#im just still trying to ease myself back into all this its been a long while before this year when i properly interacted especially with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mangozcat · 2 years ago

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— hello dear readers. this story hits a bit closer to home than the rest. this story, while yes it’s a smut for all of you to read and enjoy, is also one for those bigger girls that just don’t feel like they belong. all of the descriptions you’ll find for the oc are descriptions of my own body and how i see it when i look at myself in the mirror. i just want everyone to know, YOU ARE PERFECT! you are beautiful and loved and you shouldn’t worry about if you fit the standards of people around you. if you don’t fit YOUR standards, that’s what matters. if YOU want to cause change, go for it! but don’t allow others to make you feel the need to change, because you are lovely as you are!!! i love your big thighs and tummy that causes a little bulge if you wear high wasted jeans. i love your smile and your messy hair with split ends. i love your boobs!! (that sounds bad im sorry) and theyre NEVER too big or too small. don’t be ashamed to wear extra big bras or extra big clothes and don’t get yourself down. i love you :)

tw: unhealthy body image

w: softer smut (meaning it isn’t entirely complete and has an open ending for ur imagination), praise, big-bodied reader (so the descriptions during smut are to fit her body so it might be hard to imagine yourself as her), jealous reader, you might dislike this reader because she has a lot of insecurities but tbh i find her realistic lmfao, body worship, jaem is like legit hottest painter ever pls, sexual tension is real oml, slow, unprotected bc like jaemin cum inside is so hot i cry every time, very long but it didnt need to be, i havent written in months pls be nice this might be awful

ok just to like clarify, im still trying to get back into smut so this is more of an easing into it? its quite long and most of it is just story + teasing, sorry to leave anyone hanging :( i just wanna kinda ease back into it, but i still think this is pretty hot tbh lmao

jaemin’s good at painting.

you recognized his talent the day you met him; varying shades of pink and purple mixing with the bright yellow shades and orange hues that created a beautiful sunset. you’d seen it on his canvas that he was carefully dragging up the stairs of the sweet and small cafe across from your college.

then, you saw that same colorful piece strung proudly on the wall behind your favorite table, or well, your now favorite table.

your favorite ever since the painting had been placed there.

he’s gifted; has a talent that few have and/or ever will have within their lifetime, regardless of practice. the saying might be practice makes perfect, but you know no amount of practice will make a painter as perfect as jaemin is.

his brush strokes are soft, yet precise, and he blends color effortlessly. in all your combined hours of watching him work, you’ve never once seen him make a mistake. all of his work turns out perfect, breathtaking, and you’re never not in awe of his abilities.

today, however, you’ve discovered a new talent of his.

body painting.

something you never thought you’d be interested in, yet here you are, watching as his brush draws elegant lines across the toned stomach of his model. her breasts are on full display and while you’re fascinated by the scene, you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy underneath.

her face remains blank, eyes closed in relaxation and body completely still aside from the occasional ticklish twitch. you wonder how she remains so effortlessly composed, even while knowing that such a beautiful man has his hands so close to every area she typically hides from the outside world, and his eyes darting across every expanse of beautiful pale skin.

not to mention, her body is beautiful, and this is something you cannot deny. she has thicker thighs, though still remaining on the smaller side. her arms are small, but laced with some muscle from her obvious workout routine. her stomach has little fat, though still enough to remind prying eyes that she is, in fact, healthy and eating well. she has perky breasts, but they’re smaller and more fitting to her form, with tiny nipples that stand right up every time jaemin’s brush dances over her chest.

and her face- oh, her face. plump lips and rosy cheeks, hazel eyes, deep brown hair pushed back into a low bun that leaves a few stray strands to frame her face.

jealousy.

there’s that twinge again.

the feeling of anger and envy and desperation all mixed into one, laced thickly with insecurity. insecurity because you know- you know you’ll never compare to her model physique.

korean beauty standards are tough, and yet, that girl seems to fit all of them without trouble. however, as you glance down at your stomach, seeing the bulge in your shirt from where the lower half of your abdomen juts out and rests over the band of your jeans, tears fill your eyes. you know you have big thighs, thighs that shake and jiggle and erupt a loud pop! when you slap them. you know you have sunken eyes from lack of sleep and overwhelming anxiety and puffy cheeks. you know your hair has split ends and is unevenly cut at some lengths, and you know your breasts are larger than others.

you wish you didn’t think like this, but when allowed time to think and remain trapped in your own head for long enough, you have no choice. you don’t fit the standards, you don’t fit jaemin’s standards, and you doubt you fit the standards of anyone in the world.

you hadn’t been paying attention for the remainder of jaemin’s session- not that you wanted to- and had begun to drift off. soon enough, when you heard jaemin and his model begin to converse quietly, almost as if they were trying to make sure you couldn’t hear, you figured your mind was slowly killing you and simply murmured out need fresh air, before you were scurrying out of the room.

there was something unsettling about being in love with an artist. someone that could find beauty in everything and anything, and make the best out of the worst situation.

but when being in love with an artist, among several other insecurities, one always lingered longer than others.

could he find the beauty in you?

if jaemin did feel the same way about you as you felt about him, could he find a way to fix the imperfections? could he repair the broken image you’d been looking at in the mirror for years? could he find a way to mend all the pain, close all the wounds, and top off the scars with pretty, punctual bows as opposed to what you had now: ragged and mangled skin?

of course, it’s all hypothetical, and it all comes back to two questions. could he love you? could he find the beauty in you?

could he love someone incapable of loving themself, and find the beauty in something that has been left out to rot and rust? the beauty even you cannot seem to find, regardless of how many times you attempt to.

you didn’t realize you were shivering. the air was frigid and windy, and you were sure your cheeks had turned a rosy pink due to the exposure. you felt a cough bubble up in your throat and hugged yourself tighter, eyes staring up at the sky.

if jaemin were here, he’d call the sky his blank canvas.

too bad he isn’t- too bad his attention is on the girl with a perfectly sculpted body and a pretty face, and an even prettier voice; and you were sure she had a pretty laugh and a pretty personality to top it off.

jealousy.

“i can’t escape it, can i…” you murmur quietly, referring to the burning feeling blossoming in your gut. a feeling that was traveling through your veins like blood and spreading to every place in your body like wildfire- until it reached your fingertips and you wished you could do something with it.

when you heard his voice, however, it practically fizzled out and you were left frozen once again, lips quivering.

“awfully cold out,” he says, that wistful tone to his voice he seemed to always have. you felt a jacket being placed over your shoulders, and your heart further sank at the idea that it might not fit if you were to attempt to actually wear it.

“you should head back inside, don’t want your pretty face damaged by the cold.”

when hd noticed you weren’t returning his stare, he gently, hesitantly, reached a hand out and cupped your cheek opposite of him. then, as softly as he could, he tugged the skin until you were leaning into his touch, finally meeting his eyes.

“what’s wrong, cherry blossom?”

cherry blossom.

the nickname he’d given you once he discovered your favorite tree- and later created several pieces of art that now adorned your bedroom. the pretty pink petals falling down onto the bright green grass, matched with soft handwriting that read a cherry blossom for my cherry blossom on the bottom.

“she’s pretty,” you muttered, almost disdainfully. you felt awful. here you were, hating on a girl because she was pretty. because no matter how sweet she might be, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s pretty and you don’t think you are- envy has you wrapped around its’ evil finger. “don’t you think?”

“who’s pretty?” jaemin asks curiously, a comforting hand tracing circles into your back.

you withheld a scoff, feeling tears of frustration prick at your eyes. your brown eyes; eyes no match for the beauty of her hazel ones.

“the girl you were painting,” you murmur sadly, trying to ignore the familiar twinge eating away at you.

you didn’t want to compare yourself to the girl, but you couldn’t help it. it happened without you even realizing, and once you figured out what was happening, you were far too gone and the feeling had invaded your mind long enough to twist the facts.

jaemin hums, watching your expression closely.

“well yes, she is pretty,” and once your face falls and your eyes drop to your shoes at his confession, he shakes his head, “but so are you.”

“while she might be the art i painted today, you’re the art i admire every day,” he says slowly, tugging you into his chest. you feel pride swelling in your chest and the tears in your eyes soon turned to tears of indescribable happiness.

“don’t let the fact that i painted her get to your head, yeah?” he whispers, “i really didn’t even look at her unless it was to make sure the piece blended together.”

“she’s just so perfect…” you whimper sadly, “and i guess she just made me realize- well i just felt so ugly next to her.”

you felt a kiss on the top of your head, making your eyes close in content.

“you are not ugly, cherry blossom.”

while you weren’t entirely sure if this entire conversation was a confession of sorts or just friendly reassurance, you didn’t want to overthink it. his words pierced your heart in all the right ways- and you really didn’t want to mess it up.

—

you hadn’t seen jaemin do any more body painting work- or even mention the topic- in a month. he seemed so passionate about it, so his sudden disinterest was shocking to you.

of course, you appreciated it considering you were his assistant and ended up watching him work 99% of the time.

but, still, you did worry deep down.

what if you crushed one of his dreams with your own selfish insecurities?

you still remember when he came running into your apartment with a book on body painting, rushing to explain the art. you really hadn’t understood a word he said at the time, too invested in admiring that one look he always adorned when he was obsessed with something.

and obsession that you envied at the time- could he ever be that obsessed over you?

at some point, could you fill his mind like he filled yours? invade his senses like he invaded your own? if you had one aspiration in your entire lifetime, this would be it: wishing to be someone’s- no, not just anybody’s, you wanted to be na jaemin’s obsession.

a feat that definitely isn’t simple or easy, for that matter.

“have you seen my thin brush?” jaemin suddenly screeches, running into the living room of his (practically yours, too) apartment. “the small one with the angled tip and black bristles?”

your mind blanked. you glanced around at the coffee table, the end tables, and the television stand before scratching your head, “not that i can recall, no.”

“shit,” he cursed, scratching his neck anxiously, “need that brush.”

“okay, this might sound stupid,” you begin, your words slow, “but do you have any extras?”

he shakes his head sadly, as if you’ve scolded him for something he promised he’d do, and later forgot about. “it’s the only brush i didn’t buy an extra of. i always keep it on my desk i didn’t think- i didn’t believe i could lose it!”

“hey, it’s alright, okay?” you whispered, raising from your spot on the couch to approach him in hopes of comforting the clearly confused and upset boy, “i’ll help you find it.”

he looked up at you, his chest heaving from panic-stricken breaths and he frowned, “yeah, yeah- okay.”

with one final comforting pat on the shoulder, you set out to jaemin’s painting room to try and find the brush. you knew which one he was talking about with the descriptions, but if it’s the same you think it is, it’s incredibly small- which will undoubtedly make it tough to find.

in the painting room, as you call it, things look… normal. just like any other painter’s workspace.

jaemin has a board to display his sketches; all hanging up by a tack and some of the pieces are scattered at odd angles. his floor is covered in tarps to protect the wood beneath, and you take note of the paint stains adorning the white material that made loud noises with every step. he had a massive canvas resting against the furthest wall, with varying shades of colors being messily thrown against the piece. perhaps that messy feel was the very thing that made it artistic in his eyes. glancing around, you noticed how every wall had little space on it, instead covered with pieces of his own work and the work of his favorite artists. then, he had a giant table shoved against the wall. there was a case laying open on top, showcasing all of his different brushes; and next to it, an array of paint tubes and cans. even more paint was beneath the table, stacked until it was touching the wood. finally, against the other wall, was his desk. the chair was pulled out at an angle, one you imagined he sat at to think, rather than be crammed up against his desk. stacks of unfinished sketches were lazily strewn around, with a few brushes between the pages. you checked each of them in hopes that the missing brush was here all along, yet you came up empty handed.

while jaemin’s desk was intriguing- well, the entire room was intriguing; all messy and yet still organized in a way only he could understand- you found yourself more interested in one of his sketches. it was another body painting sketch, but this one was… different. the figure had bigger hips and thicker thighs, large breasts, a softer circular face, with a slightly defined jawline, and her tummy was jutting out just enough for you to know: she was you.

jaemin was drawing you.

something about it made you happy, yet sad at the same time. he’d drawn all your flaws, hadn’t he? the lack of a thigh gap, the big belly, the bigger than usual breasts; everything that you were insecure about, jaemin had noticed.

in fact, he seemed to have perfectly mimicked the details. something about the situation made your eyes water sadly.

