hours - you may as well be alone, not in love. I swear, I haven't seen you kiss all week. Are you sure you want to be in a relationship? I'm speaking as a friend, I don't want you to sell yourself short, or just be in a relationship because it's convenient.”

Two pairs of eyes glared at him as if daring him to keep going.

“You’re an idiot” said Namjoon exasperatedly, placing the coffee cup by Yoongi as he walked by and slumping onto the sofa. “How would I get any work done if all I did was hug and kiss Yoongi. How would he be able to compose if I just held his hand all the time?”

“Oh forget it, you're both hopeless.” Jimin muttered, turning back to his phone.

Namjoons phone pinged a second later, lighting up with a new message.

MIN : i can literally taste the difference between decaf and caf, youre not subtle.

Namjoon smiled.

“Are you just like, really kinky in bed?”

Yoongi choked on a piece of watermelon, tears automatically coming to his eyes. Thumping him on the back, Namjoon glared at Jin from over Yoongi's shoulder.

“What the fuck?” He hissed at Jin, as Yoongi caught his breath and started to also glare at Jin.

“Don't swear at me, I'm your hyung.” Jin retroted without any heat and then took another bite of his ice cream tub. They were supposed to be on a diet but Jin had decided that he would just go to the gym and burn extra calories in the morning. Yoongi and Namjoon had both exchanged a look at that. The excuse had been used the past 3 days and Jin hadn't even made it to the elevator in the mornings.

“I mean, your sex life has to be really kinky right? You're so vanilla in front us, I bet you’re freaks in th -” Two cushions smacked him in the face causing him to drop the ice cream tub and then scrambel to pick it up so it didn't drip on the carpet.

“Yah!” he wailed as he picked up the tub and started fussing over it, forgetting about Yoongi and Namjoon.

They don't celebrate Valentines Day.

A few days earlier, Taehyung and Yoongi had been sitting in the living room. Yoongi was on his phone and when Taehyung had called out a tentative “Hyung?” he had looked up and raised his eyebrows at him.

“What are you getting Namjoon hyung for valentines?” he had asked more excitedly, now knowing that he wasn’t annoying Yoongi.

Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed for a second. “Nothing,” he said, turning back to his phone. “We don't celebrate Valentines Day”

“Why?” asked Taheyung, a pout clear on his face. How could they not celebrate Valentine's Day? It was the day of love and romance and couples practically lived for it.

Waving a hand, Yoongi just muttered “ask Namjoon”, already sucked back into whatever game he was playing.

5 minutes later, Taehyung regretted asking at all.

“Valentine's Day is simply a consumer oriented holiday that puts pressure on couples and their relationships. It's a capitalistic holiday that signifies that material goods are more important than emotio -”

+ 1

(Despite what Jungkook had seen or not, they do hold hands. When the Grammy nominations come out, they hold hands under the table, intertwined in such a way that Namjoon can't tell which fingers are his. Jimin might think they don't kiss, but he isn't there at one in the morning, when Yoongi's lips press lightly over Namjoons. They press on one cheek and then the other and then on his nose, his eyes, and finally a soft kiss, placed on his forehead, with Yoogni breathing out the words “I love you” before he settles down to sleep next to him. They tell Jin that whatever they do in the bedroom, is no ones business except their own. In truth though, they don't do much that would be interesting for him. They make love, Namjoon being gentle and caring and repeating “I love you” at least 50 times throughout the entire ordeal. They don't celebrate Valentines day, but they do celebrate their anniversary. Yoongi sneaks him out to the convenience store and they get banana milk and sit at the edge of the curb, their sides pressed against each other, speaking in whispers. They smile as they remember being here one year earlier, promising to themselves to try.)

Taehyung called them the least romantic couple on earth.

Namjoon knew he was wrong.

#bts #sugamon #namgi #fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon #RM #suga #yoongi #namjoon x yoongi #Kim namjoon x min yoongi #bts fic #lilywrites

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veiljumpernyssa · 4 years ago

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How do you keep your motivation up for writing fan fiction? I am trying to write my first fan fiction for Tale of Genji and finding motivation is extremely difficult for me. I noticed you wrote 9 chapters for your dragon age fan fiction, how did you do it?

