#in the awkward and completely wrong way that only Paul could do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 3 years

Text

This Boy (George Harrison x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! welcome to my first oneshot! a lot of my stories are very plot-driven and they end up becoming these long chapter fics but I'm gonna see if I can make a handful of oneshots in the next little bit to kind of give yous something to read while waiting for the longer fics to finish up. this is my first one, and it's for Georgie!

Summary: It's date night, and you're more than ready to meet your mystery date; George, however, is not.

WARNINGS: Swearing is in almost all my fics, so this one isn't safe either probably, hints of suggestive behaviour, slow burn, friends to lovers, lack of self-editing probably, etc. *This fic is also LONG AF so I would advise y'all to start reading this when you have nothing else to do*

I'll rate this one as a T. Enjoy, folks!

George checked the clock on the wall again and sighed gently.

You were still getting ready.

As much as it disappointed him, George agreed-- well, more like offered-- to drive you to your blind date one of your girlfriends set you up on.

It's not that he wasn't excited or proud of you for getting yourself out there. He knew you'd been meaning to do that since graduating school.

He was just frustrated at the fact that whichever lucky man was going on a date with you that night wasn't him.

When he found out about the date, he immediately vocalized his distrust for the mystery person, despite knowing absolutely zero about him. You seemed heartbroken at that, and to make it up to you, he offered to drive you to the date.

So there he was, sitting on the sofa in the living area of your flat, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

George had taken you to school dances in the past, and while your mother let you wear makeup to them, it never took you this long to apply it.

You were definitely dressing to impress tonight.

"Lucky man," he just mumbled under his breath at the thought of that boy.

You and George had been friends since you were children, and he deemed you his Best Friend Forever only an hour into your first playtime.

You spent your days as children riding your bikes to the park to play, and helping each other with homework at each other's houses every night.

However, that sort of platonic "buddy-buddy" dynamic changed when the both of you hit puberty.

It wasn't until a boy at George's school questioned him if you were his girlfriend, that George realized he had a crush on you. Some of his friends had girl friends, and they were always teased about whether or not they were dating, but this was the first time anyone had put you and George together.

After this discovery, (which he would endlessly thank the young boy who opened his eyes to the truth in the first place) George began to notice lots of little things about you that he hadn't before.

You would run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head during hugs, you never took your eyes away from him when he was speaking; there hadn't been one time to name that you'd ever made him upset or angry, but more or less excited, and free, and joyous.

And not to mention, the way you called him "Georgie" made his heart pound so loud and hard in his chest that he might as well have just completed a marathon...

He was in love with everything only when you were around.

Actually, as awkward as George thinks it is, Paul helped him realize he was physically attracted to you.

The boys were on their way to George's after school, a few years after George realized he had a little crush on you, and the teenagers both caught sight of you watering the front garden of your home at the request of your mother.

George stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his mouth hanging open as he watched you do your thing. After being enrolled in his boy's school, you never had much time to see one another, as much as it hurt him; so he cherished every moment he could see you.

"If her ma catches you out the window starin' at her daughter's arse the way you're doin' right now Harrison, they'll rip your tongue right out."

George's face went bright red, and he turned to look at Paul in horror, slapping him on the arm for saying such a thing. "I wasn't staring at her like that!" But he couldn't help but steal a glance at your behind since it was now the topic of discussion, though he really didn't want it to be.

Paul knew George felt compelled to say something to you, and he smirked as George awkwardly raised his hand to wave as he called to you from the other side of the street.

"H-hey, Y/n!"

You turned around, and grinned at who you'd seen.

"Hey Georgie! Hi Paulie!" You twiddled your fingers at them, and George's stomach churned in jealousy at the fact you had a nickname for Paul, as well.

"Your garden looks beautiful, Ms. Y/l/n!"

Paul stole George's line. He fucking stole his line!

"A-and you look just as lovely as ever!" George added to one-up his friend.

You put a hand to your heart. "You boys make my heart sing." George took pride in your words despite them partially being for Paul as well.

"We need to see each other more, yeah?" George never expected his question to really get him anywhere, but he was wrong.

"Why not tonight? I don't have any homework and my parents are leaving town 'round five for the weekend to visit my auntie and uncle."

George's answer came quick, and effortlessly. "I'll be 'round for six. Sound good?"

"Perfect! I'll see you tonight then." You waved to the boys again, and then went back to watering the garden after bidding farewell.

The rest of the walk home was just Paul making fun of how lovestruck George was with you, and by the time they got to his house, just down the road from yours, Paul looked over at his buddy and smiled.

"No wonder you value your time with your darlin' over there so much, Magpie. Looks like she would definitely be a fine birdie in bed."

George looked over at Paul, eyes wide, and his voice broke. "... What?!" The thought of going to bed with you never crossed his mind-- well, until that moment.

"Hey, her folks'll be gone by the time you go over! You can make your move then! It's perfect!" Paul's words laced with excitement made George feel panicked, and the boy shook his head worriedly after a moment. "M-maybe it's not the best idea to go tonight..."

"Why not? All you ever wanna do is be alone with her!" Paul set a hand on the other boy's shoulder when he didn't answer. "What's up, George?"

"Paul, I've never even kissed her. She doesn't even know I like her like that! What if she likes someone else?! What do I even do?!" Paul was the biggest heartbreaker George knew. He'd had like... ten girlfriends since they met, and he kissed a whole three of them. They didn't last long, much like the fate of other young relationships, but George took Paul's advice as serious guidance; he needed to in a time like this.

"You just need to be calm. Take some deep breaths. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I know you will."

That night, George had many opportunities to dive in for a kiss, or mention his feelings for you; some of those opportunities he even believed you encouraged, but he didn't budge out of utter fear of rejection. George knew for a fact that Paul was going to facepalm when he asks him for details on the visit to your place.

Instead, the night only consisted of talking, and the only contact you made were a couple of hugs and a kiss on the cheek (which left George a stumbling mess again), though you did agree to spend more time together, which is how your friendship lasted so long.

He was so close to having you, and because he was too scared to make the move Paul (and maybe you) were encouraging him to make so long ago, you slipped through his fingers; and since, the thought of not being able to have you that way never left his mind.

Especially not when you were now a gorgeous young lady, blindly torturing poor George, who beat himself up every day because he lost his chance.

You were like a piece of artwork to George. You could be loved, admired, and looked at by him, but he could never hold you or touch you.

And George hated that.

George wanted you to be his girl.

And you were his girl-- well, in a twisted way. You were always with him, smiling and laughing about nothing and everything, holding onto each other in your darkest nights and guiding one another through personal struggles...

But when other boys started to want you too, George wanted to make it a point to keep the majority of them away.

Some didn't heed George's threats and went on to pursue you anyways, only to be turned down on your front steps by yourself. George never understood why you never reciprocated anybody's feelings, but it's not like he was verbally complaining.

And that's what lead up to tonight. George had wanted you for so long, and the sudden knowledge of a blind date had him in shock, especially since this was your very first time giving in and agreeing to go.

It killed him to know some rando was going to appear out of thin air to whisk you away, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and eventually put his hands on you, thinking his love for you is stronger than any other despite knowing absolutely nothing about how you should be loved, and treated...

But George hid his fury from you because you were excited about this date.

And he would do anything for you.

George's rage-inducing, mind-racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut from behind him. He turned his head, heart in his throat, and you stepped into the room.

You wore a lovely high-waisted navy dress, and a pair of black flats. Your hair was half down, the rest coming together at the back of your head by a matching clip-on bow.

As expected, your makeup was quite noticeable. The burgundy colour of your lips and dark brown eyeshadow had George's head spinning, and he couldn't resist ogling at the way that dress fit you so well...

"So… How do I look? Like, if we were about to go on a date..."

A date? Us? We?!

George's palms began to sweat, and his heart did somersaults. If only.

It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging slightly ajar, and after snapping it shut, he swallowed in embarrassment, not daring to look anywhere but your eyes again in fear of falling victim to your appearance again.

Imagine not being able to trust your eyes?

"... What would you think?"

George squeaked, his lips moving hesitantly though he didn't make a sound. His face was surely an embarrassing shade of red, and the longer he waited into answer, the more anticipated you looked for a response.

George rose to his feet and approached you, bravely deciding to give you another good onceover after a deep breath, though he kind of lost all sense of feeling in his legs when you smiled at him with that perfect mouth of yours...

"Wow." George sighed, eyelids falling heavy over his brown irises as he admired you.

"I just... you... wow, Y/n." He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence with the way you were staring at him like that.

God, he was absolutely smitten with you.

Your eyes shone joyously as you placed your hand on your heart, and George, as impossible to him as it seemed, fell so much more in love with you than he was just moments before. Your presence rendered him speechless, and the thought inflated your ego a lot more than you would have expected it to.

George remained silent, but his gaze was still glued to you. He'd looked at you for long enough in his life to probably draw you perfectly by memory, but he still took his time to drink in what he was given; because who knew if he'd ever be able to see more of you than this?

"I... I'm-- I'm speechless, is what I am." He cleared his throat after a moment and said, "I... honestly hope my eyes are doing all the talking for me."

"Aw, you're just a sweetiepie, aren't you?"

You beamed at George, blushing as you took another step toward him. "Well Georgie... if you keep looking at me and sweet-talking the way you are..." your warm words were carefully chosen, and it was obvious that George was hanging into every single word you were saying.

"I may just have to pass on this date and spend tonight with you." Your eyelids fell heavy over your eyes, and you offered George a smile that was suggesting something maybe not so innocent.

"Wh-what?!"

"... I said I'm ready to go." You raised your eyebrow in a little confusion at George's flustered state.

Oh my fucking God she didn't even say that?!

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"... R-right, yes, of course." George shook his head as if to rid his brain of the idea of tricking him like that again. He offered his arm out to you, and you linked yours with his before walking to the door together.

You passed a mirror on the way out, and George caught a glimpse of the both of your reflections, and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He looked so happy to be with you in that moment.

And you looked so happy to be leaving to spend time with another man.

George just hoped at least the reflection of him and you were going on this date together, and both of those smiles were meant for each other.

George pulled up to whatever restaurant this guy wanted to meet you at, which was on the other side of town. George did not approve of this and even reminded you of this on the way there, though you insisted you'd be fine, like you had the couple of times he mentioned this before.

You looked at him after he threw his car into park, and he gave you a little smile after a moment, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You do look beautiful, Y/n. This guy... he's very lucky."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you believe me."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you smiled sadly, and leaned in to kiss George's cheek. His skin darkened to pink beneath your lips before you could pull away and leave the car with another goodbye, though his ears were ringing and he missed your final farewell.

She doesn't believe me...

George waited until he saw you were seated in the restaurant to put his car back into drive, but something kept him from lifting his foot off the brake. He watched you adjust your silverware at your table, and clasp your hands together in wait.

... Maybe George wanted to wait for this guy to show up.

But would he really want to kill himself by spying on you and watching you fall for someone who wasn't him over the course of one night?

That was the question that made him decide to look back, and pull out of his parking space before he could spot anyone even go near the building. He was in drive and speeding home moments later.

The car ride back to his flat was a quiet one. George kept the radio off, and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel the whole time as if he were almost impatient to get home and do nothing.

Every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes stare back at him, it just reminded him that his reflection left that restaurant alone and just as disappointed as his real counterpart.

It wasn't long before George pulled into his building's parking space and sulked out of his car, slamming the door shut. His eyes and nose were burning from the assault of unfallen tears.

He dropped you off to meet this guy. This was all on him this time.

George loved you. He loved you with all his heart, enough to swallow his pride-- sacrifice his happiness for your own.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, dropping you off that night felt like he was letting you go.

And was he?

He pretty much stumbled through the door because his fucks to give for himself were pretty much nonexistent at this point. He kicked his shoes off, not caring if he scuffed up the wall with black marks.

He just wanted to have a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and hide from everyone.

And that's just what he did.

His shower was well over an hour long, and that's where he broke down and cried for the majority of the time. He cried about you, and the situation his own decisions put himself in. He cried in jealousy for the threat sweeping you off your feet right now, and he cried as if that was the last night he'd ever see you again.

When he got out of the shower, well after the stream went cold, he had no more tears to shed. He was dehydrated, and he felt broken. He did a half-assed job of drying himself off before leaving the bathroom and collapsing into bed, only a towel secured around his hips.

His face was pressed into his pillow, and he tucked his arms beneath it and submerged himself even further into the soft fabric.

He recently switched detergent to whichever one you regularly used, and he just took in the familiar scent; anything to make him feel more at home without you actually being present...

George had no idea how long he was in that position for, but he fell asleep like that, only to wake to the sound of the phone ringing.

He got up and stumbled out of his room to ease the obnoxiously loud phone by picking up the call, shouting, and hanging up on whoever decided to phone at this hour-- whichever hour it was.

"Yeah," George rasped through the receiver, his tone laced with underlying irritation. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness.

"George..."

"... Y/n?" He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand before you spoke, but your voice made him freeze.

"Oh Georgie..." your voice was breaking over the phone, and he could tell it wasn't the connection.

"Y/n, my Love, what's the matter?!"

"George he... He didn't show." George's heart stopped.

He didn't show.

George's grip closed tighter and tighter on the phone receiver, and he could feel the pure rage bubbling in his chest, and the plastic receiver crackling from the force under his fingers.

"Where are you?" He demanded. "I'm coming right now to get you," George was about to start throwing his shoes on, despite wearing absolutely nothing to start off with, his towel discarded and still on the bed from when he passed out.

"The same place you dropped me off."

God dammit, this fucking guy had you go to the other side of town just to be forgotten about.

It was finally settled: if George ever found out who this guy was, he'd kill him for doing this to you.

"Don't move. Be there in five." As soon as George hung up the phone, he took off to his room. He was ready in record time: under a minute. Up until the day he died, George wouldn't have been able to dress as quick as he did that night, and he never knew how he did it.

What really mattered was that George got to the other side of town in about five minutes, as he said over the phone.

George whipped into the parking lot and got out of the car. He hurried over to the front of the building to go in and search for you, but he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the curb as he grabbed the door handle.

His grip eased on the lockset, and he slowly turned to you. You were facing away from him, arms folded as you tried to shield yourself from the cool evening wind. You had no clue he was even behind you.

George sighed gently, shedding his jacket off and placing it on your shoulders without another word. He could see your whole body relax from the weighted piece of clothing, and he wondered if his scent was comforting for you too, as it was vice versa.

George heard you breathe out, but you sniffled afterwards. It broke his heart to see you like this. George looked around to see if anyone was watching, because if there was a chance this guy was cackling away in a parked car at the sight of you in tears, George would have had no problem kicking his headlights in and slashing his tires.

He dropped to the curb and sat down right next to you, not hesitating to circle his arm around your body.

At his touch, you curled yourself into a ball, and George scooped you up to squeeze you tight. And against his chest, when you knew you were safe from all harm, you gently sobbed.

George let you cry it all out, and the tighter you held onto him, the tighter he held onto you.

"Am I just unlovable George...? Is that it?" Your words were quiet and muffled, but George heard every syllable you mustered.

He pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, and his grip on your arms were firm, but not tight. "Now Y/n, you do not for one second even think you're unlovable. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." His eyebrows were lowered in anger at the very idea of you feeling unloved.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and George's expression softened. He reached his hand up to your face, and he could feel you shaking. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow again.

George wished then more than ever that he was the one who was supposed to see you. He would have shown up.

"Y/n, you deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I’d make sure sitting alone on the curb, stood up, would be the last place you'd ever find yourself, especially when you were so excited to go out..."

George didn't know where his little spurt of confidence came from, but he was more focused on the words he was choosing to use with you, and what he was all going to say.

"... If I were yours...?" You sniffled again, cheeks and the tip of your nose turning pink and George paused at the sudden realization.

You still had a chance to be his.

And all because that boy didn't show up, he still had time to figure out how he could pull it all off; but it had to be tonight.

He took a deep breath.

"I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you. I just... I sometimes wonder why you were never mine. Why you're not mine..." his voice lowered throughout the sentence, and the end of his confession was barely above a whisper.

You watched George for a moment, lips parted, as if you couldn't believe your ears, and the young man panicked a little, deciding to disregard his last words before it suddenly became the topic of discussion.

"Oh, my Love," George's eyes suddenly saddened as he reached out to wipe away your fresh tears and smeared makeup with his thumb. Your bottom lip trembled at the contact, and he sighed.

"Just because he didn't show up doesn't mean your evening has gone to waste." He stood up and turned to look down at you.

"The night is still young." He then held his hand out in front of you, and you looked at it for a moment as if you didn't know what he wanted from you.

"Y/n... give me one night. Let me show you how a man should always treat you."

He wasn't quite sure if he just unintentionally asked you on a real life date, or if you thought of all this as an act, but even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it gave George the chance of a lifetime to at least pretend you were his, even if this opportunity only lasted one night.

"Please."

You didn't move at first, but George was patient. You eventually slowly reached your hand out, and George helped you up, not making the effort to let go of you afterwards.

George looked up at the restaurant, and did a double take. "... You... you don't even like fancy places like this, am I wrong?" All you could think about when looking at him was that he knew you so well.

"A place like this on a first date is a clear sign he'd leave halfway through and I'd be stuck with the bill." George smiled a little, and so did you.

You wiped your final stray tear from your cheek and George gave your other hand a squeeze. "... I'd rather get a burger and go for a walk, to be honest."

"Then that's what we'll do," George confirmed with a nod. It was settled, then.

George and you strolled to the car, still hand-in-hand, and he courteously opened your door to help you in. He ran over to the other side afterwards and climbed in behind the wheel before pulling out and taking off to find somewhere for you both to eat.

You both came across this quiet burger place downtown, and the both of you were able to get a booth in the back for privacy so you could both scarf down your meals in peace.

George ordered the same food you did, and you both settled on sharing a milkshake together (a single milkshake eventually became two).

"God," you looked around the nearly empty joint before turning your gaze back to George. "Do you know how much more comfortable I feel in here?"

"Even when you're dressed like you belong in a dress shop window?" George smiled around his straw and you matched his grin. "Shut up. At least my hair is brushed out."

The poor guy had no clue until now that he forgot to comb his hair out after his depression shower, embarrassingly clawing his fingers through his locks to at least tidy up the mess on his head.

You just laughed out that you were teasing him, and the joyous hiccups from your laughter had George briefly forgetting everything negative that had happened so far that night.

After settling down a little, your food was brought out and you both started eating.

There wasn't much for the both of you to talk about other than the part of your day when you weren't together, and it wasn't like George wanted to mention what happened to him in the last two hours or make you upset by talking about your night.

Instead you both settled on joking about old times. Before the both of you knew it, George had you giggling and smiling once again before your dessert even came, and when the waitress came around to your table with your two-person cookie skillet, you grinned even wider.

You thanked the waitress before she went on her way, and you looked up across the treat to George, whom you were half expecting to be drooling over the cookie. Instead, he was in a dream-like trance, soft gaze fixed on you, and only you. You weren't too sure if he even knew the skillet was in front of him, he was so distracted.

"George...?" You called to him gently as to not frighten him when coming back down to reality. His response was almost immediate, like he could hear you.

And maybe he did.

"... I'm sorry, I don't know how many times I've tried to say this already tonight but have chickened out, but you look just..." George was examining every inch of you that he could see and you blushed, casting your eyes down to the table.