“you weren’t supposed… to see that,” jaemin sighs, eyes darting nervously across the room. you turn your head to look at him, blinking back tears. “it’s just a sketch i had for some body painting i just- i don’t know, i never finished it.”

“i was gonna ask you before that night but then i realized you probably wouldn’t want to do it.”

confidence was something you lacked, in here, standing across from jaemin in this moment, you felt like you could shrink. so it was true, he had been painting you? it was your body he imagined on full display for him as he painted, and it was your body he made adjustments for to fit, to encourage confidence and comfort.

confidence wasn’t your friend, however, jealousy most certainly was. if you didn’t take him up on his offer, would that pretty girl return to be painted again? would the art meant for your body fit hers as well as jaemin had planned for it to fit you? would it perhaps… fit her even better?

“i’ll do it,” your own voice is unrecognizable to you; raspy in anticipation and shaky from fear. “i’ll be your model, jaemin.”

his face flushed pink and he averted his gaze, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “are you sure? it’s a lot of pressure-“

never again would you let pretty girl be jaemin’s model. never.

“i’m sure,” you said, a bit too eager.

“alright, well, we can plan a date and time, let me just grab my calendar-“

it was almost sinful how badly you wanted to be bare in front of your best friend. the best friend you desperately wished to be your lover, the best friend that also happens to be your boss, and the best friend you couldn’t live without.

this won’t change that, right?

you failed to think any further, beginning to slip out of your jacket and beginning to hastily pull the bow from the top of your blouse. with his back turned as he rummaged through his desk for a notebook, you only had one prayer running through your mind: hopefully jaemin doesn’t hate you for stripping down.

“i have an opening on the 12th, the 18th, and the 19th,” jaemin says, turning around, “the times are pretty close but i can try to move things around and adjust it to your n-“

“ah…”

his breathy little whisper has you frozen to the ground, eyes trained on the blue paint stain on the tarp beneath you. a baby blue, one you could get lost in and pretend as if you weren’t down to nothing but a bra and your fiery red underwear.

nervously, you scratched at the skin of your arm and painfully dug your fingers into the skin. he could see you- albeit not all of you- and you were completely open to his judgment.

“what about right now?” you murmured, eyes flitting up to meet his piercing stare.

they were respectful, remaining trained on your face and only your face- something you realize just how much you appreciated in the current moment. however, his stare was strong, yearning, and you found yourself looking right back down at the ground.

jaemin took a slow step forward, then another, and another, and each step made your body jump nervously and your heart beat erratically. it was only when a shadow cast itself upon that baby blue splotch on the floor did you peel your eyes back up.

at first, you avoided his eyes. you stared at his pretty cheeks, his neckline, his cute nose, and even his lips (which you got far more lost in than you care to admit).

then, as if he had discovered your tactic, he put a comforting hand under your chin and demanded you to look up with one gesture.

his eyes were soft. sweet melodies mixing with cherry blossom trees and their falling petals stared down at you, like a scene brought forth from a movie. it played in his eyes, slowly at first, then with a faster pace, and soon enough, you’d been sucked into the movie he’d created with just a glance.

dark brown met your orbs, swirling with curiosity and fear, before the tidal wave ensued and you felt like you were drowning.

drowning in him.

“can i paint you, cherry blossom?” jaemin asked sweetly, but the sultry tone in his voice had you weak in the knees. you tried not to overthink it, but the question was swirling with meanings unbeknownst to you, and the potential knowledge of it all had you excited for what was to come.

your response came out at a quiet whisper, so low that you worried if he even heard it to begin with, “yes.”

one of his hands wandered down to your hip, comfortingly tracing circles into the skin. his finger trailed up, erupting a flurry of tingles from the point. you shivered at the sensation, swallowing thickly. his finger went up and up until it ran into the fabric of your bra, and both of you stilled.

“can i take this off?” he asked, breath fanning your face. instinctively, your hand came up to his wrist and squeezed, using him as your anchor to earth- so you didn’t float away because of the bliss he never failed to give you.

nodding meekly, you felt yourself freeze when his fingers raised to toy with your bra straps. it was like he was playing with you; him the predator and you the prey; as he pulled the straps away from your skin and let them smack back against you. it was a shock of electricity and you hummed quietly.

once he deemed his toying sufficient enough, his hands finally ghosted over the back of your bra until they found the clasp in the back. he sent you one final look before you felt his hands tug at the back- and all in one motion, your bra was slipping off your shoulders and down your arms.

he helped the piece of clothing to come off, fingers softly pulling the black straps until it hit the floor with a soft thud.

your eyes remained locked with jaemin’s, preventing his eyes from wandering to the exposed skin of your chest- which, at the given moment, you were dying to cover with your arms.

jaemin took a hesitant step back before turning, heading over to his desk to look at his sketch. he grabbed a container of pink paint and reached over for a thicker brush, twirling it between his fingers as he approached you once again.

the tube made a loud noise when he squeezed it (something you actually appreciated considering it relieved some of the ill feeling that came with the awkward, tension-filled silence) and he applied a bit of the pink paint to the tip of his brush.

you expected it to be cold and uncomfortable, but you were pleasantly surprised once the brush touched the soft skin of your stomach. it was a sensation you’d never felt before, but you breathed in a surprised gasp. it was ticklish at first, the uneven feel of the differing bristle length rubbing against your skin and making you shiver.

you didn’t forget about one of jaemin’s hands on your waist. his hand was big, perfectly cupping your hip and you couldn’t help but look at your position as something more. him leaning into you, eyes darting across your skin as he painted colors upon you. one of his hands cupping you, squeezing on occasion, and fingers thrumming to their own little beat.

it was when he began to paint the skin beneath your breast that things got more heated than you expected. he’d switched to a thinner brush now, purple paint glistening on the tip before he put it to your skin. it was the eye contact he maintained while tracing the underneath of your chest; it was the feel of his breath against your face; it was how your stomach churned uneasily every time you thought about him near you- all of it, it all contributed.

you felt like you were nearing a frenzy. the need to taste his lips on yours, the need to feel his hands- not that stupid little brush- on your skin, the need to feel him in an intimate way you’ve only ever dreamed about with him; you were going crazy.

then, he switched to bare hands, and you knew he knew. he had figured you out by now, you were sure.

dots of yellow paint littered his fingertips and he felt even closer to you than you thought he was previously; close enough to touch if you were only to lean forward just the tiniest bit.

“tell me to stop,” he murmurs, finger beginning to trail circles into the skin of your abdomen. trailing upward in swirling motions before finally, his nail began to scratch sensually at your breast, and yellow painted over pink and purple. “tell me to stop and we end this right now.”

it was like he was begging. voice small and quiet, a desperate hint lacing his tone.

“don’t stop,” you said; the first thing you were confident about in months. you didn’t want him to stop, not now, not ever.

passion.

that’s what kissing jaemin was like. at first, his lips had hovered dangerously close to your own, tempting you to just pucker your own and kiss him. before you could do it, however, he had you under his spell and your lips were trapped against his own. his tongue had completely taken over you, molding with your own before he had you twisted in the feel of him, tangled in him like he was a live vine.

he made you breathless, every emotion mixing with the other until you were falling into him, hands desperately clawing at his neck, his cheek, his chin, until you were sure you’d colored him in your own paint of red marks.

“god,” he murmured against your lips, and finally, he pressed you flush against him. you knew you were covering him in paint and you could feel your breasts push up against his chest, but for once, you didn’t mind.

you felt good. he felt good. everything about the situation felt so fucking good.

“so perfect,” jaemin says softly, squeezing the flesh of your hip. he backed you up until you were against the paint table, shoving his collection of brushes to the side (which, considering he was missing one of his most important brushes, was a pretty big deal) and helping you jump up and onto the newly cleared space.

his hands roamed to your thighs as your lips connected once more, and a surprised gasp was swallowed by him once he slapped your thigh gently. lips traveling to kiss the expanse of your neck, he began whispering against you. you could hardly hear him over your own breathy little sounds, but the words went straight to your heart.

“prettiest girl.”

“so beautiful.”

his hands traced shapes on your thighs, “best thighs. love your thighs- god, i fucking love your thighs.”

you whimpered needily, grasping at his hair.

when he pushed you back against the table, encouraging you to lay down, you somewhat panicked internally at the knowledge that you’re actually about to be bare in front of him, on display for him to judge- or maybe admire.

when he doesn’t do either of those, instead leaning down to kiss down your body, a part of you is conflicted. you’re grateful he didn’t stare because that means he didn’t openly judge you. but at the same time, you wanted his admiring gaze upon your body.

however, he did something much better than that.

applying tiny, sweet little kisses to every inch of skin he crossed, including your breasts, he whispered a praise about everything- and, slowly, you felt yourself relax as your insecurities faded away.

“so soft,” he whispered, referring to your skin.

“do you have any idea how much these drive me crazy?” jaemin nearly growls, raising both hands to cup and squeeze your boobs as he dotted the area with soft, open-mouthed kisses.

you were experiencing an all new high.

tears thickly lined your eyes and sweet wispy moans left your lips. everything was overwhelming, and you were acutely aware of every touch on your skin. his tongue that would occasionally dart out to wet your skin (which he would later blow cool air on and make you shiver). his pillowy lips that danced over your body and left purple marks in their wake. his fingers that dug into your hips and tugged you impossibly closer to him, and snuck their way against your panty line to feel the soft material he’d yet to remove.

“pretty little tummy,” he said softly, gently kissing your stomach until you felt like the butterflies were going to eat you alive from the inside out. his menstruations were sinful, yet his words so pure and innocent.

something you had to remind yourself jaemin was far from.

every time he returned to your lips, you could feel his bulge rub against your clothed pussy and you wanted to scream; to grab hold of him and force him to do what you wanted- needed most.

yet you remained as patient as you could, your fingers drumming idly against his shoulders as a form of distraction.

“you know how long i’ve wanted you, cherry blossom?”

the name seemed so sweet prior, now it was laced with something more. something dark and lustful- something you were beginning to like.

you shook your head in response to his question, feelings his lips attach to the skin of your neck. you leaned your head back and allowed access. with his new angle, he began to nip and bite at your neck, taking your breath away.

“so long,” he nearly whined, pressing himself against you, “can i show you?”

“please…” you cried, grabbing him by his paint-stained shirt and taking his lips with your own greed.

you were grateful you had kissed him, you really were. because the boy was faster than you ever imagined he could be, swiping down your underwear with one swift, easy pull. his pants took a bit longer to free him from, but once he finally did, you had never been more excited for something in your life.

with all of his sweet gestures and his prior praise, your body was practically begging for him. arousal pooled in the underwear that lay discarded in the far corner of the room, and it took moments for jaemin to swipe his hard member against your pussy to gather your wetness.

his fingers played with your opening, slowly easing in and out in the hopes of preparing you for him- and damn was he glad he did, because the string of unending noises you let out in response was nothing short of music to his ears.

“need you,” you whimpered, biting back a moan. “please.”

with that begging look in your eye, who was he to say no? he kissed you hard, passionately, roughly- something you’d always dreamed of, and yet, it paled in comparison to the real thing.

and finally, with a strangled groan, did jaemin slip inside your heat.

what a dream come true.