Hey! Thanks for the message. First things first -- motivation isn’t always kept up in this house. The timeframe between Chapter 8 and 9 of my fic is about 5 months 😅 but considering I was in the middle of a very strict lockdown last year due to COVID, I’m trying to give myself a break.

Okay this is going to be long and I’m going to ramble about my own fic as an example too. Hopefully that’s okay and I can give some good tips.

Here are my tips for keeping up the momentum of a longfic:

1. Make a story outline. I know some people like to wing it, but I have ADHD and require structure and medication to function, so that just doesn’t work for me unless it’s a drabble, and even then, I still do a loose outline.

I find it most helpful to start with a broad overview of what kind of story you want to tell, or the purpose of the story. Do you want to write a romance? Do you want to write characters going on an adventure? Do you want to develop a specific character or OC?

For example, for Sulevin Ghilana Hanin (the Dragon Age fic you mentioned, excuse me while I plug it) I want to cover the time Nyssa spent with the Inquisition and the role zie played in certain events during 9:40 - 9:42, as well as set hir up for where zie’s at for Dragon Age 4. Within that timeframe I wanted to develop hir character and examine hir complex relationships with Solas, hir clan and Fenris, writing a follow-up to the previous fic, By Any Other Name. So it’s sort of a blend of romance and slice of life, with some intrigue. We all know who and what Solas is now, but I want to delve into what zie thinks of him and what he thinks of hir. It will be relevant when DA4 rolls around, so I’m setting the stage using what info we know now to develop hir further when we learn more.

I assume you know the basics like how to construct a basic plot or w/e. Once you have a loose idea of the beginning, middle and end, you can break it down chapter by chapter.

One thing to keep in mind is while it’s good to have a story outline IMO you don’t have to go nuts with overplanning every chapter down to the detail. My own chapter plans range from a detailed point by point list of events (Chapter 8, Red Letter Redoubt) to a loose general idea (Chapter 5, Tarasyl’an Te’las) to literally one sentence (Chapter 4, All New, Faded For Her).

It also helps to figure out the purpose of the scene or chapter, especially if you’re writing a character development fic, or an intrigue/mystery. For example, some chapters I’ve written have just been slice-of-life or filler, where I’ve written about Nyssa settling in to Skyhold and getting to know hir new associates. Other chapters have been specific events that I write for foreshadowing or development for Nyssa. Sometimes it’s hir learning about hirself; sometimes it’s hir being challenged specifically.

I feel like this is really important to keep momentum. If you know where the story is going, all you have to do is write it to get there.

2. Write longhand. Obviously you don’t have to if you can’t or don’t want to write with a pen and paper, but this is personally what I do cause unless I’m editing an existing chapter, I can’t focus on it. Writing longhand always helps me get my thoughts down.

3. Set up a designated writing space. If you’re at home, maybe you can set up a desk or a nook or w/e. I personally don’t tend to write much at home and prefer to go out.

The last year or so, I’ve been going to a local park and writing in the fresh air, and it’s been good for inspiration. Prior to that I also went to cafes and sat. I could spend a few hours and bang out a few pages. If you go though, at least buy a drink every hour. Don’t be that guy.

Wherever you are, make sure there’s no distractions, or you have headphones with music or ambient noise (I like Rainy Mood as it helps me focus). Have some water and maybe some snacks, but also make sure to take breaks and stretch. Wrist exercises are important if you’re writing longhand.

4. Be kind to yourself. If you don’t get the writing you want done in one or two days, don’t feel bad. The world is in a very bad state right now and I feel like collectively our mental health is at an all-time low. It’s okay if you don’t write as much as you want in a day or a week or even a month. Hell, I literally just went 5 months without updating, and I struggle with my brain every day. My brain tells me that nobody cares about my characters or my writing (or art etc) and that I may as well not bother. Sometimes I listen. Other times I say ‘fuck you brain’ and do it anyway.

Hope this helps! Good luck on your fic!