"Angel, look at me." George reached over the table and rested his hand over yours. You lifted your head to look him in the eye, and he hesitated for a moment. Your full attention flustered him, then again it always did, but he took a deep breath.

"You look heavenly, Y/n."

You said nothing. This time, he had you speechless, but nothing wasn't the response he was looking for.

"Dontcha believe me...?" His question echoed through your brain, and you blinked. George scanned your eyes after giving your hand a squeeze. He knew you had something to say, and he was at the edge of his seat in anticipation for your words.

"... Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I... when you came out of your room tonight I just... looking at you right now, I'm at a loss for words. Heavenly doesn't even scratch the surface. No word exists that perfectly describes how you look to me. Now, or ever."

There was yet another spurt of confidence that washed over George. He had a feeling his words and actions were getting the both of you somewhere, especially when his final sentence had you blushing the way you were.

At least he knew he was doing something right.

George's grip on your hand tightened a little, and he flipped your hands over so your palm was face-up in his. He brought your hand closer to him, and he kissed your fingertips before leaving a final one at the centre of your palm. His eyes never left your red face as he did this, and he grinned against your hand when you offered him a shy smile.

Oh... she IS actually liking this.

When he pulled away, George looked down at the still-untouched dessert, and he smiled, releasing another nervous breath he was holding as he finally let go of your hand. "Let's finish up so we can go on our walk. Sound good, my Love?"

You only nodded before digging in with him, every nudge of his hand against yours reducing you to a blushing mess, and George, who was gaining more confidence as every second passed, would just smile to himself knowing he was successfully turning the tables on you.

But it wasn't yet the time to give in and confess, as much as George wanted to. He still had a nice long walk to woo you on, and then he had to do the important step of walking you to your apartment door at the end of the night, and God knows that was the part he was dying to get to.

You finished your dessert not long after and George payed the bill. After helping you out of the booth, you'd left hand-in-hand again.

The both of you stepped out into the cool night and you looked up at George. "Are you cold? Did you want your jacket back?"

You were holding it in your other hand since you'd taken it off at dinner, and you shoved it in his direction without another word.

He laughed and took the jacket from you, unfolding it and pulling it back around your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm.

"You'll catch a cold without it. Besides, you look better in it anyways." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, smiling proudly to himself when he pulled away and continued to lead you to the car, deciding it'd be smoother to not turn around and gauge for a reaction from you.

Like before, George courteously opened the car door for you, and closed it when you were in. Their destination was his place. It wasn't for the reason one would think, but the idea of driving you to his home and inviting you in with every intention of walking right past the kettle made George's legs restless.

In reality there was a park down the road from his flat that cut pretty much directly to your own humble abode. You'd walked the trail hundreds of times together to look at the pretty flowers growing in the garden, but something told George that this time, like everything else happening that day, was going to be very different.

When you pulled up to his building he raced you to get to your door for the second time of the night; the first being at the burger place when you first arrived. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, and he didn't let go, even after locking the doors to his car and leading you both down the road.

There was a silence that fell between the both of you. It wasn't bad. You took this time to think about your night, as did George. With every step down the road and into the park you took, the smile on your face only grew wider. As for George, he began to sweat with every step he took.

Every foot forward led him closer and closer to your door, where he was going to finally let everything off his chest and confess to you. The problem was that George's confidence was quickly draining, and this was something he needed to do.

He eventually let go of your hand to wipe his palms off on his pant leg, and at the immediate loss of contact, you were turning to him with a confused look on your face.

"Sorry uh..." he breathed out slowly, cheeks dusted pink. "I-I don't know why, but I'm kinda nervous."

Your look of confusion faded into an unreadable one. "Was it holding my hand?"

George shook his head. "No no, not that, I want to hold your hand."

"So what's the problem?"

He just shook his head again. "Maybe it's just... the stress of making sure tonight is perfect for you."

"What?!" Your reaction was sudden, and George's eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead at your exclamation.

"George, tonight has already been perfect for me! I had a great meal, I'm on a lovely walk with you..." you reached out to take his hand again, and he lifted his gaze from his shoes to look you in the eye. You smiled up at him from under the streetlight, and George smiled back a little.

"Georgie, I would never have asked for a better night." You squeezed his fingers with yours and tugged him forward gently. "C'mon, Magpie. Let's get home. It'll be cooling down soon, and I don't want you walking outside much longer than needed tonight."

George followed behind, but you still took your time coming home since the both of you got caught up in another conversation. This time, it was about the flowers you were passing in the park.

"... I used to water those for you, y'know." He pointed to a cluster of marigolds. To think that was ten years earlier and they still stayed put, growing outwards and stronger than ever.

"I used to check on them every day to make sure they weren't dying. You told me one time you really liked those flowers and I just..." he smiled a little at the memory. "I just couldn't get enough of your smile every time you saw them."

You turned to look up at him. You had absolutely no clue he did that for you. It made you love the flowers even more, and your heart jumped a little when you realized that the marigolds were the very reason George insisted you both took the trail all the tine.

"I'll still come across them when passing flower shops. I always think of you when I see them."

"Wow. George, I... I never knew you paid that much attention to me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

And George didn't say anything after that, especially when you didn't respond to his last comment, which he didn't even mean to say.

By the time George could think up a sentence to save himself from friend-zoning the both of you right then and there, he felt like he'd left it for too long.

His heart was sinking, and he tried to shake off the comment best he could, and walked you the rest of the way home.

His stomach was in a knot as he looked up at your apartment building. The front door to the lobby looked intimidating, and his palms began to sweat again. You slipped your hand out of George's, and it distracted him from his racing thoughts.

"You think I'm gonna just leave you here?" His question was sudden, and you blinked once.

"I'm sorry?" You looked from George, to the apartment door which was ten feet away from the both of you. "But George, I'm home?"

"I have to walk you to your door." You laughed at his response, head thrown back as you sighed. "You mean to tell me you, George Harrison, are gonna walk up five flights of stairs in the next two minutes just to make sure you can hear me lock my door and know I'm safe?"

"Would it be a real date if I didn't?"

There was another beat of silence as George watched your eyes shift from left to right in thought. You pursed your lips a little, and then looked him in the eye.

"... Suppose it wouldn't be then, no."

"Then may I walk you to your door, Y/n?"

You finally answered him with a simple nod of your head, and George reached out to take your hand again. He wordlessly led you to the door which he opened for you, and then brought you to the flight of stairs. Nowhere else to go but up.

In about two minutes, you and George got to the fifth floor. As soon as he entered the hall, it felt like the walls were slowly closing together as you both took quiet, careful steps towards the end of the way.

The entire time, your hands were glued together, and no one let go, even when you were both finally stopped, and standing in front of your door.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Y/n. I know you were saying earlier tonight turned out perfect and everything but..." George's brain was still on that platonic comment he made on the walk.

"George, there is no one I would have rather spent tonight with than you. No one."

George squeezed your hand, and then sighed. "I just wish tonight happened under different circumstances."

"Different circumstances?" You repeated a little confused, and the boy in front of you pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Deep breaths. Here it goes.

"Y/n, ever since I found out about this date, my blood has just been boiling with jealousy for that boy. Hell, I still don't even know his name and I could tell you he isn't good for you."

You looked taken aback. Jealousy was definitely not where you thought he was going with all of this.

"I fell in love with you, Y/n. Years ago. And because I feared rejection, I didn't want to take my chances and say anything. But the truth of the matter is that I'd be the happiest person alive just to be able to love you openly. I can't stand to see you cry the way he made you tonight."

Again, you stood there, no words coming to mind to respond with. Your silence didn't make George stop.

"To think for years my feelings for you haven't gone away. I've always thought you felt the same, yet you were never mine." George paused. "When can this boy get you back again, Y/n?"

There was a long silence, his eyes searching yours for your answer, and you were staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

"I-- if I'd known-- I never thought-- George, I had no clue." He could see the lost look on your face, and it made his heart ache, especially when your lip began to tremble and your eyes started filling to the brim with tears.

"Why do you think I turned down every guy who's tried to get with me? I just... I never thought you'd love me back, Georgie." His emotions sank into a deep dark guilt. All this time, and you felt the same way about him...

And then he blinked.

You feel the same way about him!

George reached out to you, his hand cupping the side of your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your tears began to fall, and he pulled you into his chest tightly for a moment. "My Love," he mumbled, pulling away just far enough for him to see your face again.

"Oh, even when you're crying, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on..." There was a beat of nothing; just the sound of shallow breaths shared between the both of you before George began to inch in slowly towards you.

"... George, what are you doing...?" Your question was gentle, and you didn't stop him from coming any closer. You didn't want to stop him.

"Something I should've done a long time ago."

His attention fixated to your mouth once before your lips finally clashed together.

For over a decade, George had waited for the moment he tasted your lips; and now that it was here, he was almost scared he wouldn't know what to do.

The both of you were holding your breath since you both felt a little unsure at first, but it was a given, he was kissing his childhood best friend, and you were, too. You kissed back a little, and George exhaled lightly through his nose, a little relieved knowing you were getting a little more comfortable with the situation.

George's hands fell to your waist, fingers curling around your body as he eventually pulled you even closer. You parted your lips a little, and he bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away after hearing you gasp.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm--" George could barely rush an apology out before you pulled him down to kiss him again, and pushing him backwards until his back was flat against your door. He watched as you closed the space between you again, and your lips were on his again.

His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and all the boy could remember thinking about was how blissful it all was in that moment. George threw his arms around you and started pushing back just a little.

You pulled away from him to gasp in a breath, George's hands grabbing your arms and pinning you against your door so he could put you in the place he was moments before; to give you the moment to experience just a fraction of all the love he would be able to eventually give to you.

His lips briefly found the crook of your neck and you moaned quietly as George sucked at your skin a little, which only resulted in him pulling away just to lean back in to kiss your lips and swallow your pleasant hums.

You eventually pulled away to face him again, lips swelled and pink, and breaths quick. You never thought you'd have so much trouble breathing while kissing someone.

Then again, it's not everyday that the man you're kissing is George Harrison.

"I know it's rare to ask this on a first date but..." George leaned down to attach his lips to the column of your throat, and he hummed against your skin when you moaned gently, delaying your question for a moment.

"... Did you maybe wanna, I don't know, come in, stick around for some tea?"

"Is that even a question?" George asked lowly against your neck, and you smiled. You reached into your purse to retrieve your apartment keys, which you blindly stuck into the keyhole since George was back to kissing you again, and the both of you stumbled through the door as soon as you got it open.

You and George kicked your shoes off after shutting the door, and you pushed him up against the wall in the front corridor to kiss him once again.

Ten years was way too long for the both of you to be deprived of one another any further, and George gladly let you migrate your lips to his neck after a moment, tilting his head back for you to make things a little easier.

With your head buried into his neck and your arms circled around one another, George lazily opened this eyes to watch himself in that same mirror across the hall he looked into a few hours prior.

All the boy could do was smile to himself, breathing heavily as he watched your reflection switch to the other side of his neck after leaving a mark on the right side of his throat.

Not only was his reflection successful in this date tonight, but George himself pulled off the biggest risk he could imagine and it paid off.

He finally got the girl of his dreams.

----------------------------------------

A/A/N: honestly, this fic lives rent free in my head and it has been since I wrote it, so I gotta show it off to y'all. Again, I know it was long, but I really hope you enjoy it <3

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@rogermeddow

(message me if you want to be added to any of my oneshot/queen/beatles/chapter taglists)

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #paul mccharmly

492 notes · View notes

irrelevantwriter · 4 years

Text

Unspoken

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, public sex, car sex, unprotected vaginal sex, mild choking, mention of bodily fluids, shitty exes, petty Rio (yaaaass)

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: Part 6. Feelings were shared. Where does that leave you and Rio? A dinner with your ex? A car in a dark parking lot?

A/N: The last part is here! Though as I said yesterday I am definitely not calling this the end. I have lots of ideas for Rio and I’ve thought about adding to this in the future as inspiration hits. I’ve also thought about developing a Rio x OFC fic and/or something for Beth x Rio. I’ve had a lot of fun writing and exploring his character so I’m nowhere near close to done. And I also need to shoutout the ladies from the discord for this part. They suggested it and I ran with it (as I do). So big thank you to @woahitslucyylu, @whatupitshuff, and @fvckthisbxtchup! You inspired this. Be proud of yourselves. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 4 here

*Read Part 5 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

He sighed, turning off the engine and checking his phone one last time for messages. The restaurant lot was full, patrons shuffling in and out of the newest establishment in downtown Detroit. It was in a historic building that had obviously recently been renovated, though efforts had been made to keep its old world charm. The restaurant was a place he’d yet to visit and this impromptu pop-up offered the perfect opportunity for him to do so.

Rio exited his vehicle into the cool air of the night. It wasn’t frigid, but it was enough for those outside to don a jacket. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he made his way to the entrance, noting the stylish fashions of most of the restaurant's occupants. He didn’t worry about the supposed dress code. Wearing black often gave him an air of sophistication, even with the tattoo splashed across his throat. It was a duality he’d mastered over the years. The tattoo kept him grounded to his roots. His nature. His business. The wardrobe kept him aligned with the civilian world. People would often eye his throat warily, suspicion clear in their gaze. But one look at the clean lines of his pressed shirt and somehow they’d come to the conclusion that he’d made a mistake as a young kid. Got involved in the wrong crowd. Hadn’t gotten around to getting the hideous atrocity on his neck removed. They believed what they wanted to believe.

Cowards.

He smiled at the passing elderly couple as he held the door open for them, their smiles making their eyes crinkle at the edges. They probably thought he worked there. He stepped through the threshold, taking in the dim lighting and soothing melody of jazz that filtered through the space. His eyes scanned the open area with practiced diligence until he found what he was looking for amongst the black booths that ran the length of the right wall. They were high and designed for privacy, but he could spot your face anywhere.

The hostess greeted him and he politely gestured to the booth you sat at, easing by the podium as she took a moment to trail her eyes along his body. He smirked at the blatant attempt at flirtation, not bothering to return the sentiment. Instead, he weaved through the aisles of tables as he made his way towards you.

Your brow was tensed, your lips pursed. The discomfort showed on your features, all the way down to your stiffened shoulders. He watched as you took a sip from your wine, nodding along to whatever the person across from you had said. When he came into view, your eyes widened, almost comically so. He grinned, finding your shock amusing. It was the exact reaction he was going for.

“Hey mama, sorry I’m late.” He announced as he made it to the table. He ignored the couple sitting with you and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, feeling you sway into it despite your obvious surprise.

“Uh...h-hi.” You choked out, shifting over so that he could slip in next to you.

He shed his jacket as he sat down, pulling you close once he’d gotten comfortable. You let him maneuver you, still trying to understand why he was there. He could see the slight panic in your eyes, as if he were here for business purposes, crashing a dinner as a strategic move. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

His eyes finally met Paul’s, your ex, and then slid over to his fiancé’s at his left. They both looked just as stunned as you, except for the displeasure that radiated from Paul’s gaze and onto him. His fiancé, Erica, he thought her name was, looked intrigued; curious about his arrival.

“Sup, man…” Rio greeted, extending his hand for Paul to take. He let it hang in the air for a moment, eyes trying to remain unflinching against his. After only a second, the man broke eye contact. He reluctantly took Rio’s hand and shook it, his palm sweaty and warm.

“Who is this?” Erica questioned after she realized no one was going to introduce him.

“Oh, um...sorry. This is Rio.” You replied shakily, looking at him as if trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

He noticed your nervousness and rested his left hand on your bare knee, gently squeezing in silent reassurance. He felt you relax immediately, your body uncoiling beside his and once again seeking out his touch.

“Nice to meet you.” Rio smoothly directed to Erica, taking her offered hand. She smiled back in return, her lips painted a vivid pink. It was a harsh shade and one that made her look like she’d been playing dress-up. He knew from the comments you’d made to him that Erica was not the woman you’d caught Paul with during your marriage. It’d been someone different. Someone from his firm. But you’d quickly pieced together that there had been many throughout the years. All slightly younger and the exact opposite to you in appearance.

Rio let his eyes covertly take in the woman across from him. She wasn’t unattractive. But she also wasn’t someone he’d ever think about leaving you for.

“You’ve met Paul. And this is Erica.” You stated, hand gesturing to the uncomfortable-looking couple across the table.

Rio nodded in their direction, Paul’s stare still unmoving. He sat straight and rigidly, the arm that sat around Erica’s shoulders now taut and awkward looking. He found satisfaction in that. He let his own arm rest comfortably across your shoulders, his fingers dancing along your upper arm in soothing patterns. He felt you shiver in response.

“We didn’t know you were coming.” Erica said with a smile, giggling for whatever reason.

“Oh yeah, last minute change of plans.” He propped his chin into his hand and met your eyes, seeing the relief in them.

You’d told him about the dinner three nights ago when he’d been at your house. He was in your bed, lounging against the headboard after he’d fucked you on the stairs. And then once again on the dining table. You were checking your phone, mumbling curses to yourself when he’d asked you what was wrong. You’d complained about your ex and how he was now suggesting a dinner alone with you and his fiancé to “talk some things over”. The whole thing seemed innocuous enough to him, but you’d insisted Paul had an ulterior motive, which according to you, never meant anything good. You’d been worried ever since. Anxious about having dinner alone with them and dreading the reason he wanted to meet.

Rio had funneled the information out, not giving it much thought because your ex was none of his business. But something had struck him the night before when you’d called. He’d been going over some of his books, mind completely focused on numbers, when his phone rang. You were in the bathtub, voice tinged with ease and alcohol. Just wanted to hear your voice, you’d said. And for some unknown reason, that sliver of vulnerability made his chest feel tight. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

The newest development in your situation was slow-going. After that night in his car and the semi-proclamation of feelings, you’d both taken cues from the other, waiting for someone to speak up and declare...something. None of that had happened though. What had happened was amazing sex on the regular and sporadic outings to dine. He preferred not to call them dates because they really hadn’t been. They were usually moments right after a round of rigorous sex when neither of you had eaten. It was usually a decision agreed upon mutually and without fanfare. Just two people who were hungry and accompanying the other. The barest of human needs. Just like the sex. It was satiation.

But even he knew that there was an underlying current of unsaid words. Which is why your tipsy admission had startled him. For so long you’d both denied what was so obvious. It was practically a subconscious act now. And he realized, as long as he let you dictate the speed, you’d come to him. As long as he didn’t push or ask for more, you’d show up. And you had. So now, so was he.

“Something to drink?” The waiter asked, interrupting the tense moment.

“Vodka on the rocks, please.” Rio replied, the waiter nodding and disappearing into the fray.

“So, Rio…” Paul finally spoke up, clearing his throat as he straightened his tie. It seemed he’d found his voice. “I take it you don’t actually deal with home plumbing.” He said the sentence snidely and with a poignant glance in your direction. “So what is it that you do?” He finished, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

He could feel you tense up beside him.

“I own a couple of businesses.”

“What kind of businesses?” Paul retorted, an eyebrow raised in doubt.

“The kind that do business.”

A moment of silence stretched out as Paul took in the nonanswer. Rio could see the wheels working in his head, see him weighing the pros and cons of arguing with him on the matter. The man opened his mouth, more than likely to continue to probe, but Erica beat him to the punch.

“How’d you guys meet?” She implored with an excited gleam, clearly hoping for a magical meet-cute moment that had never happened.