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cjjohansson · 3 years ago

Text

series masterlist - masterlist

natasha romanoff x reader

summary; you and natasha move forward in your relationship.

word count; 3.1K

warning; SMUT 18+. the full shazam.

an; this chapter contains smut, please read at your own risk. 18+ only

—————————————

♡ you said forever♡

chapter 6 ; i promise with all my heart i love you

— two month later —

the past two months had been a rollercoaster. you and natasha had yet to have fallen out, it shocked everyone how quickly you both fell back into a rhythm of a relationship again after so long. within the first month you had flown back over to the UK with everyone in sorting out your things in your house, you made the decision to move back to the compound. alia was very happy about not having to move back to where she called home, it felt normal moving back. tony managed to sort everything out to be moved and within 2 weeks all of your things were safety confided in the compound. and just like that you were settled back into the compound on yours and nats shared floor. tony had refurbished one of the offices on your floor into a room for alia rather than her staying in your bedroom.

you loved watching alia and natasha interact, it was something that you couldn’t help constantly taking pictures of. you don’t think you had ever seen natasha actually fully worn out before but after some days of alias extreme excitement of going out and doing things with you and nat, you often ended up finding alia asleep on nats chest as natasha slept completely still underneath her. no one believed they had ever seen natasha smile so much other than when she was with alia.

for the first month you had slept separately from natasha, you both wanted to ease back into the elements of your relationship slowly - well as much as you could seeing as you both had alia to look after together- mainly because it was new again but also so alia could adjust more to everything happening around her. you didn’t want to overwhelm her more than you could only imagine you already had.

you wanted to talk to natasha about easing into some other parts of your relationship again but you didn’t know how to talk about them. you hadn’t really had any time just the two of you, alia was always around. you had kissed a handful of time in the past two months but you felt yourself wanting more. you had been without physical contact and attraction that you wanted for 4 years. but how can you go about them conversations when you always had a 3 year old on your hip, it wasn’t easy so you went to wanda, alia and nat were out for the day while you chose to stay at the compound. you made your way to wandas floor in hopes of getting out some much needed girl talk.

——

“i don’t know what you’re afraid of y/n, you’re basically back together so just kiss her? wow i never thought id be having this type of conversation with an adult who literally has a child”

“how can i just kiss her when alia is always there wanda? hey im 4 years out of practice just give me a break okay, its hard trying to put myself back out there especially to someone who knows me”

“how about i have alia tonight. me, her and vision can have a much needed sleep over. is that okay? then you can have some alone time with nat, is that what you want?”

flinging yourself into wandas arms and thanking her over and over with a kiss to her cheek, she laughed as you ran back over to the elevator shouting ‘ill bring her round with some stuff when she is back with nat thanks wands love ya!’ and you were already on your way back to your own floor.

——

you had been busying yourself in your kitchen for hours trying to make you and natasha a nice romantic dinner, you had already showered, shoving your hair into a messy bun and changed into some comfy pyjamas hoping for a chilled evening with her.

“MOMMMMYYYYY”

alias voice comes shouting behind you as you quickly turn in her arms to catch her as she comes sprinting right at you. your laugh echos around the room as natasha follows behind taking in the site of the table laid for only 2 people. your tiny conversation with alia about her day has you telling her she will be spending the night with wanda and vision has her cheering, the relief leaves your body as you tell her to go change into some pyjamas and grab whatever she wants to take down. natasha watches the whole interaction with a smile on her face as you turn back to the stove stirring the sauce for dinner. its as if nat suddenly feels an edge of confidence flow through her as she walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist to pull you flush against her body. you find yourself choking on a moan as you feel her hand drawing circles on your stomach. soft whispering in your ear has you leaning your head back onto nats shoulder.

“i’ll take her down to wanda, when i come back i’ll quickly shower and then im all yours detka. you just stay here and keep looking pretty in these shorts”

her hand moves from your waist to squeeze your arse cheek as she throws a smirk over her shoulder as alia runs into her arms and they walk to the elevator. your heart beats out of your chest from natashas words and actions. you knew she had been wanting to spend some time with you alone but you hadn’t expected her to be as open as she was, your face blushes as the images pour through your brain of what could happen tonight.

——

“thank you for dinner it was wonderful babe”

she stands from her seating moving over to take your empty bowl from in front of you as she leans down to press a kiss onto your cheek. you watch as she makes her way back to the kitchen and puts everything in the dishwasher to be washed later.

“wanna watch a film baby?”

you find yourself not even being able to produce words as you mindless nod in her direction and take her hand that is outstretched in front of her as she drags you over to the couch in front of the tv. her soft hands makes your whole body heat up, the sight of her toned arms in her tank top has you flushing like a teenager with a crush all over again. you can only shake your head in hopes of getting rid of the thoughts going through your brain.

you both find yourself settled into the couch, your side pressed sideways against natashas as her arm fits comfortably over your shoulders and hovers over your boobs.

you hadn’t been paying any attention to the film whatsoever. not when you were this close with natasha and all you wanted todo was attack her with kisses. your body seemed to be vibrating with adrenalin just being next to her.

lips on your neck has you stiffening first, not expecting natasha to have made a move. your body relaxes as she continues kissing up and down your neck slowly. your head moving to the side to give her more access. natashas hand sudden moves down the front of your top as she pulls you further back into her by your boob. your moans fill the room instantly, you hadn’t been kissed or touched like for so long you felt as though you could cum just from this.

you turn around in her arms, straddling her lap as her hands fell to your ass. you moaned out at the object between her legs as you pressed yourself into her. you kissed her neck harshly hoping to leave your marks as she pushed her hips up into yours.

your mind only felt full of natashas, how her hands felt on your hips as you continued to grind against her and kiss her neck.

you move your lips to hers as you start to kiss slowly, you can feel all of the love pour out between you both in this moment. the moment that feels soft and delicate sudden shifts becoming hot and desirable as she pushes her tongue in your mouth.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n”

natashas smirk only seems to rail you up as you move your hands to your hoodie, pulling it off over your head. the sight of you has natasha moaning as she moves her hand from your hips and brushes her thumb over your nipple, you can only whimper in need as your hips start moving frantically on top of her.

you lean forward to whisper in her ear. “please just fuck me already”

that was enough for her to pull you back towards her lips, your hand gripping the back of her head to hold her against you as your tongues fought for dominance, you wasn’t giving in until she pulled your hair making your mouth fall open with a moan and pressing herself in to you. it didn’t feel real, the feeling of natashas lips being pressed into yours as you let out whimpers and soft moans of satisfaction. you wanted to please every part of her.

your hands make the same route of your own as you take off her top and throw her it somewhere in the room, you marvel at her for a second taking her all in. she always was beautiful but seeing her like this always felt different. it always surprised you how her skin would feel so soft in spite of years of torture her body had endured. you wanted too kiss every inch of her skin so she knew how beautiful she was.

your hands squeezed her breasts roughly as you move to start marking her chest, the sounds leaving natashas mouth only making you want her to fuck you even more. her thumbs rubbing over your now hardened buds didn’t falter even in the compromising position, you was like putty in her hands. the persistent grinding of your hips down on natashas strap made you not want to waste any more time, the need to fall apart in her arms instant.

natasha flipped you over, laying you down on the couch. taking her own trousers off as you scurried to remove your own. her strap standing tall over her own stomach had you moaning in place. she places her hips against your core slowly grinding into you as she now moves her head to mark your chest. red and purple bruises littered your chest in a seconds. her grinding stops as she moves her kisses down your body towards your core. she looked down to your core and back into your eyes hesitating.

“are you sure you want this”

“yes! now please fuck me!”

your hips lifting towards natashas face joined your words as you begged for her to fuck you. she felt blinded by the smell of your arousal hitting her senses. she decided not to tease, decided you both had waited long enough for this moment.

she licked a line up from your entrance to your clit, a cry spilling from your mouth at finally being touched made both of you go crazy. natasha circled your clit with her tongue holding your hips down as you tried to case your high you was already so close too. her grip never letting up only making you moan in frustration. she couldn’t stop, you tasted addicting.

she slowly inserted a finger in with ease, your body accepting her easily inside of you. your entrance already spilling with your own juices as she starts pumping slowly, a stark contrast from how her tongue was roughly flicking against your clit, taking her finger out and going back in with two she felt your walls clench around her, curling her fingers inside of you. natasha knew she had hit the right spot when a loud cry left your mouth and you begun fucking yourself against her fingers. your orgasm was rising rapidly as she didn’t let up her actions. natshas name constantly falling from your lips over and over.

“fuck tasha gonna cum.”

“not yet okay”

you could only whine in frustration from being denied. she wanted to taste you more, wanted to see how much more worked up you could get from her being inside of you.

“taste so good y/n fuck.”

“oh fucking hell tash”

your moans turning her on even more as your hands gripped her red hair pressing her further into your core as you roughly ground your hips down onto her tongue, the moans leaving natashas mouth just from your sounds and the taste of you sending vibrations straight through to your clit as she continued to flick her tongue and pump her fingers into you faster and faster.

“cum”

and with that it was as if an explosion went off inside of you. your juices leaking from your entrance onto natashas fingers and chin, dripping from you and onto the couch beneath you.

“that’s it baby, good girl”

she continued pumping slowly helping you ride out your high, when she notices you calming down, she slowly leaves you. a whimper falling from your lips at being left empty. she presses a tender kiss to both of your thighs as she feels you relax onto the couch, tension seeping from your body as she makes her way back up to your face leaving soft kisses on her way back up.

the smirk that lays on her face makes you hungry for more, she can see it in your eyes.

once she is back in front of you it doesn’t take natasha long to kiss you once again, you push her to lay back as you straddles her hips, she can feel how wet your core is as you sit on her stomach continuing to kiss her.

your core presses straight into the strap that lays on her stomach. the moan erupting from deep within your throat as you ground your hips down into her. your slick covering natashas strap instantly. her eyes held darkness but innocence as she looked down at the head on the strap pecking out underneath your core.

her breathe catching as you descend slowly, your lips leaving similar marks to hers down her chest towards her strap. natasha lifted her head up to have the perfect view of you as your lips engulfed her and slowly start bopping your head up and down on her. the sight sending her into a wave of arousal at the way your plump lips looked around the tip. she moves to grab your bun as she lifts her hips up making her strap go deep within your throat. the sight making her moan alone aswell as the strap rubbing against her own core.

“you’re really working for it y/n, shit!”

one of your hands gripping the strap as you continued to circle your tongue around the strap.

your other hand coming towards her stomach scratching down leaving red marks. natasha’s moans filling your ears as she never stopped her movements, popping you up and down along her. you held eye contact while you sucked yourself further down, your nose touching her stomach, the noise from your gagging making her want to fuck you with her strap even more had her pulling you back up towards her by your hair.

natasha aligned the strap up to your entrance as she watched you slowly sink down. a pornographic moan slipping from natasha as she watched you sink halfway down before stopping and looking at her for help. she held your hips and lifted herself up while pushing you down as she bottomed out inside of you roughly. your hands flying to her shoulders to steady yourself as she cursed over and over in russian. moans spilling from you at feeling so full of her.

she moved relentlessly inside of you. you was meeting her thrusts halfway as you jumped up and down her cock. her grip never loosening as both continued meeting thrust for thrust.

“fuck, so fucking deep baby” your words and moans sending her even closer to the edge as her strap rubbed perfectly against her.

“you fuck me so good tash. fucckkk- please don’t stop. please don’t stop”

nat leant forwards taking one of your hardened buds into her mouth. circling her tongue over and over as you grounded yourself into her harder. you was rocking back and forth chasing your high that was fast approaching. she could feel your walls clenching around her strap making it harder for her to push into you, the telltale of your second orgasm fast approaching as your breathing got quicker.

“so fucking tight y/n. you’re a fucking dream”

moans continue to spill out of both of your mouths as you continue to bounce on top of her. her hands gripping your hips, most likely to leave bruises in her wake as she ruts into you just as hard.

“y/n, fuckkk. are you close” she heavily breathed out as you kept rocking back and forth. your head nodding against her as she gripped your hips impossibly tighter.

both of your moans were loud throughout the room, nat pulled you closer to her. your foreheads pressing into one another’s as she continued her assault on her core. everything about this moment with natasha didn’t feel real, like you’d wake up in a second and realise it was all a dream. her consistent moaning of your name sounding like music to your ears.

you both felt your own orgasms approaching fast, the strap having been hitting natashas clit at the right angle all throughout fucking into you.