#Anonymous

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tracle0 · 4 years ago

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hello hey hi and a splendid saturday to you, I come bearing a question for the wip4 gang and that question is: what is each of their most significant memories? additionally, are there any memories they would jump at the chance to get rid of? ok bye please have an excellent day \o/ (and before you yell at me I'm going to sleep now I swear)

I’m glad that when you even LOOK at me you think ‘oh sleep time’ I am Pavlov and you are my dog and this metaphor is stupid I will answer your question now

I’m gonna... assume this is uhh pre-story question because I know for a fact that at least three characters would change their answer to at least one question if it was post-story. My house, my rules.

Keaton’s most significant memory is p r o b a b l y the time when he was in year 12 (17), and he was called to the head of sixth form office. He’d been at this school since year 7 (11), and had realised he was trans in year 8 (12/13), and had then been fighting for the right to use his bathroom ever since. This had previously resulted in punishment. In year 10 (15), he made progress, being allowed to use the disabled bathroom, but he wanted the men's bathroom dammit.

Anyway, called to head of sixth form, assumed it was related to that issue. Pessimistic about the whole ordeal.

Turned out there was another student in like year 9 who had come out as trans as well, and the school had gone ‘UHHHHHHHHH LET’S DO BETTER THIS TIME’ so Keaton, being the only other trans student in this rural Norfolk school, was assigned as her... mentor??? I guess?

He was half like ‘fuck y’all’ and half like ‘I will not let this young woman go through the same shit you all put me through, I will guard her like a HAWK’. He was still not allowed to use his bathroom, but he makes her fight a little easier; she’s allowed to use her bathroom in year 10, after he left. They still meet up every now and then for coffee.

Memory to be rid of: First day on a Professional Set, he walked backwards whilst taking a tea order and fell into a bin. Terrible first impression. He still got jobs afterwards, but sometimes people will be like ‘oh yeah I’ve heard of you you’re the bin guy’ and he wants to punch them.

This is getting long already I’m gonna put the rest under a cut

I know you’re here for Mika so I’ll go to them, most significant memory: probably his first pride? He didn’t intend to go to pride, but he was in the city on the day of pride and just walked past all these rainbows and flags and people being so open and proud and themselves. He was maybe fifteen, and had been having those fun Gender Feels that you try and hide at age fifteen, because you’re only fifteen and most people tell you you’re not old enough to know anything about yourself, yknow?

Someone gave him a flyer at one point, and when he got back to his Ultra Christian Household, he hid it and would read through it some nights. When he had it memorised, he started to explore more about queerness online. He’s the guy who can tell you all about LGBT history due to this research. This was only done in the city on the library computers, where his trail couldn’t be tracked. It gave him some sort of start for labels, some sort of safe space, some sort of New Approach to everything he’d been feeling.

Memory to be rid of: last day in Ultra Christian School. He was raised Catholic and went to Catholic school and it wasn’t awful until he was about fourteen, at which point he started to grow his hair. They told him to cut it constantly. He was punished for it. He kept the hair.

It got bad but it wasn’t until he was about seventeen that it really buckled; first real notable psychotic episode. He told people, they were convinced it was some sort of possession, convinced he’d sinned, convinced of all these horrible things about him and drove him out until he could ‘act normally’ again. He did not go back.

In all honesty, the second he turned 18, he took his savings from various dead grandparents and a part-time job, bought a second-hand (maybe third-hand) camper-van and left home.

He goes back for Christmas only.

Mooooving on, Lynne! Who I do not talk about enough; she’s also part of the documentary squad, and actually the reason the whole squad exists. Producer and director, she’s very cool okcoolthanks

Most significant memory: That one time she was thirteen and her parents had officially declared their divorce. She was living with her dad and it was really, really weird and she was not enjoying it. Divorce is a big deal to some families, and this family was one of them, and she was really unsure about her entire future.

Cue Mika, young and mostly obedient, kicking down the door (not literally) and kidnapping her (again, not literally) to come pick blackberries with him (very literally). They stayed out until the sun went down in early Autumn. She forgot about the divorce for a small amount of time. They ended the day eating fish and chips straight from the paper whilst sitting in a tree and talking about nothing important at all.