“Bar bathroom.” Rio said with a smug smile, enjoying the sputtered cough you expelled.

“He means outside of a bar bathroom. We sorta ran into each other.” You hastily lied, biting into your lip when his arm shifted off your shoulders and under the table, landing on your knee once again. He let his palm glide over the swatch of skin afforded to him by your dress, feeling your thighs clench together the higher he got.

“That’s adorable.” Eric chimed in, a genuine smile plastered on her pink lips. The same couldn’t be said for Paul, who looked as if he’d tasted something bitter.

Rio snickered because nothing about what either of you had been doing in the time since you’d met was adorable. It was the exact opposite. And he thrived off of it.

He turned his attention on you, hovering close to your ear, his fingers trailing along your inner thigh as he ignored the other diners at the table. “You good, mama?” He rasped, knowing what the action did to you.

Your eyes weren’t on him. They were shifting anxiously between Paul and Erica, concerned with the proximity of his lips and hand. Of course, they couldn’t see his arm disappearing beneath your dress, but they did notice the intimacy of the moment. Erica’s eyes looked on in admiration while Paul’s darted to anywhere but the two of you.

“Yeah.” You breathlessly replied, your own hand coming to rest on his. You squeezed and then set your gaze on his, reassuring him.

“You sure?”

His eyes flicked to your mouth, the flesh wet from both your lipstick and your tongue. He licked his own as he got lost in thoughts of tasting you.

You nodded, your eyes following the movements of his tongue, seemingly just as entranced as he was.

The moment was shattered with the waiter bringing Rio’s drink and taking food orders. It was for the better. He couldn’t very well fuck you on the table, though he’d save that fantasy for nights when he couldn’t have you.

Everyone kept the conversion polite and vague, choosing to stay away from certain topics. It was rigid and uncomfortable for everyone involved, unsurprisingly so. The subject transitioned to the kids, upcoming events and appointments being the main points. The food arrived and Rio busied himself with eating an exquisite dinner. The food was delicious and he had a fleeting thought about investing into something like this. He owned the bar and had arrangements with other small businesses, but he’d been hesitant to enter the restaurant realm. It was tricky. There were always new places offering something no other eatery could. He’d have to get with the owner, Joel Pinet. Rio knew him from around the neighborhood. His own bar was only a couple of blocks away and he’d met Joel on more than one occasion, the man a regular in his establishment.

“What’d you mean you won’t be here this summer?”

Your question brought him back to the moment, the irritation in your voice making him alert. His dark eyes settled on Paul as he twirled his fork in his pasta. The action annoyed Rio.

“Erica and I are going to Europe over the summer.”

“He promised to take me.” She chimed in, giddy and blissfully unaware of the anger mounting between the exes.

Your narrowed gaze bounced between the two, your irritation palpable. You were stiff as your spine straightened against the booth. “What about the kids? The summer is when they have time with you. They look forward to it.”

Paul raised his hand in a placating gesture and Rio noticed how your lips pinched together in response, as if physically restraining yourself from saying something. You were a better person than he was. The man across from him was barely that, and barely one that deserved your attention, much less the wasted love of a ruined marriage.

“I’ll make it up to them. But we’ve had this trip planned for months.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“Because I knew how you’d react.”

“Yeah, because the summer is your time, Paul.”

Paul sighed, as if frustrated with your reasonable argument. “So we’ll switch. You’ve had to have my help with alternating weekends when stuff comes up.”

“For work. Not a trip to fucking Europe.” You seethed, voice low but spewing with venom.

Rio only looked on, silently admiring your ability to not beat the guy’s ass. He deserved it. He was a piece of shit husband and an even bigger piece of shit father.

“The kids will be fine. We’ll be gone for a few weeks and then they can come stay with us for the remainder of the summer.” He brushed off your concerns, seeing no real issue with forgoing time with his children to peruse foreign streets.

Rio scoffed at the boldness. The action didn’t go unnoticed.

“Something to say?” Paul directed at him, his chest posturing in a show of male dominance.

Rio laughed lowly, amused by the man’s antics. How you’d ever ended up with someone like that was a mystery to him. After seeing your determination, your fire, Rio had been enthralled. He’d recognized something raw inside of you. Something that matched him. Outwardly, you appeared to be opposites. Strangers from two different worlds. But inside you were more alike than either of you really understood. There was something waiting to be uncaged within you. Waiting for a reason to be unleashed. He was going to get you there. Because you deserved to see your potential, even if the bitch of a man across from you didn’t.

“Nah man...you clearly got the situation under control.” Rio taunted, the sarcasm dripping from his words. He clenched his jaw and swallowed, two sets of eyes watching the bird at his throat move. It was his own alpha display. His own performance of just who king dick was. And it wasn’t your ex.

When it was clear that Paul wasn’t going to rise to the occasion, Rio drained the last of his drink and turned to face you. He lowered his lips to your ear and spoke so only you could hear.

“You ready to go, darlin’?”

“Yeah.” You said with a sharp nod of your head, chin held high in reproach towards the man opposite you.

Rio stood, grabbing his jacket and helping you slide out of your seat. His eyes never wavered from Paul’s as he did. You smoothed out your dress, clutching your purse and not bothering to acknowledge the couple at all. He dug into his pocket for his wallet and made a show of grabbing a few crisp hundred dollar bills. He pulled out two and threw them on the table.

“Dinner’s on me. Keep the change, yeah?” He offered with a smirk, letting his hand come to rest on your lower back. He led you away, keeping his touch secured to you as you stepped into the night.

You released a sigh immediately and then inhaled, eyes closing as if centering yourself. He watched you closely, wondering if he’d see tears in your eyes when you opened them. Instead, he saw amusement. A laugh erupted from your throat, your chest shaking as the volume grew with each passing second. He only watched, entertained by the sound. For the first time that evening, he let his eyes trail along your body. Your dress was black and velvet, hitting just below the knee. There was a small slit up the side, exposing the smooth flesh of your thigh. A tie was cinched around your waist, accentuating your figure, while short sleeves helped stave off the chill in the air. The entirety of you was elegant...captivating, and far too striking to be meeting up with your ex-husband for dinner.

Your laughter died down when you noticed his gaze. You stepped towards him, holding your purse in front of you so that your cleavage pulled his focus. He licked his lips and waited as you crowded his space, your perfume swirling into a fog around him. He studied your face, noting the tiny details he often overlooked. You were beautiful, a fact that never went unnoticed by him, but sometimes he forgot just how much. And he wondered if you’d always been this attractive or if it was just the blinding haze of attraction that made him think so. Either way, he didn’t really care. It didn’t change how much he ached to fuck you.

“How’d you know where I’d be?”

“I got my ways.” He offered, taking in the way your lashes fluttered at him. It was a familiar tell. One he’d come to associate with you flat on your back and gazing up at him, usually with his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, sobering for a second so that he could read the honesty across your features. There was that vulnerability again. And his chest tightened just as it had the previous night.

“No problem.”

You took a step back and waited as he began to follow you to your car. You’d parked along the side of the building and he noted how full the lot still was. You halted once you noticed his SUV next to your car, stopping at the bumper and turning to face him.

“Your car?” You asked, nodding in the direction of the black G Wagon.

He wordlessly nodded, once again using the moment to appreciate the way your dress hugged your frame. He appraised your black heels and the deep red polish that adorned your toes, remembering that last time he’d seen you they’d been a light pink. He waited and watched as you walked to the passenger side of his car, fitting yourself in the space between the two vehicles.

“How tinted are your windows?” You asked, the innocence in your words making him suspicious. “Like no one can see in kind of tinted?”

You stared at him as you waited for his reply, biting your bottom lip in a way that could only be described as seductive.

“Yeah, why?”

You grinned, pleased with his answer. His face remained expressionless as you looked around the lot, the area void of other people. You slowly reached under your dress, careful not to expose yourself. Your hands disappeared under the skirt and then reappeared a second later, a scrap of dark green lace trailing down your legs. Your gaze stayed on him as you stepped out of the underwear and dangled them on your fingers, a proud grin making its way onto your lips. You flung the panties in his direction and he caught them against his chest.

“Open the door.” You softly demanded, gesturing to the rear passenger seat.

Rio let your words hang in the air, taking satisfaction in seeing you begin to squirm. There was doubt in your eyes, like perhaps he’d turn you down. You hadn’t caught on to the fact that he could do no such thing.

He took mercy on you, figuring you’d had enough unease for the night and found the key in his jacket pocket, hitting the button. The lights of the car flashed as the vehicle unlocked itself. You sent him a playful smile as you got in without another word, the door closing behind you with a resounding echo. He chuckled and shook his head, biting his lip as he pocketed your panties and walked to the other side of the vehicle. He got in, sliding in next to you and discarding his jacket along the way. He seated himself in the middle and you immediately straddled his lap. His hands found their way under your dress, skimming the soft planes of your thighs.

“So that’s what it takes, huh?” He whispered against your lips, leaning into your touch that ran along the back of his neck.

“What?”

“Me being a dick to your ex. That’s what it takes.” He supplied, hands gliding further under your dress until they began massaging your ass. You moaned at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut as you ground down onto his crotch.

“Takes a little more than that.” You insisted, your hips rocking against his in a sensual rhythm.

“Let me see.” He gruffly commanded, chin angling to the hem of your dress that was bunched around your thighs.

You stilled your hips and did as he requested, lifting the fabric and exposing your bare slit to his hungry eyes. He could see the evidence of your arousal, even in the dark. Your pussy glistened in the muted light of the night, swollen and needy for him like aloe to a scathing burn. He reached forward and ran his index finger along your opening, making you jump at the contact. He instantly became drenched in you, the clear stickiness coating his finger. Your hips searched for a firmer hand, wordlessly begging him to slip past your lips.

“You seem plenty wet for me already, ma.” He taunted, letting his finger press against your clit. You gasped and bit your lip, nails digging into the tops of his shoulders.

“Rio...please,” You pleaded, chasing his touch every time it disappeared from your body.

His dick twitched at the sound of his name falling from your parted lips. It was something you’d only recently started doing, using his name in bed. He was addicted to the sound of it. You always said it with desperation and longing, usually while clinging to him in trembling pleasure.

“What do you need?”

You gripped his wrist and directed his finger into your waiting walls in response. He was overcome with heat and slick immediately. You both released moans that signaled just what it did to you to be so intimately joined.

“That what you need, baby?” He added another finger while his thumb continued to massage your clit. He could feel you clench around him, nipping at your chin as your moans turned to whimpers.

“More.”

“Let me see all of you.” He ordered, his free hand pulling at the neckline of your dress.

You dutifully obeyed, pulling your arms out of the garment and slipping it down to rest around your waist. The same shade of green that had adorned your lower half also encased your breasts, the lace affording him glimpses of your hardened nipples. He curled his fingers inside of you in reciprocation, reaching up to mouth at your neck. Your hands held him to you, running along his scalp and sending bolts of electricity straight to his dick. He shifted his hips in search of friction, feeling the warmth from between your thighs calling to him.

“Feel good?”

“Yes…” You breathed, unclasping your bra and hurriedly pulling the lace away. He followed your lead and trailed wet kisses across your flesh, his tongue reaching out to taste you. You pushed your chest into him in return.

“You can take more, right mama?” He urged, not bothering to wait for your answer. He added another finger, his movements speeding up as he reached that sweet spot deep within.

“Fuck, fuck…” You cursed, riding his fingers while he sucked at your nipple.

He worked your body like a fine-tuned car, hitting each switch with expert precision. He could read your face, gauge the tension in your limbs the further he brought you to the edge. His guilty pleasure was watching you cum, watching you uninhibited and practically blessing his very existence. He knew if he flicked his wrist more to the left and pressed down on your clit at the same time that you’d call out his name. He knew if he bit down on your breast he’d be rewarded with your pussy fluttering around him. He knew if he told you how good you looked, how good you felt, you’d cum...and hard.

“You look so good like this. Like you belong to me.” He praised. You gasped, throwing your head back, and he knew you were close. “Who gets you like this? Who makes you feel this good?”

“You do.”

“That’s right. No one else.” He affirmed, thrusting his fingers as rapidly as he could at that angle. The muscles in your thighs twitched as you came, tightening around his fingers in a way that made him long for it to be his dick instead. He let you ride out the ecstasy, your body rocking into the stiffness pressed along his zipper. Your head was thrown back, your mouth agape as a litany of cries and moans filtered through the air. He could make out the rasp of his name amongst the sounds. He could feel the surge of moisture as it slid down his hand. You were enraptured; a victim to his touch.

He waited until your body had stilled, the aftershocks having long passed, before he slipped from your clutches. He caught your hooded gaze and slowly took his slickened fingers into his mouth, your essence exploding onto his tongue. He savored you, taking in the way your chest expanded with each breath. Your fingers curled into his shirt and dragged along his chest, your hips dropping down to grind into him. He barely had enough time to remove his fingers before you were pulling his lips to yours. Your tongue coaxed his into your mouth and he could taste the remnants of the wine you’d drank. The alcohol mixed with you, creating an erotic elixir, one that had him intoxicated. He hissed against your lips, bucking his hips when you unzipped his pants and licked your palm in a show of lustful desire.

“I need you. Inside.” You panted between kisses, situating your pussy over him as you stroked his throbbing flesh.

Rio slid his hand up between your breasts and grasped your neck, feeling your pulse jump. He tilted your chin towards him and ensured your eyes were nowhere else but on him.

“Put me in. Go slow.” He squeezed his fingers around your throat as you moved, angling the head of his cock along your folds. You released a shaky breath as you eased him into you, gaze not wavering. He rested against the seat as he took in the view, licking his lips. He tsked and maneuvered your chin back in position when your eyes began to close, the fullness of him stretching you tight.

“Keep going, mama. All of it.”

You held his forearm, the one still attached to your neck, as you bottomed out, your ass finally meeting his thighs. Your pussy sucked him, walls gripping him with an unforgiving strength. You both remained still, relishing the myriad of sensations that assaulted your restless bodies.

“Touch yourself.”

You worked your hands over his arm, cupping your breasts at his request. Your movements mirrored his, matching the force and pressure of how he usually touched you. He was transfixed by you. Utterly lost in the way your body begged for him and still wanted more. He respected your greediness. Could understand the need for more once a craving had been satisfied. It was the business he was in. He was an expert on the matter. And he’d deliver for you.

His left hand dug into the flesh of your ass in a show of impatience. You caught on and started to move, leaning down to nibble at his throat. Your pace was languid, almost lazy as you swiveled your hips. Each down thrust had you rubbing your clit along his pelvic bone, triggering your pussy to spasm.

“Rio...”

There was a warning in your tone. He could hear it clearly as you bounced on his cock, the plea almost drowned out by the slapping of bodies.

“Shit, already?” He asked, somewhat surprised at the rate at which your body was responding to him. He let both of his hands fall to your ass, directing you forward so that he could thrust. You whimpered into his ear as his hips pushed up and into you, hitting deep. You clamped down around him, making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“Right there. Don’t stop.” You gasped, face buried into his neck as he slapped your ass. The hit made you convulse. So he did it again.

The closing in of your walls made him double his efforts. He secured his arm around your waist and held you steady. He kept your pussy at his desired angle as he fucked you, hearing that hitch in your breath that let him know you were on the cusp of orgasm.

“M’gonna cum.” You slurred, primal lust making the words run together. His dick swelled inside of you, his balls tightening with every desperate breath you expelled. He could feel that familiar tingle at the base of his spine start to expand, signaling to him what was coming next. He worked his hand between your bodies, gathering moisture and ravaging your clit. You jerked in surprise, yelping when his touch didn’t retreat or ease up.

“Too much.”

“Nah, you take it, ma. You take it and you cum for me.” Rio provoked, forcing you to abide by his commands.

Seconds later you were doing as he said once again, cumming on his cock with a force that made him grit his teeth. Your body shuddered as barely intelligible words floated from your lips. You nuzzled further into him while he continued to chase his own release. He dug his fingers into your hips and thrust, the rapid speed making the car sway. He could already tell the windows were fogged up, the stench of sex permeating the air. You were boneless as you sat astride him, your soft moans of residual pleasure going straight to his dick, luring him off the edge.

“Fuck,” He growled, feeling the eletric shocks of climax start to claim him. He closed his eyes and buried his face into the crook of your neck, teeth biting down into the otherwise unblemished skin. He held you firm as he emptied his cum and filled you, rivulets already beginning to spill from your connected bodies. His chest moved with the rapid beats of his heart as the entire moment culminated into a drug-level euphoria.

Minutes ticked by as you both struggled to catch your breath and calm your racing hearts. Rio felt you ghost a kiss along his jaw; a low, satisfied laugh making him smirk.

“You think anyone heard us?” You asked, beginning to shift in his arms.

Beyond the fogged windows, the lot was still without people. But who knew who’d walked by in the meantime. The SUV wasn’t necessarily equipped to withhold sound, though it could cause a bullet to ricochet.

“Probably.” He let you sit up, eyes falling to your still naked chest. You both seemed to have an affinity for fucking in public spaces.

You eased forward to kiss him, the action much more intimate than it’d been moments ago. Your fingers trailed along his jaw and combed through his facial hair, a gesture he secretly loved. His own hands skimmed your back, eliciting shivers that radiated down your body.

“I didn’t ask you to do this.” You whispered once you’d pulled away, eyes imploring him to understand what you meant.

He did. He knew what this kind of gesture meant. He’d been truthful in confessing his want for you. It was a selfish need. Something that grew because you’d continuously denied him. And then it’d shattered before it’d even had a chance to become anything. And during that time he’d admitted to himself that he was willing to compromise. To follow your rules. And as a boss who ran his own shit by his own decree, it was difficult to come to terms with. But he’d done it. Why? Because something told him it’d be worth it. Whether for the great sex or the companionship.

Time would tell.

He ran his finger along your cheek, observing the way you fell into the touch. “You didn’t have to.” He assured you, meaning every word.

“Thank you.”

“You already thanked me, darlin’.”

“Well, thank you again.” You smiled, pressing your chest to his.

“Call it even.” He joked, gesturing to the state of your bodies still twisted around each other.

“Let’s get some pizza.” You suggested suddenly, pulling the sleeves of your dress back up, sans bra.

He laughed at both your words and the fact that you were getting dressed with his dick still sheathed inside you. “You hungry?”

“I didn’t get to finish my dinner.” You reminded him, retying the tassel around your waist. His hands sluggishly skimmed your thighs, stopping to squeeze whenever you suddenly straightened. “Oh, what about that food truck you took me to last week? The one with the fried mac and cheese?”

Rio took in your enthusiasm, finding it endearing. He didn’t have to use words to figure out where your head was at in all this. It was written on your face. In your voice. Beaming from your eyes and seeping from your pores. And like so many other things between you, it would go unsaid. For now. Because that’s just how it was. And maybe it was fucked up. But it didn’t invalidate any of the chemistry between you. Words just...weren’t needed. And that was sort of how it had always been.

“I got you.” He assured, patting your ass as he did. You beamed at him, not knowing that his words ran much deeper than a meal.