“cum with me!” she all but shouted as you both continued to rut against each other as your orgasms took over you both.

her hips don’t stop thrusting into you as both your own orgasms take over. her loud moan echoing throughout the room, you’re sure you could cum all over again just by the way she sounds. her body shakes underneath you as you slowly collapsed onto her chest. your lips instantly on her neck as you bite into her while you keep breathing deep and hard as you road out your high, her thrusts slowing down letting the calm take over you both.

she nuzzles her self into your neck pressing gentle kisses up and down until she reaches your ear.

“i am madly and deeply in love with you y/n”

“you promise?” your voice sounding small over the seriousness in her tone.

“i promise with all my heart i love you.”

“i love you too natasha.”

as you lay together on top of the couch laying skin to skin, silence settles over you both as you take in each others words. the sincerity of one anothers love you realise, no matter what has happened and no what what happens you will always somehow end up in each others arms again at some point.

#natasha alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #ysfmasterlist #you said forever series #bbwidowxcwrites #natasha romanoff smut #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natalia alianovna romanova

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glassartpeasants · 3 years ago

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That ending was a stab on the heart from beginning to end I'm gonna steal bob 🏃🏾‍♀️

The One That Got Away

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, death

A/N: Don’t threaten Bob

~~~

The bed felt different after that night.

2 months ago you had caught Shigaraki cheating on you with someone random woman. You stood in the doorway just watching, trying to find the words to say but nothing came out. It’s only when you dropped your groceries and your present to him is when he noticed your presence.

*flashback*

“Shit! (Y/N) it’s not what it looks like-” He tripped over his words. You said nothing as you just looked at him, knowing that no matter how much you loved him that there was nothing that could ever make you forget this.

“Fuck just say something!” You were still silent as you dropped the groceries you were holding. It just wasn’t clicking for you. How could he do this to you? what had you done wrong?

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice seemed to echo throughout the room. Nobody said anything. Until she spoke up.

“Oh my god, Im so sorry! I didn’t know he was taken! Please forgive me.” The girl spoke as she jumped outta bed and started putting her clothes on.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Those words spilled from your mouth before you could actually say anything you meant. The girl had hugged you before saying she was so sorry a final time. Flipping off Shiggy on the way out.

“(Y/N)...i promise we can talk about this.” You just kept looking at him. Those eyes seemed to burn into his soul. He doesn’t think you noticed the tears spilling from your eyes. He was about to say something to you but you started to walk towards him. Thinking he was gonna get hit he just stood still before feeling your part of the bed dip.

He turns around to see you laying there, eyes still open with tears rushing down your face, your clothes of the day still on your body.

Shigaraki tried to put his arms around you but you had hit his hands back. and used your feet to push him to the edge of the bed while you laid clung to the wall.

*flashback over*

Thinking back on it you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. Maybe you were to tired from being busy and running errands for him all day? Did you want it to be a bad dream and hope to walk up to realize nothing ever happened? Whatever the reason was, you weren’t sure but a part of you wishes that you left that night.

Now you sit at the bar, sitting far away from what use to be your boyfriend, not even taking a glimpse of him and he knew it. You just sat in the corner drinking and looking on your phone until a familiar smell approached you.

“Oh hey Dabi.”

“Hey there (Y/N), why aren’t you hanging out with crusty over there? He keeps staring at you and the tension in here could be cut with a knife. It’s been two months and apparently everyone said i should ask what's going on.”

“Im not going near him at the moment. We’re on a break per say.” this seemed to peak Dabi’s interest as he leaned closer.

“Oh? Did crusty do something? Your secret's safe with me, i swear on my soul.” What did it matter if you told Dabi? He already doesn’t respect Shigaraki so why not, plus, so what if that fuck didn’t want anyone knowing, he shouldn’t have cheated when everyone else was sleeping in the base.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you but, 2 months ago I caught Shigaraki cheating on me...” You felt small tears prickle the corner of your eyes. Bringing your hand up to your face you rub it away, hoping to ignore the pain that was banging against your chest.

“What a dick, wanna make him pay?” You look up at Dabi who had a huge grin on his face. You thought about it for a good few seconds before shaking each others hand.

“Once Shigaraki goes out on that mission today, we’ll talk more.” Dabi said before getting up from his seat and grabbing a drink from the bar.

You didn’t know what Dabi had planned but you hoped it would bring Shigaraki the same pain you felt that fateful night 2 months ago.

~~~

You sat on the ground in Dabi’s room as he paced back in forth, coming up with revenge plans. All of them sucked or ended up with you guys might going to Jail.

“New plan, everytime Shigaraki wants to hang out tell him you had plans with me and leave the room. You can go somewhere and i’ll go somewhere with you. Effectively ditching him.” Thinking, you try to come up with all the pros and cons this proposal Dabi shared with you. But soon your hurt over ruled the logical side of you and you agreed to it not a moment later.

“Great! Now all we need is for Shigaraki to ask to hang out with you. Don’t know how long that’ll take though...”

“I usually ignore him after what happened but sometimes he asks to hang out with me whenever its a slow day at the base or if he’s bored.”

“ Well guess we have to wait tell then huh?” Nodding your head, you get up before putting a thumbs up in his direction. You walked out of his room and see Shigaraki sitting at the bar. He must have finished his mission early. You rolled your eyes before sitting on the other side of the bar counter. You could feel shigaraki look at you through father.

“Hey....”

“.....”

“Look im sorry, a-and i know that doesn’t excuse what I did but please-” You got up before he could finishing his sentence as you walked towards your shared bedroom. Going in there use to give you comfort but now everytime you step into that room you see that fateful night over and over again.

You sat on the bed before hearing Shigaraki’s footsteps coming towards the room. Furrowing your brows, you ignore him as you put your shoes on. You needed a little bit of fresh air so you were planning on going to the local park to relax a bit. You weren’t a villain like the rest of them, you were just a simple civilian. Not that you minded really. It was peaceful not fearing for your life everyday and having the fear of failure not on your shoulders.

You didn’t really have a quirk so you just ignored the questions when people asked you if you had one.

“Can I talk to you?” You were dragged back to reality when Shigaraki’s voice rang through your ears. Annoyed you just answered hoping that the conversation would be short.

“What do you want?” You voice was snappy and you could feel the venom dripping from it.

“I understand that your mad. And you have every right to be but your not even giving me a chance to redeem myself and-”

“Redeem yourself? Why the hell would I do that? YOU cheated on ME. LIke hell im gonna forgive you so easily.”

“It’s been two months! What happened was in the past!”

“It was in the past my ass. How would you like it to see your lover in bed with another?!”

“I-”

“I felt like my soul died that day. I thought I was your only one! Only to find out that you slept with her! Was she a one time thing or were there more hookups?!” You stood up from the bed as your fists turned white and your anger slowly erupting.

“.....”

“TELL ME DAMNIT!”

“Three...there were three different occasions...” Now the tears were kicking in. You were hoping that it wasn’t true. What if there was more and he was only saying three just to ease your heart?

“Why? Why would you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?” Your questions were like knives stabbing into Shigaraki’s heart. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he didn’t want your heart to hurt more than it already was.

“Im not going to ask again Shigaraki. You either tell me the truth or I will walk out of this base and never come back.”

“The...the first time it was a drunk accident, the second time Dabi had brought her to the base and one thing led to another. The last one was the same as the second one.”

“Did...did Dabi know about the affair?” You were begging, no pleading for him not to have known. You didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“Yes...” That was it. That was the thing that broke you. Walking up to Shigaraki you pushed past him before flipping him off and saying one final line.

“I would rather die that ever be with you again.” And with that, you left the hideout. You speed walked through the alleys to get to you parked your car. Your friends house was pretty far and you didn’t feel like walking in the dead of night were criminal activity was more active.

Getting in your car, you turn on the radio and start breaking down. Your tears were blurring your eyesight as you put the car in drive.

The streets weren’t busy except for the occasion car with some college students. Or drunk people walking along the sidewalk. The sound of the radio blasting songs that were supposed to be happy barley brightened up your mood as you drove down the dark highways.