They made jam out of the blackberries the next day. It was gross. Both of them refused to admit it was gross.

Memory to be rid of: She went camping one time with friends from school. Lynne is Muslim and so did not go to Catholic school with Mika, they just lived near each other, and so school friends went ‘hey we’re going camping you should come’ she did come.

It was a mess. They were fifteen and determined to drink, and English peer pressure to drink is weird, so she did take some drink but didn’t drink it. Someone threw up on her tent and blamed it on her. No-one bought any food or water, the only thing she was able to drink was lemonade bought for mixing and that had ants in it within two hours.

She woke up first and left them all there, then walked home because she was meant to be lift-sharing. It took an hour and a half. She preferred that to being in the car.

That group wasn’t her only group of friends, but it was her main group, so things were awkward for a while.

Moving on from Documentary Squad, Percival! Percy Percival who I wish I could call Percy because it’s so much easier to write.

Significant memory: winning an art contest when he was like. Eleven. Really living the high-life, ol’ Percival. It was a city-wide contest, with various age categories. He was part of the 11-18 clump, which put him at a disadvantage, but he still won. As a reward, his art was replicated on a mural in one of the shopping malls in town, and he got some fancy vouchers for a fancy art shop in the city.

Winning the art contest made him go ‘oh wait I’m actually good at this thing I really like doing I should learn how to do that more’ and you could barely pry him away from his sketchbook from that point on.

Those vouchers were stored away until he was 14 and doing art GCSE, at which point he bought a nice sketchbook and oil paints. He’s now very good at oil painting. I hate him for being good at oil painting. Oil painting SUCKS.

Memory to be rid of: I’m torn between three and they’re all similar so I’ll go for all of them.

#1 - losing an eye to Abby’s experiments. You read the lil short story I think (I know I checked just now) - she’s a very kind and loving sister who sometimes moves his body parts around. One time, he lost an eye and went blind for a few weeks. He had nightmares about it for months. It was very painful.

#2 - losing a finger. To Abby’s experiments. It was the middle finger on his left hand and it didn’t go back into place quickly enough - now it’s always numb and discoloured. Good news is he’s right-handed and not a musician so no worries about losing dexterity on that hand.

#3 - losing two ribs. To Abby’s experiments. There’s a very clear trend here. She wanted to try moving things she couldn’t see around. She moved two ribs away. She decided it was more dangerous to put them back. Now they just have two of Percival’s ribs lying around.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

On that note, final person, this is very long. Abby! She’s fun. Most significant memory;

okay the word ‘significant’ has caught me off-guard several times cause like wow how do you figure out significant memories for people. I don’t have just one, yknow? But I think I know one for her.

She’s the eldest out of her and Percival and, for a while, people wanted her to set an example for him, which she tried to do, but she wasn’t good at what people wanted her to be good at. She’s good with people. She’s good at very specific parts of biology. She’s good at psychology. She’s not good at school and tests.

So, when Percival started to beat the standards she set for him, her parents almost... egged competition on. Played favourites, compared the two siblings. Nobody really noticed what she could do, they only cared about what she struggled with. And the parents were rarely around to help out with what she was struggled with. So she struggled on and tried to keep her head high.

Cue a family wedding, she was snooping around the snack table at the reception and overheard her parents talking about her. And how they were almost disappointed in her. How they were annoyed that she couldn’t be more like Percival, honestly, what did they do wrong?

She got bitter. She pretends she doesn’t care but she’s bitter, and with no parents around to lash out at, she lashes out at Percival, who isn’t even aware. Good times. Not good times. Significant times.

Memory to be rid of: Honestly? Probably hearing her parents talking about her at the family wedding. It stings.

A n y w a y this was extremely long I like going into detail with short stories, if you read this far then thank you I appreciate it I will give you a feather from my feather collection. Probably a swan feather. I have a lot of swan feathers.

#wip4 #keaton #mika #lynne #percival #abby #all five of them wowza #'hey trade are you doing sts should you answer the other questions in your inbox'#I should but I won't I'm going to sleep soon but thank you for asking #this was fun! thank you logan this was helpful and fun and now I know more stuff about the characters

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