Rio Tags:

@tomhardydallasstarsgirl

@thebookisbtr

@beardburnsupersoldiers

@nina-nkl

@gemini0410

#rio #rio good girls #good girls rio #rio x reader #rio x you #rio imagine #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #nbc good girls #good girls nbc

1K notes · View notes

inspiteallthedanger · 3 years

Note

Hello! I’m sorry if you have answered this before, but why do you think John went on the trip to Spain with Brian? Do you think he was trying to make a power play, as Paul thinks (or pretends to think)? Do you think Pete Shotton’s account of what happened is accurate? Do you believe John really only told Pete the truth? (Sorry so many parts to this question, feel free to answer what you like)

Hello! I thought for sure I had answered this, but I can't find it now. So let's start again.

First, if you don't know Brain's version of what happened, just go careful because it's got elements of non-con about it. I'll pop it under the tag

Why did John go? Like most things in life, it's not one thing. He got offered a free holiday, he thought it would be good for his career and he was interested in exploring his sexuality. I'm sure all of that was at play.

I don't think the timing was a coincidence; John probably wanted an escape from his commitments and delay settling down. Which also plays into the sexuality stuff. John did (in some ways) have conservative values. He never tried to suggest he wouldn't marry Cyn, he also 'wanted' not to cheat on her (by which I mean he wanted to be the sort of man that didn't do that but was). So, I can see John thinking this was his 'last chance' at exploring his sexuality before he settled down.

I think he liked that Brian wanted him (who doesn't like being desired?), and John was good at knowing how to pull on emotional strings to get what he wanted. So, I have no doubt that even if he didn't plan on sleeping with Brian, he was going with a hint to Brian that he might. Paul seems sure this was why the writing credits were never M/L, although we don’t know how true that is, I don’t think. Not an accident, I'm sure. John went thinking it would help him win over Brian one way or another.

As for what happened, we'll never really know. For me, I guess we have to look at who tells the story and why they might be telling it like that i.e. why would they lie/not know?

For those that said nothing happened:

Paul (and others around John like Cyn) - doesn't know as he wasn't there. John and Brian might just never have told him. He's also incredibly invested in the "John was straight" narrative for a whole host of reasons.

John - coming out was not an option for him. But he said of the Wooler thing that it was internalized homophobia that made him react like that. He also said, "Something nearly happened but didn't". That's interesting to me. Like, there's such a huge range of scope around what that could mean. If John didn't consider it gay until there's penetration (and he sure wouldn't be alone in that interpretation) then that doesn't mean Pete or Brain's accounts are wrong. But regardless, that suggest the potential of desire for it to, if nothing else.

People who say something did:

Pete - the only reason he could have (as I see it) to lie is to sell books. That seems so risky to me. Surely he's got way more stuff that wouldn't also make him a liar and tarnish John's legacy (as it would have been seen then). He also seems to have the same impression as John i.e. "John agreeing to sex and being pleasured by a man doesn't = John was queer". I suppose it's possible John lied to him or he completely misremembered it. But, that's so nuts I don't know what to do with it.

Brian via his friends - bragging rights I guess? But telling them he waited until John was asleep is a wild way to go about that. It seems like he wanted to protect John and made him way more passive. Or, that's actually what happened in which case I'm... not sure how I feel about that for obvious reasons.

So, I think they probably did something. They at least to tried to have some form of sex. I can totally imagine that it was bad/awkward/John (or even Brian) stopped it before the end. That tracks with the vibes of the stories. None of them ring with 'glorious love affair'. I don't get the impression that John enjoyed the experience much. There's no evidence that he pursued anything like it again with an out gay man, for one.

That could be because he didn't enjoy it. It could be the resulting shit show just scared him off. It's also possible, I guess, that he liked it too much and just pushed it so far down he didn't think about it again for years.

Final question, did John not tell anyone else? Who knows. Like, I can believe he only told Pete and then Hunter because they were people he really trusted and knew would 'get' it, and was there at the time. But, I'm sure he told Yoko most things and there are probably some other close friends over the years it's possible he told. But John isn't necessarily one to linger, so perhaps he didn't.

Hope that answers your questions, but shout if not.

#beth rambles #john and spain #i really want that man #to have had positive experiences with gay sex #I just hope Elton/David showed him a good time

21 notes · View notes

starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Petal

college!sebastian stan x reader

masterlist

Summary; Your boyfriend Sebastian has been spending much time studying, hardly sparing himself a break. Finally, he sees the pros of taking one

Warnings; smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, fluff

divider by @firefly-graphics

Sebastian was to be home any minute, he had been prolifically stressed from his classes regarding his law certification, and you had decided to exhibit him a well deserved distraction that would surely take his wired brain off from the course that was practically running through his veins at this point.

It seemed that at every waking moment, he was doing something to aid his studies, and whilst that was great that he was so dedicated to passing for this insane qualification, he did need to take breaks here and there. He wasn't the only one suffering from his late nights, and his resurrection from slumber at the crack of dawn, no. You were too, you missed him, despite being in the same apartment and room as him for the majority of his spare time.

He acted as though he had no time to spare, but you were well acquainted with his schedule, especially by now. The only difference was, that he had no occupation for a moment to relax with you, or by himself. His showers took five minutes every morning and evening, it was as though he were rushing to clean himself so that he could proceed to go back to putting his nose in a book, or searching specifics online.

But tonight, you were going to cut him off. If he didn't endure a moment of mindlessness, then you were sure to go mad yourself. You were keening for his touch, all you had received in the past few weeks were chaste kisses on both your lips and forehead, as well as verbalised 'I love you's. Perhaps it was selfish, he was striving towards a great achievement in his life, and you wanted a little bit of attention, but you knew he was holding himself from any relief also.

From the minimal time that he spent under the cold stream of the showerhead, he didn't have enough time to rub one out, and there was no fear that you had of him seeing another woman. Sebastian was not like that at all, and you had the clarity of him being in the kitchen half the time, typing away on his laptop, as he ran over some old notes and updated them.

Currently, he was out, he was in his lecture. There was a span of fifteen minutes from the time that he would be on the walk home, and you knew that was exactly how long that took in your shared student apartment, because you too endured your studies. But once more, your own were pushed to the side as you speculated your appearance in the silver tapestry of your mirror.

Your hand steadied on your right hip as you posed in front of it, twisting your waist to find the most attractive angle for you in your new wear. The underwear was tight, and not to mention, completely sheer. It's see through nature made wearing it practically pointless, but considering his current frustrations, it was only fair to give something to rip off of you.

Truthfully, you had to admit, you looked damned good. There was no way he would choose studying law over ravishing your body, a spark jolted through your body as the door behind you opened, and with a seductive bite to your lip, you turned around, only to scream and cover your body with your hands, or at least to the best of your ability. "Holy fuck, don't you know how to knock?!"

"I didn't think I'd have to because your human dildo isn't here!" Anthony defended himself, having turned around, as the image of you, one of his best friends, practically in the nude, burned behind his eye balls. The fact that he had seen you made you feel sick, this was not how you had intended the afternoon to go.

"Is there a reason that you burst into my room looking for me Mackie?" The question was indeed one that you wanted to know the answer to, you still felt so exposed, although he was not looking at you. That was certainly something that you were going to avoid telling Seb, that would definitely be a big distraction from his work.

And of course, alongside that, he would have an intent to possibly murder your flat mate, and whilst Chris would be laughing at that, there would be a heavy hotness to your face, as you watched them immaturely battle. Anthony cleared his throat thoroughly, directing towards the face that he was about to speak.

"Definitely not to see you like that." Retorted the math major, shrugging the shiver off his shiver as the memory tormented him once more. "But... me and Chris were going to meet with Scarlett, Takia and Brie, we were going to see if you and Seabass wanted to join, but as I saw against my own will, you have something already planned for your dinner."

“Um yeah, no, we’ll pass. Thanks tho buddy.” Oh god, to say you felt awkward was an understatement. If you were wearing clothes, or at least more socially appropriate ones, you’d go to him and give him a typical punch on the shoulder. Though, if you were clothed more body wear, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Only things like this happened in college flats, that was one thing that could be confirmed.

“Okay then. Good to know...” Anthony closed the door and proceeded to enter the kitchen. He went grab himself an apple, and realised then that it was an unfortunate consequence, but he had lost his appetite. There had been nothing wrong with your appearance - nothing at all - but you were his flat mate and friend! And, you had a boyfriend, whom was also a great reference of social interaction for him.

The sound of keys interlocking with the outside of the door echoed through the kitchen, someone was outside, and he’d be write in assuming that it was Sebastian. Chris was presently occupied by scouring the internet for ways to surprise the girl he was currently hanging with, and honestly by that, Anthony was scared to enter his room.

It could have been anything that he was searching, but to his contrasting luck, the last resident of their flat entered, creases firm on his brow, from thinking too hard. Sebastian was mulling over the lecture that his professor had given his class. Remember to take a break every now and then. Maybe he was right, a break couldn't postpone him from graduating him that much, could it.

Perhaps he was putting it all off, because after receiving his degree, the four of you would have to find somewhere else to live, and a part of Seb was inclined to ask you individually to move in with him. A one bedroom apartment would be cheaper than one with three rooms, and atop of that, he wouldn't have to be cautious of minor things like walking around the flat in little to no clothing, or fucking you on the kitchen counter.

They were all coupley things that he had wishes to do, but because there were another two men residing with you and him, albeit them being your friends, he didn't allow you to do so in anything less than one of his shirts that cascaded down your thighs, so that if you weren't wearing panties, everything would be concealed. Anthony gulped, remembering he had seen you in your surprise for this man, and gosh, did he want to keep quiet about his accidental peek.

Sebastian wasn’t the jealous type, it was rather refreshing how he found that to be an unappealing trait, however, it would still not settle well that someone saw his girl, in a compromising choice of wear that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He would surely make it clear that you were his, and thus the fucking in the kitchen that he dreamt about would be more than likely to unfold, as he rammed you against the cupboards, caring not if guests were due.

“Hey.” It was a breath of fresh air to speak to someone who was not on his course, it was as though he had become estranged from the people closest to him during this part of the term. Thus a striking pang of guilt landed in his chest as he wondered how you must have felt. He hadn’t touched you in any intimate sense in weeks, it certainly felt like years.

That truth gave him no pride, he dropped his items on the counter, planning on returning to them after he had tended to greeting you. A long kiss sounded nice, strung by a chord of untwined tongues that groomed the insides of your mouth, as you reciprocated. If he was very generous to himself, he’d perhaps lay down for a moment, and allow his pianist hands to wander for more than a moment, stroking them up and down your thighs, until he gave supple attention to your sweet delicacy, dipping down to kiss it and run his fingers over the beautiful gates that only he was allowed to surpass through.

Anthony muffled a reply to him, before shuffling out the room, casting him a weird side eye, but Sebastian thought little of it as his mind was preoccupied with something other than his studies. Oh, and how he didn't mind. The mental image of your nude portrait blessing his eyes was enough motivation to have him striding at a fast, yet considerable pace, towards the door to your shared bedroom.

He knew you must have been inside, he saw your lanyard hanging on the coat rack, that was literally a makeshift piece of wood that you had drunkenly returned with one night, along with a very much intoxicated Paul Rudd. There had been construction nearby, and you thought that it was possible to turned the sharp edged plank with nails sticking out as a bedframe. Least to say, Sebastian did not allow that to happen, knowing that one morning, you would end up spiking your scalp against one of the rusted nails.

People had gotten hurt by it from where it was already, there was that time that Tessa had tried to lean on it for a photo, that in retrospect was an applicant towards your photography course, but that didn't end well, you were pretty sure there was still a streak of her blood stained into one side. That may have been why Chris had turned its weight around after that. However, none of you had the money to spare to invest in a real rack, so for now it stayed.

It sure as hell wasn't coming with you guys when you moved out, that was one thing that Sebastian was going to ensure. If Anthony wanted it, then so be it, if all went to plan, the pair of you wouldn't be living with the lovable goof when the time came. Turning the knob to the room, Sebastian heard a gasp, and thus after he shut it, he saw you wrapped up in your robe, your head cocked to the side as you seductively tried to settle on your small double bed.

"You made me jump Sebba." No, he could tell that you had been taking a short nap, as though you had wanted to forget some details from your day. And that you did, and you hoped that Anthony did as well. "Have you got much work to do bubs?" You raised yourself on your elbows and shuffled towards him as he came to sit on the side of the mattress.

"Think I'm going to take a short hiatus from it for a few hours." Now that certainly sounded pleasant, you hummed at his words, stroking his shoulder, as you pressed a kiss to his hand that moved cup your cheek. "Have I been neglecting my little petal?" It was a name he used whenever he was seeking forgiveness, but this time, you shook your head, frowning, as you settled a small smile on your face.

"You've been understandably busy, I get that. I'm not going to go as far as to use that word babes, you've just had a little time to yourself and your schoolwork, and that is fine." He tapped your chin, cocking his head to the side, inviting you to straddle his lap. You'd have been stupid if you refused after all the time that you had spent mentally apart from him, so without another hint, you clambered over his thighs, a giddy expression corrupting your face.

"This is why I love you. So open minded, and not to mention, that mind of yours has had me doing some thinking." Nodding in a current to prompt him to continue, his hands eased their lodging onto your bare thighs, stroking the skin with large soothing swipes, making any hair on your body stand on edge, as he averted his eyesight to the split of your gown that crisscrossed around your chest. It wasn't a sexual focus however, it was more so as though he feared a rejection of one kind.

"Hope you're not gonna propose us having a kid or something, because now is certainly not the time." At your humour, he sincerely laughed, causing a calm to wash over you and him, as he finally looked you in the face. “Unless you mean buying a plant, our last one died, and now you use the old pot to stub out your blunts." You could see the improvisational container as you turned your head to the side, seeing its white exterior be a gradient of light to shielded grey.

"I want you to move in with me." Sebastian responded straightly, bracing his slightly nervous palms to the divot of your waist, as he grasped the skin below your ribs, swirling the pads of his thumbs across your skin, caressing each nimble pore on that part of your body. His breath captured the side of your neck, as he licked a sweet line across a vein that he specifically picked out using his

"We already live together silly. Unless we're gonna move to mars." As you spoke, your brows optimistically raised, as your forearms found a home around the back of his neck, as you pressed tentative kisses to his clean jaw. A series of giggles evicted from you as you darted your tongue out to taste his sharp skin, your hand slipping down to control his own, trailing his touch beneath your gown so that the tips of his fingers were brushing the mesh of your underwear that was poised in a curve upon your hipbone.

"As much as the space nerd in me would love that, and not to mention you would make one foxy astronaut, I meant, after this, and here, we find a place for just you and me. I get if you don’t-“ you pressed your left forefinger to his lips, humming with a smile as he shared a gentle kiss upon your skin. He took the digit into his mouth, sucking the skin and swirling his tongue around the crescent of your nail.

“That sounds... perfect.” Ushering your finger from out past his lips, and the barrier of his nipping teeth, you languidly stroked his bottom lip, spreading the small extent of saliva that had coated your finger. “I’m so happy you’re taking a break Sebba, you deserve it. There’s something I want to show you baby, I know you’re going to like it.”

“Is it under this robe by any chance?” Obliging his answer with a supporting action, you allowed his hands to remain beneath the sleek material, as you untied the thick strand that tied the two sides together around your body. Pushing the dark silk from your shoulders, you revealed the design of petals that prompted through the thin material of your undergarments, everything exposed through the sultry and intimate pieces.

“Do you like it?” You seemed to have forgotten about Anthony seeing you in the internal wear, and from Sebastian’s honed gazing at your full breasts, your nipples sternly grew hard, telling him without need for word that he was silently turning you on. A sigh escaped from him, as he plucked at the seam of your panties, tugging lightly at the side to drag the material up your slit, grasping a light moan from your intimately affected lungs.

“My lovely petal, like is an understatement. You do all this for me, I don’t think I’m going to know how much this was, especially where we’re supposed to be budgeting.” Seb quirked his unbrushed brow, pressing his lips against the column of your throat, intaking the smell and pungent taste of your floral perfume. “But I’m not going to complain, because seeing you like this is certainly worth a fine penny. Is it ungrateful for me to want it off of you though?”

“Wait.” You instructed him, pressing your tongue into the divot of his chin, swiping a line of saliva through the bone structure. “I think we should get my money’s worth. First, I want to get my fill of your appreciation, and then maybe, maybe then I’ll allow you to discard piece by piece from my skin.” Your dominant hand pressed against his growing bulge as a you slid off his lap, running your nose along his thighs, as you fiddled with the purchase of his jeans, him helping you tug the denim off, and down his thick thighs.

“You’re so good to me.” He leaned back, curling his fists into the sheets, as he watched you enduringly pat him over his boxers, drawing a spot of precum to seep out onto the white cotton. “My beautiful petal, hungry for my cock, you want it, don’t you? Want to suck my hard cock, practically starving for it, ain’t ya?” Profusely nodding, you drooled as he twitched, and pushed down his underwear, revealing his uncut, and growing cock.

“Holy shit.” Escaped you as a breathy conjunction of two words, your palm reaching out to rotate his foreskin in your hand, pushing the layer back gently to reveal his hidden slit. Your tongue darted out over the flushed head, suckling on the sensitive portion, spoiling yourself with the salty taste of his aroused skin. “You have such a pretty cock baby.” Pressing a kiss along the length, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, before returning to the tip, swallowing down his cock in your throat.

“Fuck.” Your boyfriend revelled in the pleasure, one of his hands capturing your hair in its hold, running his fingers through your locks as you bobbed your head. Gargled sounds choked out from your easing throat, as you continued your administrations, making Seb squeeze his eyes shut, as he endured the pleasure that you pledged him with. “Baby...”

You moaned around his cock, your glazed irises peeking up at him, before pulling off, a strand of saliva connecting you to his hung length. “Say it.” Was his demand as his hand pressed the cheeks of your face together, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pout. It was a notion of past experiences that reminded you of what he was speaking of, you blinked your lashes innocently towards him, steadily breathing through your nose as he patiently awaited for you to carry out his order.

“I’m your cockslut.” You mumbled out, spit pooling out of your mouth and rolling down the cleavage of your lips, descending onto your chin, and slipping to be a river down your chest, playing hide and seek in the cups of your sheer bra. “Love your fat cock, and your large balls, and the way your mouth exhibits complete bliss over my pussy.” He tilted your head to the side, as he leaned down, his spare hand reaching behind you to remove your bra, leaving it hanging loosely off from your shoulders.

“How about I eat your cunt, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you petal?” A whine slipped from your lips as you shouldered off the floral laced bra, discarding it on the bedroom floor, as you waded your legs about so that you could do the same with the slim lined panties. “Come on then, get up on the bed pretty girl, let me at that pussy.” Doing as he said, you clambered onto the mattress, your front against the sheets as you tried to position yourself. A slap rumbled off your ass cheek, as Sebastian struck down on the globe of fat, straggling a surprised moan from your lips.

It seemed like he wanted you to remain on your stomach, and so you did as he breathed a swab of cool air upon your clenching lips, swiping his tongue from your heavy clit to your soaking entrance. “Sebs, do something, please.” You collapsed your face into the bed, wiggling your ass towards his face, earning yourself another spank to your behind. It stung, but it was a hot heat that granted you a minor bit of relief; it was certainly better than nothing.

And then, his tongue probed at your entrance, test tasting your cunt as his muscle flicked deliriously over your clit, his forefinger prying at your slit, and slipping without struggle inside of your walls, evoking a withering moan to collapse out from your chest. Another digit slunk through your folds, filling your further, as his pace increased, his mouth surrounding your clit, and rolling the bud around with his instigating tongue. “Petal, pass me the lube.”