All of a sudden a bright light hit your eyes from the right side. Some fuck must have had their brights on. But you had the right away so you went. All of a sudden a huge crash rang through your ears and the world became dark.

~~~

A ring came from Shigaraki’s phone. Looking at the clock he noticed it to be 2am. Annoyed he just decided to answer it.

“Hello, this is (hospital name). You were listed under a emergency contact for (Y/N) (L/N).” Shigaraki jolted awake as his hands reached his neck, standing up and already begun to pace the floor of his room.

“Yes did something happen?!”

“At 12am tonight miss (Y/N) was in a car crash. A hit and run to be exact. Their car was totalled after it rolled about 3 times from the speed that the driver hit them. A bystander of the accident called 119. They were in need of surgery immediately once paramedics noticed that they were crushed and bleeding out quickly due to a shard of glass that was stabbed in their chest.”

“Are they okay?!” The doctor on the other end went silent.

“Im deeply sorry for your lost sir. They died during surgery trying to remove the glass that was lodged in their skin. The police are on the look for the suspect. if you wish to see them were on (blank street). Once again, im sorry for your loss. Goodnight sir.” The phone went silent as the doctor hung up.

Everything seemed to stop as the feared villain feel to his knees. Tears fell from his eyes as his body shook. He realized that now it was impossible to even try. And the last words you had ever said were ‘ you’d rather die than ever be with him again.’ Crying into his hands as his tears made a puddle on the floor.

I guess you took your words seriously.

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki #mha #bnha #mha angst #bnha angst #tomura shigaraki angst #:)

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cowboyjen68 · 3 years ago

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Hi jen! 20 something masc bisexual who just cant figure out if theyre a man or a woman here. I dont really feel comfortable talking about this stuff but writing anonymously is a lot less daunting and you seem like a really chill person and such a good mom. When i was youger, around 16, i cut my hair short and dressed less conventional (stopped wearing what my mom put out for me lol), bc i wanted to express myself. I didnt get the "mens" haircut i wanted originally, but i made up for it with flannels and hoodies. Slowly, occasionally, people started to ask me my sex/gender and when someone read me as male i was over the moon. By the time i was 18 i had stopped wearing makeup and tried hard to pass as male. It became pretty exhausting and my bestfriend is a very feminine guy, who usually gets read as a woman, inspired me to care less what people think i am. Im trying to take things as they come but with my mullet (thick long hair in the back) i noticed people read me as female more often than not. Its not insulting, but i cant help but feel disappointed. It felt so right when people read me as male. Im considering transitioning but i hate the idea of coming out to my family (as trans) and im scared of "being wrong about all this and screwing my body up", even thougt I like the prospect of the physical changes testosterone brings. All in all, I feel like ive been stuck in this undecided period for so long and something needs to change.

Im grateful for any words of advice :)

I am so sorry for the delay, my seasonal side jobs keep me very busy. I owe you some sincerity here because you asked and trust me to give you the truth, at least as I see it.

Of course I cannot in anyway see inside you or know the mix of emotions you have or the complex amount of experiences you have had in your 20 something life. When someone is struggling with hard questions being “PC” does no one any favors so here is my best take, but ultimately you know what is best and perhaps a therapist that will not just be a "yes" person would be very helpful.

Firstly, if you decide to transition for whatever reason, comfort, ease of experiencing the world etc, there is no rule that says you have to do anything at all to alter your body. You can be who you are within yourself. I am a lesbian and a woman whether or not some stranger on the street thinks so. (and the amount of time I am called "sir" in one day changes absolutely zero about me). Same applies to you. If you are concerned about medical or hormonal intervention you are not wrong to have caution. Anytime we take any medication from a blood pressure pill to nasal spray, doing due diligence and understanding the affects on our body is important. And each of us must take into consideration body health, genetics, dr suggestions, past medical history and the reality of what time, money and effort we are capable of exerting, especially if it means for a life time

That all being said short hair, clothes, your interests and personality are not (should not) be gendered. There is no reason a woman can’t be and exist as a female who is not always thrilled with her body (looks and function) and be a human who loves doing a myriad of things that may or may not fit what society prescribes as our gender roles.

You say you are disappointed when read as female? Why? Do you dislike that they are not seeing the real you OR because you know being read as such means, in our culture, you are seen as less capable, treated differently, perceived as weak, not as smart as men and treated as the lesser of our society simply based on your body? Either way, this is a them problem and not a you problem. You are as flawed, strong, smart, confident as you are no matter how they see you. It is not up to them to decide how human you get to be based on what sex you are. No one fits all the general attributes imposed gender roles wish for us to follow.

Ask yourself, if I transition and am still consistently read as female, how will that affect me? Will I become angry because I am putting time, effort and money into presentation and people still see what they see? Am I going to feel better able to shrug off mistakes make by quick glances or because people have known me for years because I am more true to me? Transition should happen in a vacuum, in my opinion. (disclaimer: I am not trans so perhaps this is not how trans men feel) You are who you are whether in a crowd of people or alone in a forest. Others should never make that decision or set the bar for you. EVER. They have no investment in your internal self.

Since you are asking me, this is my experience. In my early years i understood very quickly how I was treated differently when people (men and women) saw me as a little boy instead of a little girl. In my teens I saw the way girls who hit puberty before me were immediately treated sexually, will less respect and I was like” well shit”. I would have happily been seen as a boy/man and probably went to length to insure that. At 12 I was pretty confident I wanted to be or should have been a boy. My mom very colorfully explained to me there are issues with both sides and am a girl who wants what boys get in the world.. sooo get them as a girl. THEN I met other lesbians and butches and bi women who are masculine and they told me their stories.. which were just like mine. I realized to be a man I had to give up being a woman and being a woman, my reality, physically and in my upbringing (in the 1980′s and 1990″) was the best and only way to connect to other people because I was not different with them or alone. I needed to be me 24/7 not just in public, not just at parties, not just with friends, but when I was alone, at night or mowing the yard. Perception and societal opinion had nothing to do with my body, my mind, my personality.

Am I still affected by gender roles? Of course. Our society genders everything from pocket knives (camo or pink camo) to cars, abilities to shampoo! Do i sometimes let it slide when a man thinks he is talking to another man, sure.. why not? I learn somethings (some things I don’t want to know on occasion). But at the end of the day, most of the people I deal with begin to see me as a kind, capable women or...(translation: human) and when it counts I don’t want to be vague or dodgy about my sex, my gender or my sexual orientation. Who I am, who I deserved to be, my right to exist as me is too important. None of these were over night revelations. Time, experience, community as all helped me understand:

You have to live with you forever and always, don’t try to exist as the easiest way for society to view you.

#bi #masciline #butch #trans man #my opinion #personal story #lesbian

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in-ky · 3 years ago

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Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

#negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith #au!negan #the walking dead #twd smut #twd negan

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madfantasy · 3 years ago

Note

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

“sorry to bother you”

Summary: Y/N meets Harry in a little shop in France. It was a lovely meeting between the fan and the rockstar, but when Y/N realizes she’s lost her phone, will she see Harry sooner than she had ever thought possible?

AKA Harry meets a fan and accidentally steals her phone

vibes bc they snack and she walks up to him while he’s looking at the sky lol ^

Ok so I just wanted to preface this: this was initially just going to be a short blurb about a respectful meeting between Harry and a fan because of the terrible stories I’ve been hearing lately about rude people being inconsiderate of Harry and his privacy and I wanted to showcase that you can treat Harry as a human being rather than an object when you see him irl. But then my writer brain wanted more and so it turned into more. All I have to say is if you ever meet Harry in real life, please be respectful and kind. Also there is a 0.00001 chance that this would ever actually happen as most fiction goes so please don’t expect more than a short convo and maybe a photo from him. For him to even speak with you is more than enough, he really isn’t a disneyland attraction.

Also not proofread bc apparently its long lol, I’m not super in love with this but I think it’s good-ish the end is meh - pls lemme know what yall think :)

Word Count: 10.2k (wait im actually so confused how this got so long omfg) | Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, idrk its long but it’s sweet?

She saw him long before she approached him. She was truly unsure of herself, not wanting to bother him or upset him. She had been a fan for so long and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet someone who meant so much to her.

In the small Bayeux shop, she hesitates as she risks another glance at the tall man. She whispered to her mom minutes ago about how Harry Styles was in the same shop as them. Her mom was texting her non stop telling her to go up to him or she would do it herself. Y/N shook her head, distrusting her mom and feeling self conscious. No one else was in the store and her interaction with him wouldn’t disrupt the rest of the store, but for some reason she felt a tinge of discomfort about going up to him.

Harry leafs over a tablecloth, not paying attention to the other patrons in the store or anything else for that matter. He was staying on the coast of France for the week and he hadn’t run into many fans, so he was feeling at ease. Mitch was somewhere else in the store, but Harry felt comfortable on his own. He feels a soft, small tap on his broad shoulder. He turns expecting the quiet Mitch, but is presented with a short, sweet looking woman.

“Excuse me. Um, hi...Sorry to bother you,” she starts, eyes wide as she works to maintain eye contact with Harry as she looks up at him.

His green eyes are widened, realizing this isn’t someone he knows.

“Hello,” he says simply.

“I-” she pauses, her hands fiddling, “I’m sorry to bother you, honestly. But, your music means so much to me and I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something before you left.”

He smiles, his expression softening at how genuine she sounds. “It’s quite alright.”

“It’s not though. I’m sure you’d appreciate not being bothered for once.”

“No,” he cuts her off, “I love talking with fans.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s days where you wish you could just go to a random store on the coast of France - so out of the way - and not be walked up to by a random person.”

“I mean, I guess, but you seem rather nice.”

“Thanks...I’ve been a fan long enough to know that there’s people who don’t always treat you with that kind of respect. I really wouldn’t have bothered you if it wouldn’t have changed my life.”

“Don’t feel like you’re a bother, please,” he pleads lightly as he grasps her hand out of instinct, dropping it immediately when he realizes what he’s done. “It’s the people who don’t actually come up to me and treat me like an animal that are upsetting. Or the people who are only after a photo and aren’t very nice to me. You… you’re treating me like a human being. Being overly courteous -- if I’m being honest.” He chuckles lightly at the end.

She blushes at his words and smiles up at him, mirroring the soft smile on his lips. “I’m only treating you how I would want to be treated if I were in your shoes.” She glances down at his feet and notices the Gucci boots and smiles to herself, laughing lightly.

“What?”

“We’ve got the same shoes on actually.”

“No way!” His voice is playful at first as he glances down at well and realizes she’s right. He laughs at the weird little coincidence.

“I’ve had these for years, my favorite shoes…” She mumbles, seeing the ways his eyes shift with a flash of concern. It’s what she fears he would think of her, why she was so hesitant to approach him in the first place. It’s why she had tried to hide her laugh from him when she noticed the similarity. She just wants to interact with him in a normal way. He again softens at her words, her sincerity, realizing it really just is one of those random things.

“They’re good shoes,” he laughs again, kicking his left heel with his right foot. The way she barely touched him to get his attention and the way she stays a safe distance from him is reassuring. She’s aware of his situation, yet she’s treating him with the utmost care and respect.

“So what brings you to Bayeux?” He asks, deciding he wants to continue the conversation with her. Y/N flits her eyes behind her shoulder and sees her mother watching their interaction out of the corner of her eye. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter her and Harry are at.

“Vacation, I guess. My family and I love to travel and ever since the pandemic settled down - finally, we’ve been jetting everywhere we’ve ever been or wanted to go. Seize the day vibes.” Her voice is serious, but she falters and laughs at the end. Her words are honest and she’s happy to actually get to talk to Harry more than just hello and a picture.

“I get that. You’re from America, yeah? It was really rough there for a long time.” He says solemnly, mirroring her figure, leaning against the counter, getting comfortable with her.

She laughs again, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling, completely in love with her idol, but desperately trying to play it cool. “The accent gives it away, huh? I’m trying to fix that, get a job out of the states and never go back.”

“Hey!” Harry interjects, throwing his hand out from his stance in her direction, like he might touch her, but this time being careful to not actually. “It’s not that bad. I like your accent...And I love LA.”

She can’t stop laughing with Harry. It feels so simple and common to just be talking with him. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush anywhere, but she also fears to take up too much of his time. “I’m originally from up north in California actually. Living in LA right now, though. But I don’t know, I’ve just always felt like I was meant to live somewhere else. Do you know how that is? Just feeling like you’re meant for something different?”

He watches the way she moves her hands and works through her thought process. He feels like in another world they would have been close friends. The way she talks about things is so familiar to him. It’s like she’s read his mind, even though he knows for sure she hasn’t. She’s funny and laid back, yet mature at the same time. He wonders how old she is, out of college it seems if she’s trying to get a job out of the United States. He wonders what she plans to do and who she wants to become. Her aura intrigues him to no end. He thinks he could talk to her for hours.

Realizing he hasn’t made any sort of response to her somewhat philosophical question, he nods quickly, eyes blinking rapidly, his body straightening up back to his full height. “Yeah..I mean that’s how I felt about music. Like, I always felt like I was meant for something more… Turns out I was!”

They smile together again, knowing the conversation is ending. She knows he won’t keep asking questions and she doesn’t want to keep him.

He knows he can’t completely turn himself over to this stranger, she’s obviously younger than him and even though he feels connected to her, she could surprise him still. He knows he can’t talk to her forever, the cashier glancing at the pair of them every so often since they haven’t been looking at any merchandise for a while now. He knows he shouldn’t flirt with her, ask her out for coffee or anything of the sort. He simply knows this must come to an end any moment now.

“You should definitely follow your heart,... I didn’t catch your name?” He realizes when he can’t finish his sentence by calling her name.

“Oh!” She says surprisedly, not realizing she never gave her name, “Y/N. And thank you, means a lot to hear encouragement come from someone who’s been such an inspiration to me. Honestly, thank you.”

He perks at the way she says her name, again feeling like he’s known her for much longer than these five minutes.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Y/N. Your support is what makes my life the way it is. It means a lot to me - and you truly seem like a lovely person, genuinely.”

She throws her head back in laughter at all of the words he’s saying. The way he’s trying to convey his sincerity is earnest, but his word choice is simply funny to her. Without realizing what she’s doing, she throws out her arm and her hand lands on his bicep to steady herself while laughing - something she would do with anyone normally. He doesn’t shift from her grasp when she opens her eyes and even widens them at the sight in front of her. Her hand on Harry Styles. How is this happening? She thinks as he doesn’t disintegrate underneath her touch. He’s definitely real as she feels the coat fabric and the muscles beneath it. He smiles down at her, so sweetly that his dimples pop out. She’s in awe, but has to contain the slight sense of coolness she’d been maintaining during their conversation.

She removed her hand, gingerly, “I won’t keep you any longer, Harry.” She blushes when she says his name. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to get a picture with you, but I totally understand if you’re not okay with that. I wouldn’t post it anywhere, it’s more just for me to remember this.” She rushes the last bit, feeling nervous and shy yet again. He was so big physically, but his presence was also so strong that she felt even smaller around him.

His smile calms her immediately and this time it's his hand to touch her, his hand landing over hers that’s been resting on the counter during their conversation.

“Of course,” His lips are soft and plush as they maintain his sweet smile. “Hey Mitch!” He looks over his shoulder as he calls to Mitch who has returned from the upstairs part of the shop.

Mitch blinks at the sight of Harry with a stranger before coming over, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind taking a picture of Y/N and me?”

Y/N is still in disbelief of what is going on, completely awestruck that Harry just said her name again to Mitch Rowland. And that Mitch Rowland was even in this shop with her as well. She hadn’t realized that at first. But now she was going to be forever grateful to her father for insisting they come back to Bayeux during this trip.

Mitch nods and takes her phone once she slips it out of her pocket, fingers fidgeting to get it open quickly. Mitch smiles at her reassuringly as she lets go and moves to stand beside Harry against the counter. He pulls her into his side gently and her hand goes around his waist, feeling his warmth and substantiality for the first true time. She tries to ground herself in the moment, memorizing every detail of right now. His cologne that emanates from his neck, the way the material of his jacket feels against her bare arm, the way he puffs out a slight laugh as Mitch shifts around to get most of their bodies in the frame. Oh and the way he looks when he tilts his neck to check on her and he even risks a wink of one of his emerald eyes and she promises herself she’ll never give away any of the clothes she’s wearing right now. Her nonchalant response is to wink right back and then they both smile, turning back their attention to the phone in Mitch’s hands.

Her mom had gone up to the cashier, effectively distracting them from the photoshoot that had begun to take place. Y/N never wants Harry to let go of her, but again she knows this can’t last forever. Mitch takes a couple of photos before handing the phone back. Y/N assumes that’s it and is about to thank Harry, but he speaks over her and her words die in her throat.

“How do they look?”

“Oh?” She flips through them and Harry leans over her shoulder, respectfully. “Pretty good,” she sums up, she loves them and she’d love even more, but she’d obviously never ask Harry for that.

“Pretty good?” He echoes, unsure of her response, looking from her to the photos, “Do you want to take more?”

She thinks on his offer, already knowing the right answer, “No, no. It’s all good. Thanks.”

Then turning to face Mitch, who’s been watching the pair of them converse, “Could I actually get a photo with you, Mitch? Sorry if that’s super weird, I just think you’re really cool. I had no idea you were even here until, uh, Harry called you over.” She laughs nervously, blushing yet again.

Harry laughs under his breath at how both her and Mitch blush at her words. She’s more unsure with Mitch, which he finds interesting. She had carried their conversation easily and maintained eye contact casually, but with Mitch, it was like he was her schoolyard crush, nervous hands and fleeting glances. He wondered if she genuinely only liked Harry for his music and didn’t find him physically attractive. This nagging feeling at the back of his mind perplexed him, he twitched trying to shrug it off. Why did he care if this woman found Mitch attractive and not him?

“Yeah, of course. It’s not weird, have had plenty of people say much weirder things to me than that…” He smiles at Y/N and she mirrors his expression, but then she bites her lip. Her expression falters slightly as she processes his words. “I’m sorry if you’ve had similar experiences as Harry with so-called fans being disrespectful and inconsiderate.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve been nothing but kind and respectful,” Harry interjects

She only fidgets at his words. She’s growing slightly more nervous, being in the presence of both Mitch and Harry was starting to wear on her calm exterior. Still, Mitch trades places with Harry and Harry plucks her phone from her hands. He takes more photos than Mitch, doing close ups and full shots, causing Mitch and Y/N to laugh as they hold onto each other. He gives them little instructions on what to do in the photos and soon Y/N is rolling her eyes at Harry like she’s been best friends with him for ages. She feels like she’s just out with a couple of her friends and they decided to stop and pose for photos randomly, rather than meeting rock legends that she had only dreamt of ever seeing in real life.

When Harry is finally satisfied and comes up to the pair of them, she moves away from Mitch first, his long hair shifting as she pulls away from his side. She turns to face him immediately and starts to gush, “You’re an amazing guitarist, by the way. I forgot to say that. When I heard ‘She’ for the first time...I was blown away. The guitar on it...Feels like you’re in another universe. And it follows up ‘To Be So Lonely’ which your guitar on it is also like crazy epic. ”

Harry and Mitch laugh, but Mitch’s smile is appreciative, like he’s about to speak, but Harry speaks first, “That’s because he was in another universe. You know the story?”

She smiles and nods. Harry nods in approval. Mitch interjects, “Thank you. Also, Y/N,” he stares intently at her face and she meets his gaze this time, “You’re truly one of the kindest people - maybe the kindest - who have come up to us. And I’m not just saying that because you complimented my guitar playing.”

“He’s right,” Harry nods solemnly. Her face beams up at them both, now she really felt like this was too good to be true. Meeting her idols and having them both say very complimentary things about her, she’d cherish it forever.

“You both are amazing people and deserve to be treated as such.” Her tone is the sincerest she’s ever been, meaning every single thing she says. Then she rushes out her next few sentences, “But thank you again, seriously, you both mean a lot to me - I’ll let you get back to it...Have a nice day!”

After they say their farewells swiftly, she turns to leave and bounces over to her mother who is grinning with pride for her daughter. Before she exits completely she risks a glance over her shoulder and throws a peace sign up, Harry returns it. Then she walks out of the shop, her mother finishing up her shopping minutes ago. Mitch and Harry stay back, talking and continuing to look around the store.

Y/N tries to keep her cool until they’re out of sight of the shop. Once they round the corner and are on the next street over, she’s jumping up and down and squealing to her mom. “Can you actually believe it? What the fuck just happened? That was real right? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

Her mom laughs and reassures her it was real, “You did that, I’m so proud of you. You handled yourself very maturely”

“Well I tried! I can’t believe Mitch was there too!” She interjects, cutting off her mom, completely ecstatic from the previous experience.

“So how did the photos come out?” Her mom asks once Y/N had stopped rambling about Harry’s outfit and their matching shoes and their conversation and basically anything that had happened in the last ten minutes. They were blocks from the shop now.

“Photos?”

“Yeah, the photos you took with them. How do they look? I was ready to come over, but then that other man popped out of nowhere.”

“He’s smooth like that,” she says wistfully, her little crush on Mitch being nowhere near her love for Harry, but still present, and pats for her phone. “Oh.” She says, stopping in her tracks.

Her mother stops with her, “What?”

“I...I left my phone in the store, I guess.”

“Y/N…” Her mom drags out her name in exasperation, in awe of her daughter’s ability to be so smooth with her own idol yet how forgetful she could still be.

“Shit!” She confirms that her phone is nowhere to be found.

“Really?” Her mother sighs, hands sitting on her hips in the center of the French street.

“Sorry?” She asks sheepishly. In her starstruck stupor she had been too transfixed on Harry and Mitch and must have placed it down on the counter.

“Well, let’s go back,” her mother states, tired but also not completely mad. She lost her phone plenty of times and it was usually because of less acceptable reasons. Meeting your idols warranted a spacey head.

The door chimes as Y/N reenters the store, she walks quickly to wear she had her conversation with Harry almost twenty minutes ago and her mom goes to ask the clerk if they had grabbed it. It’s not on the counter where they had been leaning. She glances around checking to see if it had fallen on the ground or if by some grand luck Harry and Mitch were still there. Due to her luck, neither of these hopes came true. Her mom joins her in the area and shakes her head, the clerk hadn’t gotten any phones turned in since they had left the first time.

“Give me your phone,” Y/N says suddenly. “Find my iphone,” she explains when her mom looks at her questioningly. Checking the phone, she sighs in exasperation, silently cursing herself for not sharing her location with her mom when her phone icon says ‘location unavailable’. She rubs a hand over her face in disappointment.

“Don’t click the sound button!” Her mom says quickly, “If someone stole it, they’ll turn it off when they hear it.”

“But how am I supposed to find it? It could be here and I just can’t see it.” Her finger hovers over the ‘play sound’ button, hesitant, but desperate. She had met and gotten photos with Harry Styles and they were already gone - oh and she’d have to replace her phone, which would be terrible, as well.

“Maybe Harry Styles has it?”

“Mom, don’t be dumb.”

“Hey! Watch your tone. I’m serious. Did he ever hand it back to you after he took those second round of pictures?”

Y/N scratches her head nervously and hands back her mom’s phone. She places both over her face and presses her fingers harshly over her eyes trying to think. She hadn’t been paying attention to her phone at the time, too busy trying to commit everything about Harry to memory in her mind so that she’d never forget it. She was sure she’d never forget today, now, even if she ever stopped loving Harry, which she was doubtful of. Hey kids, I met a rockstar and I was so starstruck I lost my phone in France! She groaned. “Oh my fucking god!”

After a few deep breaths with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, she composed herself, “We need to play the sound. Either it’s here and we’ll find it. Or - worst case scenario - it sounds and Harry Styles realizes he has my phone and we go from there… Well, I guess in the worst case scenario some jerk stole it and they turn it off and sell it for parts, but I just don’t think that’s what happened.” She bites her lip and stares at her mom, who hesitantly raises her finger to press the button that sets off the alarm on the lost phone. She clicks it after an overly dramatic pause. Y/N prays to anyone who’s willing to listen, she says in her mind, please sound the phone in here. Life would be so much simpler if it worked out the way we wanted. But, in place of the annoying echoing ring of the Find My iPhone tone there is only silence. At least there’s silence in the little shop in Bayeux.

In a tiny taxi cab that was headed to a small chateau outside of the town of Bayeux, the phone sounds and causes Harry to furrow his brows. He was sure he had his phone on ‘do not disturb’, but he pulls it out anyway to see why it’s making this annoying sound. What he pulls out of his coat pocket is not his phone he realizes immediately.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, still loud enough for Mitch to look over from the opposite passenger seat.

“What?”

“This isn’t my phone.”

“What?”

Harry rolls his eyes at Mitch’s repeated question and opens up his purse digging out his actual phone and holds up his and the one he had apparently stolen.

“Oh, yeah, that’s not your phone. That’s not good.”

Harry huffs as he turns the unknown phone over in his hand, the screen was a scene of a city he didn’t actually recognize - San Francisco maybe - the lavender silicone case is smooth in his hand and he notices a little sticker, it’s of Y/N and two other women. His eyes widen at it and it makes a little more sense to him. He hadn’t really stolen a phone, he just forgot to give it back. It wasn’t much better, but it was how he was going to comfort himself. Dropping his own phone in his lap, he runs his hand through his hair, rings slightly tugging at his mused curls. Then he turns the sticker to show Mitch, “It’s that girl we met, it’s her phone.”

“You stole her phone,” Mitch states. Voice deadpan and eyes boring into Harry’s.

“No!” Harry defends, but quickly slumps, “I mean, technically? Yes...But-” Mitch’s laughter cuts him off. “You’re an idiot, Harry, y’know that?”

“I feel like I’m on punk’d right now…” Y/N grumbles as it becomes clear that the phone is not in this shop. “If this is punk’d, at least my phone’s not actually gone,” she says to no one really. Her mom is pacing the store and stops to look at her daughter, “This is most definitely not punk’d for so many reasons, dear. Mainly because the show got canceled but also because we are in Bayeux, France not Malibu.”