With a light head, you blindly reached your hand across to on top of his bedside table, locating the bottle with your fiddling hands, tossing it back towards him. A thump indicates that it did not land on the mattress as planned, instead the container of lubricant hit him in the forehead. A frown covered his face as he shook his head, removing his fingers from your folds, as he grasped the bottle, splurging some of the clear and slippery liquid onto his fingertips.

Seb spread it around his fingers, rubbing it onto his skin, as he applied a little onto your tight hole, prying at your puckered entrance with his lubricated digits. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You gently rubbed your face against the sheets as Sebastian entered his fingers into your ass, quickly thrusting them in and out of you. “Feels so good Sebby, shit.” He continued his administrations with a clenched wrist, evicting pleasure upon you as you practically sobbed onto your shared bed. “No, no-“

He removed his fingers, as well as his own shirt that was still covering his chest. Seb clambered off the bed for a moment, locating a condom, as he gave his cock a couple of jerks, rolling the avast protection onto his length, as he positioned himself on his knees behind you. He entered you swiftly, returning his fingers back into your tighter hole, as he began to thrust into both of your entrances. Sounds of pleasure were compelled out from your lungs, as you half screamed his name; there were tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you endured wafts pleasure from both intimate angles.

He curled his fingers within you, picking up his pace as his hips profusely clashed against your own. He was chasing a high, whilst simultaneously reducing you to nothing but a racer to your own. “So fucking tight; in both holes.” His teeth clenched as he moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching harshly around him, as he filled the condom with his white and warm seed. He remained inside of you as he brought one hand down to your cunt, playing with your clit, as he sternly thrusted his fingers into your ass.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, cumming around his softened cock, and mewling into your own wrist. Sebastian extracted his tender cock from within you, also removing his fingers, as he swiped off the condom, tying to open side so that no cum would spill out, and then discarding it in the bin. “Shit, I was wanting some attention from you, but I didn’t know I was going to get that.” You laughed lightly, feeling a little hazy and drunk from your numbing orgasm.

In turn, your boyfriend laughed too, grabbing his shirt from off the ground, and lightly pulling you up, helping you into the baggy material. He pressed a sweet kiss upon your forehead as he rolled to be laid beside you, bringing your sweaty body into his matching side, watching through appeased lids at how you curled yourself into him. “I love you darling.”

“I love you too Seb.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his soft nipple, as his arms locked adoringly around you. “And I’m so proud of you for putting your all into your course.” Your nails stroked down his stomach, as the two of you laid upon the sheets, rather than underneath them.

“Of course I would, it’s for our future in the long term of things.” He stated, brushing any loose strands of hair out from your face. “But I guess it’s okay to take a break sometimes. And that, well that was certainly worth the time away from studying, it always is with you.”

283 notes · View notes

trumpkinhotboy · 3 years

Text

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

#ilya writes ❤#jacob black #jacob black x f!reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black fic #twilight #taylor lautner #twilight saga #wolves #werewolves

197 notes · View notes

alolanrain · 3 years

Note

how old is ash on yours au’s?

It really really depends and I’m finding out that I’m absolutely horrible at actually giving out somewhat concrete ages, barring a few Au’s.

Unspokenly Ash is usually around late 20 to very early 22, unless I did write down and post an age for him in what ever Au has it, but thats also more drabble and fillet based. That is… basically my standard and I really need to vocalize that more from the content that I do write him as younger.

Basically how it goes is that with each region he ages up a year. Spending his birthday at home with his mom and the Oak’s that are present at the time before going off on another adventure. This gets kind of tricky around Sinnoh because Ash stay’s there to take on The Brain. I have that written down that it takes 3 month’s to even half a year. Which then put’s off the ‘sharing the birthday with mom and oak’ thing. This lands his birthday in the middle of his current journey at the time or a bit later like right before the league or a month before, if that makes sense. So in the end he comes home obviously older. Though I have been messing around and making the time in Orange Isles shorter to around 9 months instead of a full year.

Like here’s a time table and I’ll keep both set’s of ages if I do mess around with Orange Isles time line and add it as concrete. It gets really complicated so if you want a little more explanation please don’t be afraid to ask. I am also keeping the Brain Arc to half a year.

Starting age to finishing age *0/12 means how many months he is instead of a full year.

Kanto: 10 to 11

Orange Isles: 11 to 12 or 11 to 11 + 9/12

Johto: 12 to 13 or 11 + 9/12 to 12 + 9/12

Hoenn: 13 to 14 or 12 + 9/12 to 13 + 9/12

Sinnoh: 14 to 15 or 13 + 9/12 to 14 + 9/12

+ battling the Brain: 15 to 15 + 6/12 or 14 + 9/12 to 15 + 3/12

Unova: 15 + 6/12 to 16 + 6/12 or 15 + 3/12 to 16 + 3/12

Kalos: 16 + 6/12 to 17 + 6/12 or 16 + 3/12 to 17 + 3/12

Alola: 17 + 6/12 to 18 + 6/12 or 17 + 3/12 to 18 + 3/12

Galar: 18 + 6/12 to 19 + 6/12 or 18 + 3/12 to 19 + 3/12

I just want to say that typing all this out looks like one hell of a long ass math equation, kinda hate it and might change it later. But this is my completely basic format of what I use. Of course there’s a lot of wiggle room as I write Ash starting around 20 to 21 in Alola and Galar. He’s obviously going to probably spend more the one complete year in a region and less then another. The end of the league doesn’t dictate when he stays and leaves. Theres also the months that build up between each “arc”, another word I use to refer to his journeys, and to account the HC that some leagues start off at wildly different times then others.

It’s literally just a pick-and-pull basket and just a large general target where Ash would be ages wise. As you see in the end the two different age lists end up being only 3 months part from each other. It really doesn’t matter and I’m mostly just playing around with it. Another note thats… vital isn’t the correct word but I’m use it is that I don’t take Cerise Laboratory and the research assistant job into account. This is based off if Ash travels Galar to his normal standard with every other arc but Alola but I did keep the characters.

You didn’t ask for this but I want to add in other traveling buddies and side rivals ages and how they are compared to Ash as well. Usually Ash is the youngest if not one of them up until Hoenn. With the exception of being exactly 24 hours older then Ritchie. And all of this have way to much detail but its making my ADHD brain go brrrr happily.

He’s older than May, surprisingly, by like a month and a half but he doesn’t realize that and mentally clocks that he’s younger than her because of how responsible and adult like she acts a good chunk of the time. Max is obviously the youngest while Brock is the oldest. The same thing kinda happens in Sinnoh. He’s older then Dawn by a good year and a half to maybe even two years. Though Ash is younger then Paul and Barry by a varying few months between each boy.

Unova is where it changes a lot. Going from one of the youngest to one of the oldest out of his group of friends. Iris is drastically 3 years younger then Ash, making her around 12 at the start of the arc and somewhere around 13 at the end, and around 3 and a half with Cilan. This causes her to constantly pick against Ash because to her he’s older. Ash should be acting more like a seasonal trainer with known responsibilities and shouldn’t be so excited about everything. That’s also an expectation that was subconsciously taught to her by Drayden when she was still in School in the Dragon Village. Virgil is actually the oldest being freshly turned 18 years old while Cameron is the youngest at 11 and 5 months. Stephan is like the closest to Ash’s actually age but also acts a lot more older and more adult like then he really is just by his laid back attitude. Bianca actually just turned 18 before starting her journey.

Age Note: the reason why Cilan is weird and awkward around Burgundy is not because of her short temper and brash attitude but because Burgundy just turned 13 years old. She is a legitimate child just like Iris, compared to Cilan’s 16 years and 6 months when the meet on the road for the first time and not at a connoisseur event. Her deep infatuation and how young she is really puts Cilan in a active land mine field. Unlike Iris who listens to him and actually talks, he has no clue how to interact with her. Burgundy isn’t a normal gym challenger coming to his and his brother gym for a badge or even a normal crazed simple fan. As a gentleman at heart as well he raised to talk between certain age limits close to his own and this ends up making Cilan see Burgundy actually younger then she really is. Kind of like how Iris clocked Ash as a ‘kid’ when he’s obviously older then her and more experienced.

Kalos then thrusts Ash or being the oldest out of the main group but not as a whole. Bonnies around 8 while Clemont is 2 months and a half younger then Ash. This is where I struggle a lot in placing peoples based age in Kalos is actually because of Serena. I don’t want to make her too young to which the point it’s weird and also I based the other contest girls age’s around hers. But I also don’t want to make her too old to the point that Miette, the oldest out of the contest girls no matter what, is older then Ash. The general consensus is that Miette is right in with Clemont and Ash age wise while Nini is the youngest out of the trio. So that places Serena around 13 to 14 while Nini is like 12 and 7 months. Sawyer is obviously just turned 10 while Trevor, Tierno, and Shauna are between 12 and a half to 13 and a half years old. Giving that easy bonding connection with Serena and Shauna while giving Miette a older more experienced vibe and the childlike wonder to Nini. You’d think with Alain and all Ash would be the second oldest but your wrong. Ash is exactly 1 whole week older then Alain but, much like May, he doesn’t know that and mentally clocks Alain older then he really is.

In comes Alola and this is again where I usually bump Ash up to 20 to 21 but for the sake of everything I’m going off the basic target. Ash is obviously the oldest of the class by a good year on them alone though the classes collective smarts pushed them up different grades in school so thats how their together. Kiawe was the oldest at 16 and 9 months while Sophocles is still the youngest at 12 and 3 months, again bringing in the fact that the class is super smart and its based off intelligence instead of age like with every other class. Mallow is the third oldest at 16 and 2 months with Lana following on by at 16 and 1 month. Lillie is specifically around 15 years to 13 years and 4 months based off if I want her to suffer more as a older teen or as a child, literally her age is based off if I want to traumatize her more or not. Hapu is around 12 to 13 years old despite her obvious size and squeaky-ish voice. Acerola despite being very very mature for her age is only 17 years and 4 months old. Horacio is about Ash’s age at an even 17 years old when he and his lackies first meet Ash, Sophocles, and Kiawe.

Age Note: Horacio absolutely used his age as a card against Sophocles as many times as he could to the point it was so overused. This made Ash especially angry because he hated it when people used their age against much younger kids. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you’re right.

Then we reach Galar as our final stop. Ash is once more the oldest out of him, Chloe, and Goh but not everyone else. That would be Hodge at a straight 19 years old when he first meets Ash and Goh at the Battle Frontier Flute Cup. Chloe comes at 14 and a half years old with Goh just freshly turning 14. This makes Ash’s relationship more of a mentor type distant older brother thing. Those two actually don’t find out about Ash’s age up until he and Goh get their letter so of recommendation and have to fill out the normal personal stuff. If you think Hop is close by in age with Ash then you’re wrong again. He’s actually two days younger then Chloe making Hop around 14 and a half years old as well. Marine is 13 years and 9 months old. Bede is much more closer to Ash then the others at 16 years 8 months. For Leon, Raihan, and Sonia their still very much the same in a way. Leon is still the youngest at 20 years while Raihan is the oldest at 23, leaving Sonia in the middle at 21 and a half years old.

Age note… once more: this fits perfectly for the Kanto and Galar Trios as they basically get opposite of themselves in a way. Goh who’s very oriented, loud, and on the go gets paired with marine who’s very quite and shy for the most part and their going to subconsciously teach each other that its okay to come out of your shell or its okay to take a moment and relax. Hop is very much like Ash and Goh combined with the strategies and the none stop puppy own straight crack like energy and he declares himself as Chloe’s, who’s silent and very critical and almost broody like it’s not quite there but it’s close enough, rival and is trying to teach her that battling is fun and okay and a lot of Pokemon like battling for those reason. Ash and Bede are the obvious choice for each other because once again Ash is very bright, happy-go-lucky, just sweet in general to everyone while Bede is completely broody, extremely sour, and just utterly rolling in his own image and being way to cocky.

51 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

25 - Just Chatting...

Hello one and all.

It's been a long time since I graced these pages and, believe it or not, nothing much has been happening in my life, apart from the odd soiree or two. Winter has finally left us and spring has sprung, and it's nice to see the sun again. Let's start by wishing my old mate a happy birthday and I hope you all had a little drinkie for him, I know I did. In fact I got legless, he would have been proud of me. Whenever we were in London there was always a party at Fred's on his birthday, be it a handful of friends, or one where he invited half of Britain, but which ever one it was there was always a good time to be had and a lot of chaos. One year he actually took over Pikes Hotel in Ibiza and chartered a private plane to fly his friends in. Roger and myself were already on the island recording some of his solo stuff so we didn't have far to travel to the bash. When I say we were working, it's kind of true as we spent a lot of time on his boat "Ga Ga" whizzing around having lunch and fun. The party was held outside around the swimming pool, now is that an invite for trouble or what? There were hundreds of balloons hanging from every available fixture, and of course there is always an idiot that thinks he's a clown. This particular clown, who will remain nameless, decided it would be funny to light one of the balloons, and needless to say the whole lot went up in flames. Phoebe and Crystal to the rescue. We had to get this "fire" off the wooden rafters before the whole hotel went up in smoke, so we were pulling bits of string while burning rubber was dripping down on us. I was so traumatised by the whole event I had to have another drink ....... a lame excuse I know, but hey, it's my story. Back to the pool. Edwin Shirley, of trucking fame and also an all round good guy after a few too many, decided to have a swim, so he removed his clothing and was flapping around the pool when some daft countess told him to get dressed and behave himself. Wrong move lady. Edwin was not impressed by his telling off and threw her in, and she was even less impressed with that and started ranting and raving, much to the amusement to the rest of the party hounds. She left with her tail between her legs and didn't look at all glamorous in her soaking wet dress, running makeup and failed hairdo. We continued till mid morning and went straight to the airport and caught a flight home. Thanks F for the great parties and good times, you will never be forgotten.

I still get asked a lot if I'm gonna write the "Real" story about Queen. Well the answer is no, and the reason is that the guys gave me a great job and a great life and I have far to much respect for them, their wives/girlfriends, children and families to tell the world what we got up to in private. I feel that is our business and ours alone. Most of us are all in relationships and telling tales could make life awkward for a few people, band and crew alike. I'm sure at some point in time someone from the organisation will write a book, have 5 minutes of fame and make a quick buck, but it sure as hell won't be me, and I'll still be able to sleep at night and when I see the guys I will still be free to say, "Wanna beer MATE."

I've had a few questions asked me that I'm gonna answer quickly.

First off is "Do you have any stories about Freddies cats? (ripping furniture etc.)" Here's a good reply, No. So moving right along, "Of all the famous people you've met, who impressed you the most?" Tricky one this. After years in this "Biz" they all become "Just normal people," and some become good pals, but on one occasion I was in Paul McCartneys studio and I was handed his violin bass and I was sitting there holding it when someone said, "Paul is left handed, hold it like he would." When I turned it around, still taped in the cutout was the Beatles set list from their days in Hamburg, now that impressed me.

Deaky and myself were the only two reggae lovers in the outfit, and Bob Marley turned up to see the show at Madison Square Gardens. Strange choice of show for Bob, but he loved Another one bites the dust, and he happened to be in New York on a stopover on his way to Germany for laser treatment. Show time and our intro tape was playing, and someone told JD that Bob was in the audience, so he cranked his bass up and played "Lively up yourself" over the tape. This was very possibly the last time Marley ever heard this played as he died shortly after. I didn't get to meet him, but I did get to meet Tyrone Downie, Bobs keyboard player in the Wailers, and Tyrone and myself got up to all sorts of mischief that night. RT on the other hand hates reggae music, but I did manage to drag him to the Circus Krone in Munich to see Peter Tosh. I loved it, he hated it. I look at this as payback because years before he insisted that I went to Hammersmith Odeon to see Laurie Anderson, of O Superman fame. This show he loved, but I put it alongside Cher as one of the worst concerts I have ever seen. Needless to say I have also met a couple of stars that I didn't see eye to eye with. Like the American rock star we encountered in a club one night, and he was such a pain I had to take him into the toilets to have a quiet word with him. He finally got the message so I released my hand from around his neck and let him drop back down to the ground. To finish this segment I wanna tell you something that Bev Bevan said. Bev was the drummer with ELO, and them and us were touring the US at the same time, and as it turned out, staying in the same hotel in one city. Roger and myself were leaving the hotel and waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened Bev was in there and him and RT said their hellos. Rog then said, "Bev, this is Crystal, he looks after me." Bev turned to me, shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you. If it wasn't for guys like you, guys like us wouldn't be where we are today." He didn't need to say that, and was genuine when he did. I wasn't impressed with meeting him, but he is certainly in my top ten of nicest people I have ever meet.

Over the last few months I've spent a lot of time in the Chatroom, and I highly recommend it to you all as it can be a bit of a laugh. For anyone who has never visited the room please remember a couple of things, if you come in and start swearing you will be kicked out. I know, it happens to me all the time. Also don't come in and start going on about knowing axemen and murderers and other such garbage, cause that also warrants a kicking. Some buffoon from Ireland, who went by the name of "Death" turned up with an attitude and was going on about how f***ing awesome Queen were at Slane Castle. He was not known by anyone in there so I asked him to watch his language. He said he was the Grim Reaper and could do and say what he liked, so I told him otherwise and he was most put out when I kicked him. What a fool. A while ago there was some prat who called himself F***queen, good name eh! Anyway, he/she/it was picking on a lovely young lady called Raisa, and was saying some awful things to her and completely freaked her out, so I went to her defence and FQ turned the attention my way. As far as I'm concerned it's only letters on a screen and it didn't phase me at all, but at least he/she/it gave up on Raisa. In all fairness to FQ, whoever you may be, he/she left a message on the Bulletin Board saying sorry to Raisa and myself and would never do it again. So FQ, from the both of us, thanks for the apology, we accept it. What other weirdos have we had? Well, there was a brightspark who decided it would be funny to use the nickname QueenRshite, another bad move from this person who was honoured with a ban.

While in there I've seen a lot of friendships made, and a couple that have fallen apart. I got a private message one evening from a very drunk girl who, how shall we phrase this, offered me her body and wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to me, I thanked her and declined...must be getting old or something. I have also witnessed relationships being made and, usually there is a lot of humour involved, but needless to say some arguments do occur. I have also seen some of the daftest things said. One guy was so convinced that one of the regulars was either Deaky or she was chatting with him in private that he actually started tracking her every move on the net. He also told me about some highly illegal activities he was up to concerning the band. I wouldn't have thought I was the best person to tell such stuff to, and needless to say I had a go at him. Just to add to his stupidity he's been recently boasting about his affair with an underage girl, and I reckon if he had any more sense he would be half witted. Having mentioned all the twits I'd like to say a quick hello to all the regulars, White Queen and Killer Queen, the lovely girls Blue Rock and Rannnnnnni, SQJan, Mayflower and her boys, Farookh (aka Leroy Brown) MarshMallow, the three Tigers - Babe, Lily and Stripes and the mighty Falc, also to all the rest who I haven't mentioned by name, you know who you are. I'd also like to say hi to Daddy Cool who is the singer in the Dutch cover band Miracle, and Dad, if you never make it as a singer you could make a great career from being a stand up comedian. Finally an extra special hello to the gorgeous MTB, who is about to make an honest man of me ;)

Before I go I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone of a certain date in November that is engraved in all of our minds. And I know that a lot of you will be heading to Garden Lodge to leave flowers. I don't wanna preach and tell you what to do, and I know flowers are a nice gesture, but they do die and the only people to really benefit from this is the florist. This year lets all give a donation, no matter how small, to Aids research, this way the cash will be used to try and stamp out this awful disease. If you really wanna leave flowers, buy a smaller, cheaper bunch and donate the balance of what you would have spent to these charities. It's been said a million times before but it is true, Every penny counts.