“Fuck…”

She walks out of the shop, barely paying a glance to the shop keeper this time, her usual kind demeanor nowhere to be found under the piles of distress and anxiety plaguing her body.

Back out on the street she looks around, again hoping that with any luck Harry is still around and will come running up to her to give her back her phone. Again, no such luck.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” She looks to her mom helplessly, her arms flapping by her sides, defeated.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Harry asks as they get out of the taxi, glancing at the purple phone in his hand.

Mitch shrugs, “Hope she has her location on?”

“Then she’s going to come here...But wouldn’t she have tried to track it first instead of playing the sound?”

“Dude, I don’t know.You can try to unlock it and find her mom’s number, get in contact with them.” Mitch sighs as they walk through the front door. “Or we can go back to town, see if they’re still there? Did you get her last name? You could find her on social media maybe?”

“I feel terrible...She was so nice.” Harry throws his bags down on the entryway couch and begins to pace, Y/N’s phone never leaving his hand. “Could go back into town tomorrow, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitch sits and runs a hand through his hair, “Just calm down, right now, Harry. There’s not much else you can do.”

He’s right and Harry tries to not fixate on the phone, but he fiddles with it for the rest of the day. He doesn’t let it leave his sight and sets it beside his bed when he gets ready to go to sleep. As he shifts in the bed, unable to fall asleep he takes the phone and begins trying to unlock it, guessing random numbers and failing miserably. Eventually, he decides he should go to bed and drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep.

After being unsuccessful in town, Y/N and her mom went back to the little villa they were staying at on the outskirts of Bayeux. It was located next to some vineyards that the villa co-owned with the private chateau that sat on the other side of the vines. It was beautiful and she had been so excited to be staying there. But after the events of today, she was not in the mood to join the rest of her family for dinner among the grapes. She lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she had been so stupid to forget to ask for her phone back.

In the middle of the night, she wakes up in a cold sweat. She’s still in the clothes she had worn out and was laying on top of her covers at the end of her bed. All the windows of the room were closed and her shades weren’t drawn. Groggily, she rose from her uncomfortable position and changed. Moving to the window to let some air in she sees the lights flickering in a room of the private chateau across the way. She wondered why someone would willingly be up at this hour, even though she was unsure exactly what time it was without her phone. Her phone. That’s what had woken her up. She had dreamt that her mom had called her phone and the frog from the Frog and the Toad stories had picked it up. That was ridiculous, of course, but the idea to call her phone instead of just pinging it was solid. If Harry still had it, then he could pick up and they could figure out how to meet up. She decided she’d have to do that at a reasonable hour, however and moved on, opening her windows and closing the sheer shades, before getting under her covers to sleep.

Y/N wakes up early the next morning. Her sleep a restless one. Padding down the hall to her parent’s room, she knocks solemnly. She was far from a morning person and it was much to her mother’s surprise to see her standing in the hallway when she opened the door.

“Hey..” her voice catches in her throat, scratchy from lack of use in the night.

“Good morning, sunshine,” her mother laughs slightly, but Y/N only gives her an unamused look and walks into her room immediately searching for her mom’s phone.

“Need to use your phone, gonna call my phone,” she mutters, none of her thoughts being coherent sentences.

“Y/N, it’s 7 am. You’re going to call Harry Styles at 7 am? With your morning voice?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips form a straight line one her face, clearly not amused by her mother’s questions. Even if she knew her mom was right. She clears her throat and rolls her eyes at her mom, who is moving around the room beginning to get ready for the day as her daughter sits on the rumpled bed. Y/N’s father had already gone out to breakfast in the main area of the villa.

“Fine,” she slides off the bed when she realizes her mom isn’t offering her any more words of wisdom. “I’ll get ready for the day and then I will call my phone.”

Pattering back to her room, she slowly begins to dress and liven herself up for the day. Her hands instinctively reach out to her bedside table to pick up her phone to turn some music on, but of course she’s greeted with nothing. She groans loudly, “Of. Fucking. Course.” Shaking her head, she moves to take fresh clothes out of her suitcase.

Exiting her room again, this time far more awake, she walks down the hallway in a babydoll style top that read “Don’t play with my heart” with little girls playing racquetball with a red heart emblazoned over her chest and white jean floods. Her feet were covered in red high top converse today, matching the color of the small heart on her shirt. She liked the contrast of the white pants and the bright red of the shoes and she smiled to herself as she walked confidently into the breakfast area.

Her entire family was sitting around one of the tables, sipping coffee and eating pastries, it was now around 8:45 - a slightly more acceptable part of the day. They were all early risers, especially in comparison to her, and her older sister looks at her curiously. “What are you doing up so early, kid?” Y/N leans down to grab a slice of a peach from her brother’s place, which earns her a slight yelp of protest. She rolls her eyes at her sister and stalks off to the buffet, knowing she’s made her presence known enough.

“Can I borrow your phone now?” Y/N says after finishing a small danish and the lukewarm coffee that was at their table when she arrived. Her mother finally nods and hands it over. As Y/N grabs it, she’s already halfway out the doors that lead into the backyard of the villa.

She stands on the grass that goes for a few feet before a hedge that separates the villa ground with the vineyard. Flipping through the contacts, she settles on hers and sighs, trying to calm her nerves. Her free hand ghosts over her hair and she uses one foot to step lightly on the heel of the other shoe. Please pick up, she sends out a prayer once again. Her last twenty-four hours seemed to consist of dreams, hopes, and prayers and she was starting to realize that she didn’t particularly like any of them. Biting her lip, she raises her phone up to her ear and gets her automatic voice message. Realizing she has her phone on ‘do not disturb’, she immediately rings herself again, knowing that it will go through this time.

Harry strolls out of his bathroom and widens his eyes when he hears a buzzing hear his bed. Seeing it’s Y/N’s phone he grabs it quickly and furrows his brow at the contact. Her mother’s name, but he doesn’t know that. To him it’s just a person’s name, it could be anyone she knew. Still, he thought about the odds of it being just one of her friends or her calling from someone else’s phone and decided to risk it.

“Hello?”

“Thank fucking God!” is all he hears and he’s pretty sure it’s Y/N’s voice.

“Y/N?” He laughs and takes a seat on his bed, staring out his window that opened to the vineyard.

“Yes! Harry? Hi!” She’s ecstatic that anyone picked up at all, bouncing up and down on the other side of the phone. She mutters to herself, once again, “Thank fucking God.”

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“Oh, my mom’s,” she says, calming down slightly as she begins to walk around the grass, unable to contain the renewed sense of energy she has.

“You don’t keep her in your contacts as ‘mum’? I almost didn’t pick up.” He tilts his head, trying to think of anyone else he knew who kept their mother’s contact as the actual name rather than ‘mum’ or some other variant of it.

“Well, thanks for picking up,” she laughs at his words, bringing her pacing to a stop to stare at the chateau across the way. “It’s really not that weird,” she insists, her arm going to cradle the elbow of the arm that holds the phone to her ear. “I don’t think any of my siblings have her as ‘mom’ in their contacts.”

“I think it’s a little weird. I’m going to have to start asking people what they’ve got their mum down as in their phones. You’ve got me intrigued,” he muses, only slightly teasing. A smile curves onto his face as he hears her huff over the phone, obviously not liking his ribbing.

“So...you have my phone,” she changes the subject.

“Yes…” he scratches his head and she swears she could hear him awkwardly rubbing at his hair. “Sorry ‘bout that. Guess I forgot to give it back.”

“Not entirely your fault, I probably should have asked for it back. It was like twenty minutes before I even realized I didn’t have it and that was only really thanks to my mom.” She tries to not make him feel bad, because she honestly felt responsible for the mess up.

“Yeah, but I probably wouldn’t’ve realized till I got back to my place and pulled out one phone from my pocket and another one from my bag if you hadn’t tried the ‘find my iphone’ thing.”

“Oh my god, was it loud!? Did you have a hard time shutting it off?” She rushes as all the possible ways she might have annoyed Harry yesterday run through her mind.

“No, no, it was fine,” he reassures her, laughing lightly, standing up now and beginning to pace in front of his window. “Felt like a proper dick, though. Never in my life have I forgotten to give someone their phone back.” He sighs and stops in front of the window, deciding to open it for some fresh air.

Her gaze flits to a movement on the second floor of the chateau, someone opening up their window apparently. The long paned windows flip open and the little sheer curtains flutter in the slight morning breeze.

“So are you still in Bayeux?” Harry asks, hoping her answer is ‘yes’ as he takes in a deep breath of the air from outside.

“Yeah. Are you still here?” She asks timidly, moving her gaze down to her shoes bright red sticking out of the green grass. “Because that will make getting my phone back much easier,” she adds, clarifying that it’s not supposed to be a personal question, just simply a logistical one. Even if her heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again.

“Yes, I am. Well...just outside the town actually.”

“You don’t say? I’m staying just outside of town, too. At a little villa located next to a vineyard,” She looks around her surroundings again, walking the length of the garden once more. A movement from the same room that had opened their windows at the chateau catching her eye once again. A man, with his arm placed on the sill, leaning out slightly.

“You’re not wearing red shoes by any chance?” He smiles and she can hear the way it affects his words. Looking out of the window, he eyes the villa and the person who was pacing around its patio, seemingly on the phone.

Her brows raise and she stops in her tracks. “Did you just open your window?”

The only response from Harry that she hears is a soft chuckle. But, more importantly, the man in the chateau is waving to her. She grins and waves her free hand over her head, doing a slight jump to make sure he sees her. His laughter only grows, crackling slightly over the telephone line.

“What are the odds?” She breathes out after a moment. Her waving hand fell to her side and she looked at the figure in the window. It wasn’t exactly clear to her that it was Harry, but the way the man was hunched was enough to convince her. She vaguely sees him shake his head in agreement at the serendipitous nature of their current situation.

“Have you had a chance to dine in the vineyard yet?” Harry bites his lip after he asks the question, feeling a little more confident in his flirtation over the phone.

“I have - only once for dinner. Last night I was so stressed I couldn’t eat.”

“What do you think about lunch in the vineyard?” He’s smiling now, the charm dripping in every word he says. His accent is music to her ears and she thinks how could she ever say no to that offer.

“I don’t know...lunch with my phone thief?” She imitates an unsure tone. Her tease is lighthearted and Harry huffs, playfully indignant.

“As an apology for keeping your phone by mistake,” he adds, emphasizing the ‘by mistake’ part.

“As long as I can get my phone back, I’m up for anything you want,” She laughs, but then blushes at the innuendo that could be found in her words. Harry hears it and an amused look spreads across his face, the definition of anything running through his mind as well as his assured belief that Y/N did not mean what she had just implied. “I mean! Not anything, I just...Lunch in the vineyard would be lovely, Harry.” She sighs, a hand trailing down her face at her complete foolishness.

“Great. How does one o’clock sound?” He moves on from her slip, not wanting to embarrass her anymore. Especially when he was the one to cause this entire situation.

“Sounds smashing, Mr. Thief,” She breathes out, but laughs when she hears Harry groan.

“You’re something else, missy.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her giggles at their playful back and forth.

“See you at one.” He says finally.

“See you at one.” She echoes, continuing to watch him in the window. Neither of them seem to move to hang up. She’s stood in place and so is he, his head hanging out of the window now, resting himself on his arm. It’s just their breathing exchanging over the line and some gusts of wind crackling the connection every so often.

“Are you going to hang up?” She whispers, after a minute of complete silence, her voice coming out impossibly small.

“Thought you would’ve by now.”

“I don’t know why I can’t.” She admits, but she just feels weird hanging up on him even if they have plans to see each other later.

“Me neither.” His response causes her to tilt her head in confusion. Why would he have trouble hanging up on her?

“Okay.”

Then, it’s quiet again. Both of them shifting their bodies around, yet still managing to stay on the line. Y/N is the one who hangs up the phone after hearing Harry’s breath shake slightly, like he’s steeling himself to actually hang up. She realizes that while she doesn’t want to hang up on him, she’d rather do it than have him hang up on her. If that made any sense. She wasn’t sure, but the way he had invited her to lunch, it just felt like he had shifted their relationship from fan and star to something else. Something she didn’t fully grasp, but whatever it was made her stomach flip.

She informed her family that she wouldn’t be going out with them today and that she was getting her phone back, but not that she would be having lunch with Harry. She had no idea what they would think about it, but she didn’t want to give them the chance to inform her.

Walking through the vineyards, she watches the slight dust from the dirt gather on her shoes, the red converse. She had settled on what she had been wearing originally after changing her outfit upwards of twenty times. Best to be casual, she thought, like it was no big deal that she was about to dine with a musician whom she loved.

There was only one table on this side of the vineyard, it was the part owned by the chateau, a couple rows from where the villa had their tables. The simple cream tablecloth laid across the wooden table that had two matching wooden chairs with cream cushions placed around it. On top of the table was a picnic basket and a bottle of red wine, made from the grapes in the vineyard. And in one of the chairs sat Harry. Big square green glasses perched on his nose as he looked up at the sky. Y/N takes in his appearance, his cream shirt with stitched patterns on it, half unbuttoned to grant a full view of his swallows and butterfly as well as baggy light wash ripped jeans and dirty white vans. His shirt almost matches the tablecloth, but she’s not sure if he would take that as a compliment.

He hadn’t noticed her presence and he rubs his lips together, smoothing the lip balm he had applied before settling outside.

“Mr. thief?” She touches lightly on his shoulder, similar to how she had done yesterday. His head shoots up and he readjusts in his chair, to sit up slightly more upright. A smile curves onto his face and he moves his glasses up into his hair, pushing his curls back behind them.

“Y/N,” he drags out her name, toying with the sound of it. His eyes flit over her figure, taking in her outfit but quickly run back to her beautiful face. He motions for her to take a seat and she complies.

“The red shoes,” he smiles, glancing at her shoes. She laughs and does a little click of her heels.

“Can’t believe my phone was less than a mile away from me last night.”

“Oh! Your phone!” Harry’s eyes widened, “I forgot it in my room!”

Y/N laughs, her smile spreading on her face immediately, but her face falls when she sees Harry isn’t laughing. “You can’t be serious.” Harry says nothing, a blush creeping up his neck. “Harry…” she doesn’t know what else to say, scratching at the back of her head. “I guess stars really are just like us, complete space cadets.”

“I’m sorry! I was..distracted.”

She can’t keep herself from laughing and she places her hand over Harry’s on the table, trying to calm him down. “No worries, seriously, I was just teasing you. I’ve gone this long without my phone, an hour or so more won’t kill me.”

He smiles sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for how foolish he had made himself look. “Sorry ‘bout that. Seems like I’m really trying to keep your phone, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of...but I don’t think there’s anything in particular on there that you’d really be interested in having access to.”

He grabs the bottle of wine and takes the temporary cork off, he had previously uncorked it before Y/N had arrived. He pours the wine and then quirks a brow towards her. “I’m sure you’ve got some funny notes on there, you’re hilarious.”

She scoffs as his look is serious. Picking her glass up, she clinks it with Harry’s and takes a sip. She hums at the taste, judging the flavor and deeming it good. He watches her as she makes her silent decision and smirks at the way she smiles to herself. Coming back to the conversation she makes eye contact with Harry as she sets the glass down and leans back in her chair.

“You barely know me.” A coy smile flits across her features now. Harry’s heart skips a beat at her tone. He had been expecting some lighthearted quip, but this held something far more intense. It’s still teasing, but it’s far closer to flirting than friendly joking.

He begins to unpack the basket and place food onto the table, eyes constantly flickering between his task and Y/N. Her eyes are fixated on his hands, the way they flex and move and the way his rinks clink against the containers he’s moving around.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He finishes placing the food on the table and removes the basket from the table so there’s nothing obstructing their view of each other.

“Very specific,” she takes a sip of her wine again, refraining from rolling her eyes. It was easy to talk to Harry, like they had been friends forever.

Harry lets out one of his loud single laughs. “See! You’re hilarious.” His compliment makes her finally roll her eyes playfully. Instead of responding, she puts some food onto the plate in front of her and takes a bite of a peach slide she had grabbed.

“You’re a flirt,” she says finally, her smile spreading across her face.

“That’s a fact ‘bout me not you, love.”

She bites her lip. For being extremely forgetful, Harry was also extremely charming. “Well, I’m not a fan of flirts.”

“I thought you said you were a massive fan yesterday?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at her with an inviting look in his eye, obviously trying to goad her.

She let out a gasp at his words and began to blush. His stare felt like a second sun boring straight into her, its heat traveling directly to her core. Trying to maintain her collected appearance that she had played so well yesterday, she takes a breath and another sip of wine. The liquid ran down her throat, soothing her. Shaking her head she says, “You know what I meant.”

Biting a piece of bread, Harry nods and shoots her a wink. Her legs instinctively shift together. Finishing his chewing, he speaks up, “Okay, but seriously, tell me more about yourself.”

They settle in, getting more serious and having an actual conversation rather than flirty comments shot back and forth. By the end of the bottle of wine, Harry and Y/N are cackling about some story she’s told about her first solo trip to Amsterdam and all the trouble she got into being a twenty year old college student with easy legal access to weed.

“I remember the first time I went to Amsterdam with the band,” Harry easily segways into his own story and she perks at the words ‘the band’. After all the fun they had been having talking and getting to know each other, the idea that Harry was a famous musician had left her mind completely. For the last forty-five minutes he had just been a really nice guy who was treating her to lunch.

She looks at him expectantly. “It was crazy cool, I think I was only seventeen then? But everyone else was over 18 so they bought us a bunch of pot and we smoked it and got high off our asses. Can barely remember what we talked about, but we definitely thought it was the smartest shit ever”

“Do you ever miss that?”

He finishes off his last bit of wine, “Being young and dumb?”

“No, the, like, relationship you had with them. I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like with any close relationship, when you stop being together all the time...it’s never the same.”

Harry sighs, thinking over what you had said, now knowing it was rather serious and not just about being young. He runs a hand through his soft curls before starting his response. “Short answer is yes. But, y’know, they were my family for so long and that bond doesn’t go away, even if we go through rough patches. Like that part of my life is such an essential part of who I am, I could never throw it away or discount it. I don’t know if I miss it all of the time though. I really like who I am right now.”

She nods, finishing her wine now too. Her body is fuzzy and warm under the soft light of the afternoon. Sharing a bottle of wine was enough to make her tipsy, but she felt sober enough to carry on their serious conversation. “That’s good. It’s important to like who you are right now. It’s how you know you’re ready to be there for others.” She says thoughtfully and then adds, “I like who I am right now, too.”

Harry smiles at her, a calm expression maintaining on his face, and twists his rings on his fingers. “That’s good,” he echoes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” His voice is soft and of course she’s going to say yes.

Her response is to stand up from the table and begin putting things back into the picnic basket. Harry watches her for a moment, taking in the way she moves with so much elegance even when doing such a mundane task. He is honestly so happy that he had gotten to see her again. She had intrigued him yesterday, but he had just expected her to be one of those fleeting thoughts in his mind. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had a feeling she would live in his memory for far longer. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll come back later and grab it all.”

“You set this all up, the least I can do is clean up a little,” She looks up at him from her crouched position as she packs up the leftover food into the basket still on the ground. Her hair is slightly falling into her face and she reaches to push it behind her ear while they continue to look at one another. Harry takes his lower lip into his mouth as he continues to look at her, trying to convince himself she’s not the most beautiful woman he’s ever met.

As they walk between the grapes, they continue to talk, further investigating Y/N’s job aspirations and what Harry was planning on for his next few weeks of vacation. He leads them down a dirt path after they cross the street, moving away from both the villa and the chateau. The path has tall grass flanking its sides that pushes around in the cool summer breeze. She mentions the beautiful sound of the birds chirping and Harry agrees. They walk until they reach the small lake that’s about a ten minute walk from their respective current residences. It’s not a lake for swimming so there’s no one around, just more tall grass, some small trees, and the animals.

“It’s really so beautiful here.”

“I love it a lot, I’ve been coming down here every evening and just sitting alone for an hour or so,” Harry motions to the little wooden bench located beneath a shady tree. She looks at him questioningly, unsure if he means for them to sit. He takes her hand in response and leads them over to it. It’s right before the edge of the pond and if their legs were just a bit longer they could touch the feet into the water.

“It’s nice,” She says, turning her attention from the scenery to stare at Harry, who she finds is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and she bites her lip. He’s so close to her. Closer than they were in the shop yesterday and now their faces are on the same level. His glasses are still pushed into his curls and she decides to pluck them from his head and place them over her eyes instead. Harry protests, but she says smugly, “I’m putting them to better use than just sitting a top that head of yours. It��s quite bright out.”

Harry leans into her, extending his arm behind her and resting it on the back of the bench. She sighs peacefully, with her gaze now hidden behind the glasses. She returns her gaze out against the water and tries to shift closer to Harry casually. They stay silent, listening to the rest of the world moving around them. Soon she’s resting nestled into his side and his arm has moved from the bench to rest around her shoulders. She exhales in contentment, but neither of them have said anything for a while. They were okay with it, being held was enough. Her right hand goes up and threads with Harry’s that is hanging limply against her.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decides he wants to talk. “I like being around you.”

“I like being around you too, Harry. You’re different than I had expected.”

“Really?”

“Yeah..I mean there’s that sinister quote about how you should never meet your heroes. But still, you were even kinder than I expected and even though you stole my phone,” she pauses to laugh,”it kind of turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I got to see you again.”

“Thanks…” Harry sighs and she turns her face to gaze up at him. “Well, yeah, now I’m sorta glad I did take your phone. You’re really wonderful.” She smiles and he smiles just as wide.

But then her smile falters, suddenly remembering everything. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, she mentioned that thing about heroes and it all came crashing down around her. Yes, it was amazing to be around Harry and it was great that he had been so down to earth. But what she had just said was true too. He was her hero, he was famous and their lives didn’t connect at all. Just that one fleeting moment in the shop. If she hadn’t known him they would have never interacted. She had even been on her last legs of being in that store, she was just about to ask her mom to leave when Harry had walked through the door.

She sits up and drops her hand from his and he looks at her confused. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks, concerned. She stands up now and walks the short distance to the edge of the water, pushing his glasses on top of her head. He follows quickly, growing anxious as she stays silent. “I just..” she laughs in spite of herself, “I just feel really dumb right now.”

“What? Why?” Harry’s really confused now, she won’t meet his gaze as he faces her trying to figure out what just happened.

“I can’t believe I fooled myself into thinking for even a second this could ever be something more.” She turns to Harry finally, looking him directly in the eye, even though her eyes are prickling with tears. She’s angry with herself, not Harry. “You’re you and I’m just a fan at the end of the day. All of the flirting and touching, it can’t be anything more. At most, I’m a one night stand. And as great as that would be in the moment, I know how I feel about you and I know it would ruin me. I can’t be a fling for you, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he grabs her arm, trying to comfort her, she shrugs him off. “You’re more than a fan to me, I thought that was obvious by now. You wouldn’t be some meaningless one night stand. When I say I like being around you, I mean I like you, Y/N.” His voice is strong yet soft. He needs to convince her that she can feel comfortable around him, but he sees the darkness in her eyes, how scared she is of being hurt.

“I don’t fit into your life, Harry.” She shakes her head, moving her hands more as she grows more anxious.

“That’s not true. You told me you want to move to England, we could see each other there and see if this was anything.”

She knows he’s right, that it was possible, but she had worked herself up so much now that she had a hard time believing it. She takes a deep breath, “Just answer me this. Would you have given me a second glance if I hadn’t come up to you in that shop yesterday? Or a second thought if there hadn’t been the phone mishap?”

Harry is taken aback. Her words had nothing to do with what he had just said. He had thought his solution was actually really great, a plan he had been meaning to tell her if the rest of the day had gone accordingly, which it didn’t seem to be doing. He pauses and if Y/N was anymore distraught that would have been her cue to leave. Thankfully, she had grounded herself enough in the situation to not let her hot head get in the way of this conversation.

“That’s a pretty unfair question, Y/N. It’s not like I’m constantly looking for someone to fancy.”

“Just answer the questions.”

“Probably not, about the first one, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in the shop before you came up to me. I was off in my own world.” She nods, taking his words into account. He continues, “But yes, about the second one, I thought about you in the car ride home before your phone even rang. Like I said, I like you.”

“Okay.” She softens.

“That’s it?”

“I mean you’re right. We could see each other in London and see if this is something. I just had to know about the other stuff, it was racing through my mind and I wouldn’t get over it unless you gave me an answer.”

“Oh, so can I kiss you?” His words broke the uncomfortable tension that had surrounded them.

“You still want to?” Her voice is small and unsure. The most nervous she had been around Harry was right now.

“I want to do so much more than that, darling, you have no idea.” He cups her cheek and wraps an arm around her waist. She giggles in nervous anticipation. Then his lips gently push onto hers and she sighs into the kiss. At the edge of the lake, the pair of them taste each other for the first time. Tongues begin licking into each other’s mouths and the kiss becomes breathless. Her hands are at the base of his neck, tugging him closer to her while he tightens his grasp around her waist. She moans slightly when Harry nips at her lower lip and he smirks, happy with the sound she makes.

“We should probably go get my phone.” Harry whimpers at her words.

“What?” Harry is once again confused by the woman before him, who had now pulled from their kiss.

“My phone is in your room…” She trails off and then eyes widen and he giggles excitedly. Eventually realizing what she’s implying.

“Yes! Yes, we should go do that. Get your phone. In my room. Sounds like a good idea. Mhmm.” He pecks her lips between each sentence.

“You’re so weird,” she laughs and brings down his shades onto her face once again. He pulls her into his side and kisses the top of her head as they begin their walk back to the chateau.

“Do you want your phone or not?”

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