As always, Loadsa Love.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #peter freestone #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

40 notes · View notes

triplexdoublex · 4 years

Text

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting 💦

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

***************************

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?”

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

*******************

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

**************************************

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is! My girls always cum,” he smirks.

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you.

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!” you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach.

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.”

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

#mkg #mkg smut #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson x reader #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #EST #XX #Pete Davidson #colson baker x reader #alpha omega #AU #mgk fanfic #machine gun Kelly fanfic #Colson baker reader

498 notes · View notes

howlingsaturn · 4 years

Text

cotton candy skies (and the sweetness of your love)

carlos finally sought out his parents and told them about his relationship with tk. it doesn’t go quite like he expected and so he finds tk immediately after.

here we go lads, 2.8k of fluff coming right at you. i’ve wanted it to be mostly carlos centric but there is some tk pov in the beginning too. no trigger warning for this one but stay safe everyone. <3

ao3 link if you wanna say hi.

a forever with you

wouldn't nearly be enough

to quench the flames

you continue to rekindle in me

It's been a couple of weeks since their fight and TK can tell that it still lies heavily on Carlos' mind. While TK feels like it has brought them closer together, he finds Carlos staring off into space more recently. Sometimes he would look at TK with a hint of guilt and shame in his eyes and TK would need to assure him that it's okay, they've moved past it. Carlos would nod and kiss him but the weight on his shoulders would not lift one bit. It's frustrating, TK wants nothing more than to ease the tension in his body and help him carry the weight, but TK promised Carlos he would be patient and he's fully intent on keeping his promise.

It comes as a bit of a surprise to him when Carlos shows up at the firehouse towards the end of his shift, unannounced. TK is currently sitting at the table, nursing a mineral water and talking to Marjan about the call they've just responded to when Paul's excited exclamation echoes through the otherwise quiet firehouse.

"Reyes!" He calls, "Long time no see."

TK turns at just the right moment and as Carlos comes into view, a kind smile on his lips, TK can't stop his own from splitting into a grin. Paul's right though, Carlos hasn't been around as much as he used to because of the many hours he's currently working. TK has tried to talk him into taking a few days off but so far Carlos has refused, seemingly needing the distraction his job provides. It makes TK worry but he really tries not to push him too far, he trusts that Carlos will come to him if he's ready.

"Good to see you too, Strickland," TK hears Carlos laugh, watching as he leans in for a hug, "Work's been crazy lately, you know how it is."

"Don't have to tell me," Paul replies as they break apart, "Just make sure you're taking care of yourself, alright?"

Carlos' face softens and TK feels his heart clench in his chest. It's not surprising that Paul immediately knows something's been bothering Carlos but it leaves TK a bit unsettled anyway.

"Your boy's in there, by the way," Paul adds and TK shakes himself out of his thoughts. He watches as Carlos' eyes follow Paul's gesture and when their eyes meet, Carlos' smile settles. He tilts his head in a quick movement, asking TK to meet him outside, and TK is out of his seat before he can start overthinking Carlos' intentions. He jogs up to him, throwing a glance in Paul's direction but Paul has already turned back to his task.

"Hey," TK exclaims, a little breathless.

"Hi," Carlos echoes, "You got a minute? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Sure," he responds with a grin although he can't help but feel a little anxious, "You have until the bell rings."

Carlos nods in understanding and turns half a step, walking back out of the firehouse. TK can feel the gazes of his team boring into his back but he takes a deep breath and follows Carlos outside.

"You okay?" TK asks when he comes to a stop next to Carlos, reaching out a hand to gently touch his wrist, watching him carefully. Carlos' hands are stuffed into his pockets, eyes locked into the distance to the left side of TK and he follows his gaze, quickly realising what has Carlos so transfixed: The sun is setting over the hills, only a few rays of sunshine are left to peek through the buildings, and the clouds are tinted in a soft pink colour that reminds TK of cotton candy. It makes his gut tingle with warmth.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He breathes out with a smile.

"Yeah."

TK turns to look at Carlos and finds him already looking at him, sporting a smile so soft, TK recognises it as the smile Carlos has reserved for him only. It makes his own smile widen and the anxiety that has previously made him breathless dissipates.

"You're a sap," TK says and Carlos just shrugs, reaching for TK's hand to pull him close against his side, needing the comfort. He takes a moment to look at TK and the way he tilts his head as he regards Carlos a little sceptically. He raises his brow, biting the inside of his cheek while he does so and Carlos finds it absolutely endearing. The pink sky behind him illuminates his face in a soft, warm glow and something about the light makes the green in his eyes pop out more than usual. He's beautiful and Carlos wishes he could freeze time so he could look at him forever. TK lets him have his fill, Carlos is surprised by how long he lets him stare, but after a while he starts fidgeting.

"Not that I don't love being the centre of your attention," he confesses, tilting his head down in slight embarrassment, "but you are kind of freaking me out right now."

"Sorry," Carlos laughs, enamored by the colour on TK's cheeks. His gaze drifts back towards the skyline and the weight of what happened today catches up on him again. The smile falls from his face as his muscles tense and the hand that still holds onto TK squeezes involuntarily.

"Carlos, baby, what's wrong?" TK reaches out with the hand that isn't clutched in Carlos' and squeezes where his neck meets his shoulder, just now noticing how rigid Carlos is.

"I love you a whole lot," Carlos says slowly, calculated, as his focus turns back to TK, "you know that right?"

It takes TK a bit off guard if he's honest. They haven't said the words in a while but TK knows, he's always known. Carlos wears his heart on his sleeve and there's not a day that goes by where Carlos doesn't show him how loved he is.

"Of course," TK tells him and now he's worried. He presses himself to Carlos' side, if to comfort Carlos or himself, he isn't sure, and plants a soft kiss to his shoulder. He looks up at him, searching his face, but as his hand slides down to curl around his elbow, Carlos looks away again. TK notices the tension in his jaw but the way his chest deeply expands with each breath tells TK that Carlos isn't as upset as he initially thought he was. It feels more like he's trying to order his thoughts, desperately searching for something he can't find, something he can no longer make sense of.

"I visited my parents today," Carlos finally explains and TK's heart skips a beat, squeezing his arm in silent support.

"I told them I lied. I told them that the handsome guy they met at the market a while back wasn't my friend from work but the love of my life."

Carlos can feel the way TK's breath hitches from how close he stands and it makes him hide a smile. He turns to look at him and watches TK as he opens and closes his mouth, visibly fumbling to assemble his thoughts. Carlos knows exactly what he's thinking. Love of his life?

"And how do-- how did they react?" TK finally gets out, swallowing heavily.

"They were calm," Carlos replies, "Surprised. I think they didn't know what to say at first, but after a few minutes of awkward silence my mom started asking about you and the how's and when's of our relationship." He shrugs, a futile attempt to appear nonchalant, but TK can see right through him. The anxiety of that talk probably still lingers.

"And then she asked me if I was happy."

"Oh," TK mutters and it sounds a little self-conscious, "What did you say?"

"The truth," he replies, eager to erase TK's doubts, "that you make me the happiest man on earth. That when you walked out on me a month ago, it felt like my heart was torn into a million pieces and that that day, I swore to myself to never make you doubt your place in my life ever again."

Carlos can clearly see the impact his words have on TK and he realises he should've been more open with him. He knows he has turned into himself lately, knows he has tried really hard to hide himself and his feelings away. But the terror he had felt upon the prospect of his parents finding out about TK and their relationship and disapproving of it, has been weighing heavily on him. He doesn't know why he's been so scared, he knows he would survive his parents' rejection, but to Carlos, there's nothing more important than family. And despite the fact that he's a grown man with a secure job and stable relationships, he can't imagine not having his parents' house to return to and seek shelter in if his world starts collapsing. When it comes to his mother, he will always be the soft little guy with too many fears, desperate for a comforting touch or reassuring words. He just can't help it.

"Carlos," TK pulls him out of his own head and he hurries to order his thoughts. There's something else he needs to get out, a confession that has changed his life completely.

"But you know what my mom did?"

TK shakes his head.

"She took my hand and said she was glad I had somebody who loves me. She said she was sorry for how they reacted all those years ago, that they figured by simply acting like it wasn't a big deal, like it didn't change anything, they would do me a favour."

Carlos chokes on his words, willing away the tears that threaten to spill, and holds onto TK a little stronger. TK presses another kiss to his shoulder, resting his cheek against Carlos and rubbing circles into his arm. He doesn't know why he's getting so emotional now, this is even about him.

"You know what else she said?" Carlos asks.

"Hm?"

"She said couldn't wait to properly meet you."

TK's eyes widen in surprise and something about the huge smile that's now gracing Carlos' lips, makes him choke on his own tears as well. Carlos reaches for him then, tilting TK's head up for a kiss, and TK all but melts into him.

"So wait," he mumbles between kisses, "You do want me to meet your parents now right?"

Carlos laughs again, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Of course I want you to meet my parents."

"Ok, ok," TK says and winds his arms around Carlos' neck, "just making sure."

He kisses him again, feverishly so, and when TK pulls back to look at him, Carlos isn't yet ready to let go. He coaxes TK into another kiss and then another and another until he's breathless with it all.

"I'm so proud of you," TK whispers when they finally break apart, gently cupping Carlos' face in his hands, and the noise Carlos makes in response sounds a little pained. Carlos curses silently as he can't help the tears that we'll up in his eyes again. Today has been one hell of a roller coaster ride.

"You are so fucking brave," TK adds, not allowing Carlos to look away even for a second, and as he raises on his tiptoes to press a series of soft pecks onto Carlos' cheeks, Carlos finally loses the tension in his shoulders. He lets himself be tugged into a hug, his arms winding across TK's back to pull him closer and he allows himself to calm. He pulls back after a while, the urge to see TK too strong to ignore, and when TK smiles at him gleefully, Carlos knows he’s going to be okay. Right here with TK in his arms, he feels safe.

"I love you," TK tells him, his hands resting against the back of Carlos' neck and Carlos has to kiss him for it. It's probably wildly inappropriate, standing outside the firehouse wrapped around each other like that, but Carlos doesn't care, he only has one priority and that's kissing TK. Judging by the way TK holds onto him and reciprocates the kiss, Carlos doesn't think he minds either. He does eventually break the kiss, much to TK's dismay, but only because there's more he needs to say.

He takes another moment to look at TK, it seems that he can't stop staring at him today, and the flush shining high on his cheekbones makes Carlos' stomach flutter. His eyes are wide with joy, his lips red and puffy and he looks so god damn perfect, Carlos cannot wait to take him home and show him how utterly loved he is. He reaches up a hand and cups his jaw, pressing another longing kiss to his lips that leaves TK chasing after him with eyes still closed. Carlos presses his thumb to TK's bottom lip, applying gentle pressure, and he watches mesmerized as TK swallows, his eyes fluttering open with a gasp.

"Move in with me," Carlos says and the way TK's brows raise almost comically makes him stifle a laugh.

"What?" TK responds confusedly.

"You heard me. Move in with me, Ty."

TK studies him for a few seconds, probably debating whether he's understood Carlos correctly and what comes out of his mouth is exactly what Carlos had expected.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks, a hint of excitement glinting behind the insecurity in his eyes but Carlos knows he needs more reassurance than that.

"Sure about wanting you to come home to me every day? Absolutely."

"And you're not just saying that because I've complained about my parents so much lately?"

Carlos huffs out a laugh, gently squeezing TK's hip.

"Look, of course I want you to have a safe space to retreat to when things get difficult with your parents but it's not just that."

TK's lips twitch into a smile and Carlos has to force himself not to kiss him again because if he did, he's not sure he could make himself stop. There's just something about the way TK looks at him that lights a fire in his chest.

"I miss you when you're not around," Carlos explains, his voice dropping low with emotion, "the house is far too quiet and the bed far too cold without you there. You already occupy so much space in my heart, it's only reasonable you occupy space in my home, hopefully our home, too."

TK lets out a watery laugh, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to hold the tears at bay.

"That was so damn cheesy," he says and Carlos fears if he smiles any harder, he's going to tear his face apart. There's not a hint of nervousness in Carlos, he already knows what TK's answer is going to be.

"Well did it work?" He asks anyway, his own smile hurting his cheeks.

TK squints at him, pretending to think it over, but he's far too happy to be a little shit about it for long.

"Yeah," he replies softly, genuinely, "I love you, Carlos, more than I ever thought possible and I hope you know that you make me really happy too. So yes, I'd love to move in with you."

Carlos leans down and kisses him but their smiles are too wide for it to be a proper kiss.

"You know I would offer you a key in a grand romantic gesture but you already have one."

TK makes a snorting sound, shaking his head in amusement.

"So no grand romantic gestures for me?"

Carlos' smile turns soft then, images of a shared future appearing in his head and they look as beautiful as cotton candy skies.

"Not this time, no."

TK wriggles his eyebrows knowingly and it makes Carlos blush, but his smile changes as well. It's sweeter now, his eyes mirroring what Carlos feels, and sometimes Carlos wonders what he did to deserve a love this special.

"This time, huh?" TK asks, and the roughness of his voice masks the humour in his response, "Are you already planning a proper one then?"

Carlos just shrugs and secures his hold on TK, but it's not like he ever plans on letting go anyway.

"Maybe."

TK launches himself at him, pulling Carlos into another earth-shattering, toe-curling, breath-stealing kiss, and as the sun fully sets behind them, the sky now a warm orange, something in Carlos settles. Marriage is not something that is going to happen in the near future, they both know, but if Carlos is already making a mental checklist of everything he needs for the perfect proposal, TK doesn't have to know.

#man the fluff got me good #it's been fun to write though ngl #im in love with their love tbh #tarlos #tarlos fic #howlingsaturnsfics #911ls #911ls spoilers #tk strand #carlos reyes

135 notes · View notes

beautifulletdownfics · 4 years

Text

Terrible to Meet You - A Harry Styles One Shot - Act 2, Let not the time discern

Harry wants to get out of the house. Alex wants to get home.

Alex meets Harry at at crossroads. Harry meets Alex on a one way street.

A coffee shop OU fic feat. lattes, lamingtons & that Great Unfathomable Feeling.

Story Page Here My Masterlist Here

Read Act 1, If at first we meet Here

Two of Us: 'This universe ain't big enough to keep us apart'

&&&

Harry went back to the cafe the next day. (And, after that, every day for a medium while)

There was something about it. Something about the tiny cafe he must have walked past a hundred times before but never took much notice of. Perhaps it was the way he felt the rest of the day after having been there. Or the fact the coffee was fucking good. But also maybe it was her—kind eyes, a foreign accent and a quick wit. It would take Harry's mind and body marginally longer than his heart to recognise what pulled him there.

Alex was surprised when he returned. Part of her was relieved, too. The other part of her was busy extracting the dagger of guilt that shot through her chest. Seeing Harry reminded her that she forgot to tell her flatmates the juicy The Daily Dose gossip about Harry Styles. And Harry walking up to the window a little before 8 am with a calm but reassuring smile on his face made something in her still, and Alex realised he wasn't gossip at all.

"Hi," he greeted her pleasantly, seemingly thinking nothing of the way his hand was tucked into the top of his running shorts to extract his phone for payment. (Alex's heart did a lusty little backflip) She saw a slither of a toned tummy and the way the elastic of the shorts folded over itself, "I'm back for more," he said.

More coffee, and more of whatever else it was packaged into the takeaway cups with it. Alex and Paul were Harry's first human interaction after returning from LA. And, where 24 hours prior his aching need had been to see literally anybody, it was now just a need to see more of this somebody. A person whose name he didn't know yet and who Harry had absolutely no reason to feel connected to at all. Knitted hearts aren't visible to the human eye, not when it isn't Looking.

He did though. Although the way she was now watching him with a completely blank expression on her face and a far off look in her eyes made Harry's confidence falter. He repeated what he'd already said over in his head looking for where he might've gone wrong. Harry came up blank. Was she completely freaked out by him already?

Paul rescued her from what Alex was sure was turning into a flushed moment for her. Did Harry really not realise what he'd said with his fingers beyond the elastic of his shorts? Paul's head appeared over her shoulder as a frown started to appear on Harry's face, "Careful Harry, she's a grump today."

Nobody blinked an eye at Paul using Harry's name before it was technically given to them.

"I am not," Alex insisted too quickly, too forcefully. Her elbow launched backwards, trying to catch Paul's gut. She really was a grump. But last night's wine was still causing her head to thump and her throat to ache. Tears and a bottle of red worked well in the moment but weren't as comforting the morning after.

Paul's eyebrows rose in Harry's direction, and he waved a hand out in front of him, expertly weaving away from her attack even in the tiny space, "See?"

"Ah," Harry nodded awkwardly and briefly looked at his feet.

"Doesn't like it when I start talking about universe stuff," Paul explained loudly, despite nobody asking for him to. "Very spiritually pragmatic, the Australians."

"Didn't know that," Harry added, expression turning to one of interest. He wasn't involved in this part of the conversation the previous day.

"Long black?" Alex asked because yes she remembered his order, and she had the defence of it having been less than 24 hours since she last made Harry's coffee in case anyone started raising eyebrows for another reason.

"Uh, yeah," Harry fumbled over how quickly the exchange turned to business, "Thank you."

She got to work but felt Harry's eyes on her as her hands ran on autopilot, stepping through the process. The click click of the bean hopper, the churn of the grinder, packing the head … Alex put the machine on to run and internally cursed Paul, who took himself into the back room, mumbling something about them running low on serviettes. A blatant lie.

Now, when she turned back to Harry, she tried to look calm and serene, like him. But she was already covered in coffee grind and couldn't be sure there wasn't a smudge of it across her face. Paul never told her when there was. Harry's heart was waving to hers widely.

"So … You're definitely not in a bad mood then?" Harry had an expression on his face that told Alex he was testing the waters, but the teasing note was there in just the right amount.

"I'm hungover, which is completely different," she provided.

His smile turned into a grimace, "Oh yeah, completely … Nothing worse … Self-inflicted misery."

Alex tried not to let Harry's awkwardness affect her and in doing so fell into an old pastime of hers; filing the silence with mindless chatter, "Exactly. And then if you add in some idiot going on about the universe and it's wonderful, eternal plans for my existence … I could just kill a man, you know?"

Paul, Paul is the man I could kill, she thought.

He didn't know, but Harry nodded obediently anyway, "You need carbs and coffee, not the cosmos."

"Thank you," Alex gave Harry a look that told him she thought it was obvious the two of them were right, "I mean, the downright gall of that man, trying to put the universe on me this year of all years. Absolutely bloody insane."

Harry tried to hide the instant smile that came to his face hearing her accent navigate absolutely bloody insane. "I'm Harry … By the way … Feel like we're at names."

"Alexandra. But it's Alex." She added quickly, ignoring the lovely, melodic chuckle that came from Harry, "Do you really think that this year, with a global pandemic, anyone can claim that the universe is conspiring for their specific good? Like, 'Sorry everyone about the pandemic, this is really about my destiny, so you're all just going to have to hang tight while that all falls into place!' This is a terrible year. The universe isn't setting up shit."

"Well, it's terrible to meet you, Alex," Harry grinned, stealing her word. She really was in a grump, and he loved it. But if there was one thing Harry knew how to do, it was charm and disarm. He had a feeling nothing would look as lovely as Alex with a blush he'd put there.

Alex paused where she was about to put the lid on his coffee. She felt her cheeks heat as the last few moments played over in her head—her ranting, Harry's introduction, threatening to murder a man—and then she took in the way he was watching her. A little pink-cheeked himself, amused but not appalled, a waiting look of anticipation on his face for what might come out of her big mouth next.

"I think I might still be a little drunk," she excused meekly. Despite herself, Alex thought she might have a little crush.

"You're handling it well," Harry provided kindly, taking the coffee from where Alex put it down in front of him. He waved his phone over the payment portal, waiting for the beep before locking the screen and going back to looking at her, "Drinking for any particular reason?"

"Oh," Alex's eyes widened, "I—

—"Sorry, that was intrusive of me."

"No, it's okay," she continued quietly, not seeing the way her softening had Harry frowning in concentration to tune into what she was about to say, "I've been trying to get home—back to Australia—for a while now. Flights keep getting cancelled or, on Saturday, I was bumped from one at Heathrow…. So we're back to square one."

Dread filled Harry instantly. He could see how upset Alex was, the heartache in her voice—the homesickness—and he hated this look on her, the opposite to the one he'd just daydreamed about. If there was one thing Harry knew it was what it was to miss home. There was no cure for it. A dozen ways he could offer to help burst to the tip of his tongue, but he held them back.

"I'm sorry, that's really shit. Have …" he hesitated to ask, "Have they put you on another one?"

She smiled through glassy eyes, "It's complicated, that's not really how flights home are working at the moment … But it's alright! I'm fine. I'll get there eventually. I got the refund for the first one, back in April, last week and Paul's let me come back to work here three times now so … This can't last forever, right?"

Harry didn't have an answer for that, he was in no hurry to return to his house as he took a sip of his coffee, "How long has it been since you were home?"

"I went back for a visit a little over two years ago," Alex flipped a button on the espresso machine in front of her, to distract herself from the subject but also the way Harry was watching her. If only she could see the way the hearts were watching each other. She started rinsing out her coffee mug under the stream of boiling water, "My sister came over for Christmas last year, though."

"I just got back from America," Harry provided without knowing where the urge to comfort this stranger was coming from, "I was only gone a few months, and it was a little hard to get back, it felt dreadful, so I can't imagine what it's like for you. That's a long time to be so far from home, especially now."

While he spoke, Alex started making herself a latte, for something to do in the moment and for something to hold onto if Harry stayed at the window.

"How long have you been in London?" He asked. How long have you been just around the corner? Harry thought.

When she looked over at him, Harry felt like she was seeing through him. There was something about her soft, brown eyes and the way they exuded kindness that had him buoyant with giddiness at the same time as feeling incredibly self-conscious.

"Four years now," Alex told him, "Was supposed to be just a 12-month adventure."

"Your family must miss you then."

She shrugged, "I think they're used to it now. Life moves on without you, which is strange at first. Tough to get used to, that the people who own you suddenly have lives you only know about from catch-ups and Instagram posts."

Harry didn't know how to tell her that he knew exactly what she meant. He'd been struggling with that very notion for years now. Home never left like the same home he remembered, and wherever he found himself living—LA or the road—never quite felt right either.

"I've loved it though," Alex added, "Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't. This year though … I just want to be home, London's… Lost something."

Harry watched her shake herself out of the sad moment, her face brightened, and he barely registered the way Alex said in a genuinely upbeat fashion that she'd just have to wait for her time. He smiled along with the rising of her cheeks and felt like he saw a transition between two feelings that was entirely healthy and okay. She wasn't pretending. Her graciousness and patience with life were astounding, despite the fact he'd equally seen her sadness as being genuine as well. The balance there was enlightening.

"Need to make the most of the bonus time you've been given here then," he tried hesitantly. The hearts nodded at each other, gleefully.

That had been the right thing to say, the smile on Alex's face amplified in agreement, "Exactly.”

3AM 'She's got a little bit of something' &&&

Alex was sitting on an upturned milk crate as Harry rounded the corner.

His step faltered but only because she was looking right at him as if expecting him to arrive. He smiled under his mask and tugged it down while he was still a reasonable distance away. Alex smiling at him, holy hell did that taste—the flavour of her spirit—feel good in Harry's chest. Each day for nearly a month he'd felt the same way every time he saw her.

Alex received a text message from Harry just after 7 am that morning. Unlike the ones he sent every other day telling her he was on his way (an old fashioned tip from his sister, to demonstrate to Alex that Harry was thinking of her) that morning Harry told her he wouldn't see her until the afternoon. All day, she waited. Her heart tapped its foot impatiently in her chest, a nervous ticking that made Alex clumsy and disappointed when every new customer wasn't him.

"Hello," Harry grinned back at her, because that was all he could do, really. In her presence happiness exploded out of him and charged his whole body faster than caffeine ever could. His shoe scuffed the concrete path again as he looked at the closed cafe behind her, "Did I miss something?"

Harry stopped a safe distance from her, not sure how this new level of interaction would go. He'd never seen her whole body all at once, part of her was always obscured by the cafe window. Alex in the flesh—in the whole—was like the first taste of chilli on his tongue, invigorating in a way that stole the breath from his lungs.

"We close at three every day," she stayed seated but pushed another crate towards him with her foot. There were brown smudges of coffee grind all up and down her shins, and he guessed the black jeans she wore to work were strategic.

Harry squinted the sign on the window by the door, he was always occupied by her and didn't need arbitrary activities like reading signs to keep him entertained waiting for his coffee, "Really?"

"You usually come in the morning," Alex said pleasantly, waiting for him to sit down opposite her, "Here."

Harry was overwhelmed, he really was, by the sight of a white takeaway cup in her hand, and he reached for it carefully, "What's this—Alex."

"Can't have you missing your coffee … Made it right before closing, had to put the tiniest drop of milk in there otherwise it would shit itself and taste horrendous," she laughed at his wrinkled nose at the mention of milk, he sniffed the lid just to tease her or to get her to roll her eyes at him blithely. It worked, "It won't kill you, promise."

"Says someone whose intestines know how to handle lactose without making you shit yourself," he borrowed her phrase. Sounded better when Alex said it, with the wideness and the breadth of her accent.

Alex tilted her head back and laughed. Really laughed and Harry didn't have it in him to be embarrassed or scold himself for how he just spoke about his bowels in front of her, because the sound is marvellous and so Alex. It's unapologetic and genuine and a touch off-beat, which he loves.

"Holy shit," she let out a long, shaking breath afterwards, holding a palm to her rib as if in pain. She was pretending not to notice how Harry stared at her while she was laughing as if extremely happy with himself. "You wear white bottoms far too often for that to be a daily worry for you."

"Oh, it's a worry," Harry insisted, mainly to keep the joke going. He felt like his face was about to crack in half, "I can't have people spiking my coffees without my knowledge," Harry took a sip but then pointed his finger at her playfully, "I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."

As if he wasn't already.

"Busy day?" Alex asks, watching Harry take a hearty sip of the coffee she made him.

"Yeah, I um … I had some, ah, work stuff."

"Oh?" Alex crossed one leg over the other and looked at Harry with (mock) interest, "What do you do for work?"

Harry's eyes bulged involuntarily, and his mind went completely blank. Did she actually not know?

Alex only let the horror play on his face for a few seconds, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. Jesus, Harry, sorry. I was just having a go."

"You're an excellent actress, as it turns out," he swallowed down the moment of panic. It only ever happened once before, years before, that a girl he'd been interested in hadn't known who Harry was beforehand. It hadn't ended up going down well.

Alex asks Harry about the book recommendation she sent him the week before, whether he'd started reading it yet.

Harry held up a finger at her, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, "But I haven't had lunch … I'd promised myself one of Paul's ham and cheese croissants."

"Well, you're shit out of luck, unfortunately," Alex told him, "He takes the keys with him, I can't break in and make you one. But the cafe on the high street around the corner stays open until five. You could try there?"

Harry felt like he was about to defecate himself, but it wasn't from the lactose, "Will you join me?"

Alex's eyes brightening instantly, but Harry didn't miss the way her cheeks reddened, "Sure. Of course."

"Great!" Harry coughed down his too-enthusiastic response then worried—as everyone did in 2020—that his physical reaction to her saying yes, the cough, would be interpreted as a symptom of something else entirely. He checks the time on his Apple Watch, "Should we go then?"

They walk in step away from The Daily Dose, and away from the previous pattern of their friendship. It strikes them both that this is the first time (both trip over 'first' in their minds as having the possibility to suggest it happening more often but their hearts have known all along, of course) they were out in the world together, the first time they were more than barista and customer.

Harry's hand touched Alex's forearm when they got to the cafe's door as he held it open and encouraged her to go inside. They ordered takeaway, Harry got a croissant (he was still working on the coffee Alex made him) while Alex ordered a tea. They then walked back a little way to where there was a small park with vacant seats Harry noticed on the way past.

"So, the book …" Alex asked him, the lid of her tea is off to let the heat escape. She’d crossed her legs and angled her hips towards him on the bench seat. Harry faced forward, heart hammering as he tried to remember how to use his voice.

Harry struggled to look dignified while biting into his too-hot croissant, the cheese burnt his lip, but he tried to hide it, "Oh, yeah, well, I haven't started it."

"I thought you said you wanted to speak to me about it!" She laughed.

"A ploy," Harry admitted sheepishly, "Was trying to figure out how to ask you to come with me."

In her head, Alex squealed. Her heart held two thumbs up at Harry's.

"How's the coffee," she asked, eyeing the cup in his hand.

Harry grins, knowing his next line is a winner, "Best in London, easily."

+++

GIve me all your best Alex & Harry theories Act 3, Hearts beat not fail - coming soon!

+++

Tag list: @afterhoursharry @beautifuleclipses @bumbershots @coffee-doodle-doo @decadentdonkeyflowerzonk @elemayox @ficsthatmakemeswoon @finelinesupremacy @greatestview @hatnightin2008 @ifiwereaboy2323 @just-damn-bored @kakaym @lifeandsomethingelse @luminescencefics @micurq27 @miorni @monpetitchouchou16 @morethanamelodyy @piawhat @rubytersteege @stepping-into-the-light @steppingonoranges @stylesfics-xx @stylishmuser @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime @ursamajor603 @veryplatoniccircunstances @whatevarandomlygoes Sign up for the tag list here

#fic: terrible to meet you #1dff #harry fic #harry styles story #harry fan fic #harry styles fanfic

165 notes · View notes

johns-prince · 3 years

Note

Let's play the speculation game and say McLennon was real. Going with the common idea that Paul dumped John in India, wasn't the "let's all be friends, write together and go on double dates with our wives" angle Paul seemed to hope for completely delusional? Why would someone with John's issues stick around and celebrate Paul's happiness with someone else after being downgraded?

I have great respect for Paul's decision of not being John's nanny/handler for the rest of his life. But I've always been annoyed by his inability to let the man go for good. Paul, you've made your choice, my friend. Enough with the sad songs about not being called back or turning up on John's doorstep with a guitar when the he was spending time with his own family. People hate that but some things in the world really are black or white. You can't have it both ways.

Why speculate when we know it was and is real

Alright so, let me try to unpack my thoughts cohesively get ya tinfoil hats on y’all;

If we go with the theory that during 1967, when Paul and John were practically living together and conjoined at the hip, taking LSD together and sharing those intense and intimate experiences that even Pau’s girlfriend Jane had become envious of— John had come to the realization of what he wanted, finally acknowledged it and came to accept it.

So in India, John tried to confront Paul about their relationship and their “relationship,” and openly admit to Paul that he wanted more, that he was now willing to leave Cynthia and Julian for a life he truly wanted or desired, and that included Paul (but to what extent is what we debate I guess)

And now that I’m thinking about it, we also know John was sort of beginning to spiral downward in 1968. It was obvious his marriage with Cynthia was at it’s end, and he didn’t want to work on it anymore. He was surrounding himself more with druggies, an unsavory crowd that Cynthia really didn’t approve of (Yoko was part of this crowd) and he was actively pulling away.

I think John was realizing that, he just wasn’t happy. That, putting everything he had into becoming one of the most successful musicians in the world, to become bigger then Elvis Presley, didn’t make him happy. It didn’t fix what needed fixing in him, what needed addressing. He was still drowning despite it all.

So you’ve got the trip to India, the boys going in hopes that perhaps the Maharishi Mahesh Yog and his spiritual teachings would somehow give a new perspective on things, produce the answer that would save the band (save John and Paul) from what appeared to be an inevitable downfall. But as we know, that isn’t what was needed.

John and Paul needed to talk. The lack of consistent communication between them for years and years, and the fact John needed a therapist, he needed rehab. So did Paul, during the White Album era.

I don’t believe Paul dumped John, but I do think John could have easily misconstrued Paul taking a step back and not willing to just go blindly, impulsively jumping off a theoretical cliff with him, as being rejected. We know Paul had to sort of take the position of ‘think before you leap’, to be more conscious of the actions and decisions he and the others decide to take, and how it would effect them as individuals, and especially them as a band (because frankly the others wouldn’t) and we know that John could be incredibly impulsive, only thought of the consequences after the fact. That, and who’s to say such a proposition and confrontation from John hadn’t scared Paul? Got him feeling those insecurities of his own crawling up.

Paul wanted a traditional family, he wanted to have a wife and children. But Paul also wanted John, he wanted and loved Lennon-McCartney, and he didn’t think (or he’d hoped) him getting married and having a family would really change anything between them (because John got married and had a kid and they were still able to do go and do whatever they wanted together, so what was the difference—) that he could still keep what he had with John, that they could still stay together after The Beatles split. Get around to writing that musical, and grow old together still writing and making music, still creating together.

How I see it, is that Paul wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Paul, being fine with keeping the status quo between them, it was safe and enough (right?), but John vehemently wasn’t fine with it anymore, and it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was enough for him, as we know; John was a very all-or-nothing individual, and expected complete devotion and love from someone, because receiving less felt like rejection and abandonment was only around the corner. This way of feeling and thinking for John was only exasperated by the drugs, his alcoholism, and his spiraling mental health.

Paul could have tried compromising with John, and John still could have taken that as a complete rejection of his feelings and what he wanted, and what he had hoped and thought Paul also wanted.

I believe Paul probably didn’t even know himself what he had done wrong, or that he did anything wrong. I don’t think Paul believed he was downgrading John to anything either.

If only they had talked.

Then they returned from India, and the rest as we know it...

“To me, a summary is something like: “gifted, disturbed boy with tremendous amount of drive to outrun a bad childhood discovers love for music and creative soulmate(s) and gives everything he has to become the most famous musician in the world, hoping it will make him happy. He does, but it doesn’t, and people who don’t have his best interests separate him from his friends, his creation and creative spark, and ultimately himself. He’s too screwed up by addiction, mental illness, and unaddressed traumas to change things, so he retreats further into addiction and mental illness, wishing he could somehow regain his lost spark. He makes a few halfway steps toward doing so, but they’re not enough, and ultimately he is killed in front of his apartment building where, 24 hours later, his wife installs the man she had been sleeping with behind his back.”"

— Michael Bleicher, The Artist as a Dissipated Man: Fred Seaman’s “The Last Days of John Lennon.”

Right, so both John and Paul made their choices in life. Some choices and decisions that we as fans and outside observers might never be able to understand, or agree with.

But who’s to say Paul (and John), couldn’t, didn’t, or don’t regret those choices and decisions?

I get what you’re saying, I understand. Why can’t Paul move on? He made his choices, why is it 40, 50 years later, that Paul can’t just let John go? Let sleeping dogs lie, all that.

Because Paul loved John, still loves John, to this day.

Because, clearly Paul has some regrets. He regrets how things were handled during the Divorce. He regrets not hugging John enough. He regrets not telling John, when he had the chance and time, that he loved him (and without the help of alcohol) When you love someone so deeply, and suddenly, without warning, they’re taken from you and the world, you regret a lot, and you miss what could have been, the ‘What if’s.’

Paul said that what he and John were, were soulmates. I don’t know how it feels to lose a soulmate. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to know how it feels to get the opportunity to love and be around them.

How awful do you think it is to meet your soulmate, but you cannot freely love them? Can’t just, be, with them? Not in just one way, bestmates, legendary partners, but, as everything that the word Soulmate brings along and includes with it?

That God decided to have them be of the same sex, during a time where it was illegal to love and be with someone of the same sex, and could even be a potential death sentence to be assumed or thought of as a ‘queer.’

So, you take whatever you can with them.

Then that isn’t enough. One grows restless, desperate for more. It can’t happen, not realistically, not without consequences of varying degrees.

Strain, miscommunication to none. They communicate through a musical, artistic language which just isn’t enough. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness and emotional turmoil, it’s all too much. It breaks. Soulmates are still flawed human beings.

You have people who work to purposefully pin them against each other. Parasites and piggybackers.

A nasty divorce and breakup between two lovers that never were.

And then, after ten years, it’s happening. You two are talking again, things are tense and awkward still sometimes, but something’s changed. You’ve planned on reuniting, couldn’t do it this year, because the studio you wanted was booked. So you plan for after the New Year.

Then, your soulmate is killed. Just, taken away from you, like nothing. Violently and suddenly. And all the possibilities... The time... Gone. Ripped away from both of you.

I can’t blame Paul for not letting go. I can’t say I’d ever be able to understand the sort of pain and heartbreak he experienced. He still goes through it! It’s still there. He’s just learned how to manage it a bit better.

I’d say it’s more pathetic then it is annoying— and I don’t mean it in a way to insult Paul. I really don’t. Because John was just as pathetic when it came to his obvious obsession, desire, and love for Paul, too.

Love, that kind of soul-deep love, it can make you pathetic and hopeless. And it’s not something you can just... let go for good.

Wanting, or expecting Paul to let go of John for good... Firstly would be impossible, and secondly, how do you let go of a soulmate? John is a part of Paul, whether some like it or not. Can’t really have one without the other.

Can’t have Lennon without McCartney, and vice-or-versa. Forever intertwined, are they.

#questionsquestionsquestions #mclennon #beatles discussion/discourse #I think all I did was ramble again I'm sorry #this isn't even that good

131 notes · View notes

beatles-slash-fiction · 3 years

Note

Sorry, missclick.

It's "beatles. Fucking. Hard."

yknow like ugh poly beatles after a show giving all they got

I'm horny im sorry

Have a nice night bee we love ya

Ringo has noticed since joining the group that the four of them will be in one of two distinct moods following a show.

The first, which is the most common, is complete and utter exhaustion. This tends to occur if they’ve had a long day of travel, or if they’ve been mobbed by a particularly large crowd outside their hotel, or if they’ve quarrelled about the set order in their dressing room beforehand.

The second, which is a lot rarer, is pure joy and excitement. This tends to occur if they’ve given a particularly good performance, or if they’ve not been mobbed at all that day, or if they’ve had a few drinks and a joint beforehand.

Luckily tonight it’s the second category.

They’ve had an unusually quiet day and it’s been one of the few days on tour they’ve actually been able to spend some relaxing time together, and Ringo just had a feeling it was going to be a good evening. The show goes incredibly well, they manage to slip out the back afterwards without anyone noticing, and they’re all quite giggly during the car ride to the hotel.

And Ringo knows what that means.

He’s come to learn that when all four of them are in a good mood after a show, very very good sex follows.

Sure enough, as soon as they all stumble through the door of their hotel suite, Ringo finds himself pressed up against the wall by Paul, who starts kissing his neck.

“So,” Paul says before licking Ringo’s jaw. “Do we all want to take a shower together first, or shall we just get right down to it?”

Ringo’s dick twitches. He doesn’t think he’ll make it to the sex if he has to have a shower with these three.

“We’ll only have to shower again afterwards,” John points out, before tackling a giggling George to the bed.

“Very good point,” Paul agrees, reaching for Ringo’s belt.

Ringo’s head thumps against the wall as Paul’s hand finds its way inside his trousers and underwear, and his heart suddenly sounds so loud in his own ears. Paul’s strokes are slow and methodical, and although Ringo can’t see John and George, he can hear George’s little sighs and moans.

Paul unbuttons Ringo’s shirt with his free hand, licking one nipple then the other, and soon Ringo is standing in an awkward pile of his clothes as he’s wanked off slowly.

“Rich,” Paul says, softly, affectionately, touching their foreheads together. “Beautiful Rich.”

Ringo just about catches a glimpse of George on all fours with John very enthusiastically eating him out from behind, before realising he’s being terribly selfish. He drops to his knees and reaches for Paul’s belt, smiling as the younger man strokes his hair.

As he sucks Paul off, Ringo can’t help but reflect on how easy this always seems to be. When he’d been with the Hurricanes, group sex had always been a bit more awkward- no one seemed to really know who to be with first or what to do.

It’s different with the Beatles though. They have their own rhythm, and they can just read each other so easily. And it’s probably the first time Ringo has actually enjoyed giving blowjobs, rather than just doing it to please someone else.

One reflection he does have though is that it’s always very predictable. Not that there’s anything bad with that- but it is always usually the same, even if in a slightly different format.

They’ll pair off during foreplay so that they all get a chance to be with each other, and then they’ll normally fuck as two couples next to each other on the bed. The pairings will change but the basic formula stays the same.

Sure enough, after sucking Paul off for a few minutes, Ringo finds himself being pulled away by John for a kiss while Paul and George pass a bottle of lube between each other on the bed.

“Look at them together,” John purrs. “Fucking beautiful, eh? They’re gonna finger each other open ready for us, Ringo. Ready for us to fuck them into the mattress.”

Ringo could never get tired of watching Paul and George do this, but again it’s nothing new.

John seems to be too excited to notice that Ringo has something on his mind though, and wraps an arm around the smaller man to pull him close. He grabs their cocks in one hand and starts to stroke them together, and grabs Ringo’s arse with the other hand.

Ringo lets himself enjoy it as he keeps his eyes on Paul and George, who are clearly putting on a bit of a show for them.

“You take George, yeah?” John says, pupils blown wide as he gazes at Paul.

Ringo would say that the vast majority of the time he ends up fucking George. And that isn’t a bad thing at all; he adores fucking George, and even though they’ve all told each other that they don’t have favourites and everyone in their relationship is equal, Ringo knows that’s not completely true.

And if he had to pick a favourite...well. He knows who it would be.

But by the time Paul and George are lying side by side on the bed, and Ringo is climbing on top of George, he can’t help but notice George is pouting.

“What’s wrong?” Ringo asks, caressing the younger man’s cheek. “Are you tired?”

George shakes his head. “I was just thinking. We always do this.”

Great minds think alike.

“Eh?” John raises an eyebrow as Paul wraps his legs around his waist. “You mean have sex? Aye, we do that quite a lot.”

“No,” George says with a slight scowl. “I mean we always just end up pairing off like this. And it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but...I dunno. It would be nice if all four of us could have sex together. So we’re like a proper foursome instead of two couples having sex next to each other.”

And that’s when Ringo has an idea.

“There is something we could try,” Ringo says with a grin. “It’s something I did a few times with the Hurricanes.”

The others certainly look intrigued, and Ringo takes a minute to think through how he might choreograph this. If they pull it off, he’s sure it will be something really special.

“Okay,” Ringo says, trying to feign confidence. “John- keep going. Keep Paul on his back and fuck him like that, but keep your back straight. Don’t lean over Paul.”

John does so, entering Paul slowly, and George looks a little sceptical, clearly trying to work out where Ringo is going with this.

Ringo allows John to fuck Paul for just a few minutes before telling them both to hold still.

“Okay. Now, Georgie, you climb on top of Paul. Ride him.”

George raises an eyebrow. “With John still...?”

“Yes.”

George looks a little hesitant as he straddles Paul, glancing over his shoulder at John behind him.

“It’s alright,” Ringo says encouragingly. “You know what to do, Georgie.”

George fumbles with Paul’s cock, trying to line it up with his entrance, but he’s clearly nervous with all eyes on him.

“Here,” Ringo says softly. “I’ll hold this.” He takes hold of Paul’s erection with one hand. “And this.” He takes George’s hand with the other. “And all you have to do is sit.”

George smiles gratefully as he slowly impales himself, and Ringo can’t help but think the three of them look so beautiful together. Joined as one, as close as can possibly be.

“What about you though?” George asks. “You can’t be left out.”

“I won’t be,” Ringo promises, kneeling on the bed next to Paul. “Not if you give me a helping hand.”

He guides George’s hand to his own cock.

“So we just move?” John asks, sounding impatient.

“Yep,” Ringo chuckles. “Pretty much.”

It’s a little clumsy at first. John and George are moving at slightly different paces, although Paul doesn’t seem to mind, and George isn’t focussing enough to give Ringo a decent handjob.

But Ringo tells John to slow down a little and George to try and ride Paul a little faster, and they’re soon finding their rhythm, and George is stroking Ringo much more confidently.

The bed is creaking and shaking as they fuck, and it’s quite possibly the hottest sex they’ve ever had. It’s also the most intimate; it’s the first time they’ve all really been part of a sex act together at the same time.

Paul is the first to come; unsurprising since he’s got a dick inside him and George’s tight heat engulfing his own cock. John follows not soon after, and then George covers Ringo’s lips with his own and they’re coming together; waves of pleasure rolling through them.

Afterwards they untangle themselves and collapse in a heap on the bed, sweaty and exhausted.

“Ringo,” John says breathlessly. “You’re a fucking genius.”

Ringo beams as the others shower him with kisses.

#poly!beatles

31 notes · View notes

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“I know you, Harry Styles” Pt. 2

aka “You’re an Angel”

how harry always be lookin’ at you ^^

AHHH so I’m so glad I wrote a second part of this! It got to be much more enjoyable once I just starting writing what I wanted and not keeping with the original idea I had lol. - I hope y’all enjoy: give me feedback and also I’d love some requests :)

Cannot believe I gave this a slight musical twist bahaha

Also more music was inspiring me to write (that’s usually how it goes) so main songs were: Besame Mucho - the beatles and Time of the Season - the zombies (both mentioned in the story but if you wanted to get ready lol

Word Count: 6.6k (lmao what is wrong with me) | Warnings: kissing, allusion to smut, mentions of covid/quarantine, a little self-doubt/allusion to insecurity, FLUFF

Part 1

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

His lips connected with yours. The kiss was chaste, but it felt so good. Your lips tugged slightly on his lower lip and Harry continued to kiss you. Then he gave you one more kiss that lingered on your lips, his lower lip slowly pulling itself over yours before he completely pulled away. The warmth of his lips remained on you even when he was gone, but you couldn’t help yourself from trying to tug him back down onto you.

You went to bed that night flustered, to say the least. You couldn’t shake the thought of what almost was down on that couch. It excited you, but it scared you a little too. You didn’t actually know this guy, even if he was famous Harry Styles. You wanted to get to know the actual person, Harry, before you did anything you might regret. It also scared you because this would eventually end. Your lives weren’t connected except for David and that was a rather loose connection. It wasn’t realistic to get involved with Harry, no matter how hot it felt to almost kiss him.

You woke up from the light flooding into your room, through the beautiful, yet impractical, sheer white curtains. You groaned, a slight grogginess from drinking last night. Then you remembered the events of last night, and you groaned louder.

“Oh God,” you moaned to yourself in disbelief, before sliding out of the bed. You padded to the window and looked outside, the view from here was incredible, the city to your left, the vast hills to your right. This offered you some comfort.

Then, you went over to the mirror in the corner of the room. Your hair was a mess from sleep, your eyes were drooping, and your clothes that you had slept in were askew. You rubbed your face with a single palm before setting out to the bathroom down the hall. You crept slowly, worrying you might run into Harry in your unideal state, which would make the events of last night all the more embarrassing. However, when you left the room, you heard music coming from downstairs and decided Harry was likely down there as well.

After the bathroom, you looked in your mirror once more. Your appearance was far more uniform now, even if you were still in your sleepwear. Harry still hadn’t learned what quarantine was so you were assuming he’d be in some nice outfit. You didn’t know what would be worse, going down in the oversized t-shirt you had worn to sleep last night or getting dressed like you actually had something to do today - when you didn’t. You decided to go with the easiest option, go with what you got. You added shorts underneath the shirt for some coverage and ventured downstairs.

There, the music became clearer to you. The Beatles’ rendition of “Besame Mucho” had just begun and Paul’s voice was extra sultry in it. You loved this song and you almost ceased to exist when you saw a shirtless Harry singing animatedly to it as he made himself cereal.

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Harry. He had begun to sing to his cereal box when it had started, but he looked at you directly when he realized you were there. The way he sang out, “Besame, Besame mucho,” similar to Paul, was full of sexual yearning.

His tone made you feel something deep inside, but it also made you feel like you were right where you were last night. But it was morning now, no wine to blame. Just the two of you with your eyes locked and Harry singing “kiss me, kiss me a lot.” The two minute song seemed to last forever. However, when it finally ended, Harry released you from his stare. You were in disbelief that the tension from last night had been so quick to pop up this morning.

“Lovely song,” Harry threw out as he passed by you and went somewhere else to enjoy his cereal. You stood there, still dumbfounded at what had just happened. You shook yourself out of it and went to prepare your own breakfast.

Finding all the ingredients for your breakfast smoothie, you blended them up, poured it into a glass, cleaned up and headed out into the house. Slightly in search of you entrancing roommate, but also interested in taking advantage of all the space this house provided.

Harry was sitting in a different sitting room than the one from last night. You were happy with the change in scenery, not wanting any more reminders of last night. This room was smaller than the other, but it had a cute, little fireplace and you could imagine nights of laughing around the crackling fire, snuggled up next to someone you loved. You pushed the thought from your mind, knowing you didn’t have someone to snuggle with.

Harry had transferred his music to this room's bluetooth system and a random playlist was on, you assumed. He was happily chowing on his cereal when you entered and you smiled sheepishly at him. You crossed to the empty spot on the couch, the furthest one from his toned, tattooed, naked torso.

He raised his brows at your presence. “Hey,” you said, you had no clue what else you could say. “Hey,” he echoed in response. Silence. God, this is awkward, you thought. How could you have gone and screwed this up already? You mentally facepalmed.

Harry broke the silence, “Any plans for today?”

“Ah no, David doesn’t really have anything for me to do right now, but,” you stopped for a second to sip on your smoothie, “I think I’m going to take Checkers out on a walk at some point.”

Harry perked up at the mention of Checkers, “Let me know when, I’d love to get some fresh air and play with Checkers, too.”

You nodded, knowing the conversation was ending already and you’d go back to the awkward silence.

Harry and you went your separate ways again after breakfast.

At around 3, you decided it’d be a good time to walk Checkers so you grabbed one of his leashes and searched the house for the dog. In the living room, from last night, you found Harry, laying on his stomach, with his arms around the tiny pup, snuggling him and whispering to him.

You heard one snippet: “You’re such a cute lil’ baby, aren’t you? I love you,” he cooed to the dog below him. Your smile made an appearance on your face.

Clearing your throat, you notified Harry of your presence.

Harry flitted his gaze up to you standing behind him, brows raised once again. “I thought we could go for the walk, if you’re still interested,” you said, holding up the leash.

Harry jumped to his feet and thought better of making a comment about who the leash was for. Instead he said, “Yeah, thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Of course.” You leashed up Checkers and went for the front door.

“Actually,” Harry’s words stopped you, “do you think we could go out the back gate?”

You stood there slightly confused, you knew there was a path from the back, but you preferred walking to a patch of grass that required you to go out the front door.

“Um,” you started, not particularly wanting to change your plan.

Harry elaborated, “It’s just, I’d prefer no pap photos and the back walk is much more private.”

You understood his preference and you knew you didn’t want to be part of a twitter storm of “Who is that with Harry Styles!” and you, even more, didn’t want to be part of the twitter storm that followed the first: the deep dive into your life and then whatever terrible thing they decided to say about you afterwards.

“That’s fine, I wouldn’t want that either.” You switched courses and Checkers was roaring to go, prancing and yipping excitedly.

Harry mulled over what you said, he was, on one hand, glad you weren’t eager to be seen with him, but he also felt another feeling, possibly rejection, on the other hand, that you didn’t want to be seen with him. He didn’t know why he felt that, especially because he had been the one to bring it up.

Once out on the path, you actually let Checkers off his leash, he knew to stay close and since you weren’t walking next to streets you didn’t have to worry about cars.

That left you and Harry to walk beside each other while Checkers went around exploring and sniffing everything. It felt weird to have your hands next to each other yet not touching as you walked. The path was wide enough for the proximity of your bodies to not be as they were, but for some reason you and Harry had decided to walk within touching distance.

Harry wasn’t one for silence, you were beginning to realize, as he always seemed to be the first to fill it whenever it fell between the two of you.

First, he commented on Checkers and how smart of a dog he was for how small he was. You responded with something about how looks can be deceiving, even with dogs. Harry laughed. Silence. Then, he commented on the nature around the two of you and how beautiful it was. You only said “I love it.” Silence.

Harry was at a roadblock, mentally, there were no roadblocks on the path. The three of you had been walking for ten minutes and you had only said about ten words. Last night had been so fun for him and then you ran off and he felt like it all had been ruined. Now, today the two of you had been walking on eggshells around one another.

He thought back to last night and ran through the list of things the two of you had meshed on. There was actually quite a bit and he was determined to get back to the ease of conversation that had occurred between you two last night. Finally he had it. Travel.

“If you had to live in one country for the rest of your life, where would you go,” he paused, “And why!”

“Did you just pull out an icebreaker on me?” you asked, incredulous at the man walking beside you.

You had been content with the silence, but obviously had to bite at his question. It was a good question.

“I have no idea what that is,” Harry shrugged, crossing his arms nonchalantly. Your face turned to him and you couldn’t help your laughter. You could tell he was trying to be cute - and it was working.

You thought about his question for a moment.

“Am I able to travel still or am I required to stay in that one country at all times?” “You have to stay there at all times, but you can travel to different places in the country.”

You hummed at his response. “Alright,” you began, “Do you want to hear my thought process?”

Harry nodded eagerly, “Please.”

You knew you talking more would make him happy and honestly you were happy to oblige. As awkward as you felt after last night, you knew you had to shake it off. You were both adults, Harry probably has kissed plenty of his friends and it's been nothing, you sure had. You could’ve been another name on each other’s list of friends you’ve kissed. It was hard for you to think of a reason as to why it had been so daunting for you to face Harry today.

“Ok, so the smart choice for a travel happy person would be the United States because it is very large and you could travel around within the country to different places.”

Harry looks at you, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “Uh-huh,” he encouraged you to continue.

“But, honestly I’ve always wanted to get out of this country. So then my next idea was Japan because while it may be small, I love it there and everyone is wonderful. It’s just this awesome place.”

Harry’s smile was now an entire grin, he loved how animated you had become. “But?”

You laughed at the fact that he already knew what you were going to say. “Exactly, but! I don’t know the language, so I would have to spend a long time learning it either there or here first and as you get older, picking up a language is hard, and Japanese is a complicated language even if you are young.”

Harry nodded, again. This time you needed no verbal encouragement to keep going, travel excited you.

“Final answer,” you said, tone dire, like you were on a game show about to win the big money prize.

“Final answer,” Harry echoed.

He had flipped around and was walking backwards, you had no idea why, but he had wanted to get a better look at your face. It had lit up while talking and he just wanted to memorize the twinkle in your eye.

“France. It’s relatively large - with cities, coasts, and countryside. It's wonderful, filled with beautiful art and history. I speak the language already, and even though the French can be a little mean, I, also, in fact, can be a little mean.”

Harry bit back his laugh and clapped his hands.

“Wonderful answer, Ms. ...,” He paused, confusion filling his face, “I actually never got your last name, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you said before quickly telling him your last name, then he repeated his praise, adding it to the end.

You smiled back at him, feeling pride for your answer even if it was something silly. Harry made you feel extremely special. It was almost like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

You jumped a bit to get back in pace with him and he turned back around.

“What about you, Mr. Styles, where would you go if you could only live in one place for the rest of your life?” You nudged his exposed arm, the one that wasn’t covered in tattoos - just the eagle, as you repeated his question.

He sighed and looked at the sky, thinking for a moment.

“Are people allowed to visit me?” he asked, turning his head back to you.

“Sure, it’s not like you’re dropping off the face of the earth, people would know where you’ve gone,” you said.

“But you wouldn’t be able to visit me?” Harry followed up.

You responded to Harry with a question. “In this scenario are we both moving to places that we are never able to leave?”

He shrugged, looking to you for the answer since he had asked the initial question that had complicated the scenario.

You huffed and then took it upon yourself to decide. “Ok, so anyone who is not in a similar agreement as the one we have entered into in the scenario is allowed to visit you. So as long as your mum doesn’t enter into an agreement where she moves to one country for the rest of her life - that isn’t the same as the one you pick- then she can still visit you.”

Harry nods and snorts a little at how much you had just said in one breath. “Still no you though?” he teased.

“No me,” you confirmed, smiling that he was considering you in the scenario, even if it wasn’t plausable thing at all. Like you said, he made you feel special.

“Ok, well,” Harry finally began his answer, “I like France.”

He continued to look at you, but you knew he wasn’t done. “And I’m glad you cleared up the mum thing, because that would’ve probably swayed me back to England.”

He chuckled at himself, which caused you to roll your eyes playfully and whisper a little laughing “Shut up.”

He went on, “I like the idea of Japan or Italy as well, but I don’t know the languages there either. I don’t know, even with my Mum still able to visit me, I just love my home.”

You bit your lip, that might just be the cutest thing in the world.

“I love traveling around, I do. But, I want to go live in the English countryside some day. Have a little farm and a little family. We could go into the city if we needed, but it’d be a quiet little life and it’d be all mine. So, if I could only live in one country for the rest of my life it’d have to be England.”

You blinked and smiled softly at the sentiment. He described something so beautiful and the way he said it, he sounded so sincere - he’d obviously thought about the idea before - settling in the English countryside with a family.

“That makes sense,” you started, your voice low, just above a whisper.

Harry must have thought he detected some sadness in your voice because he was quick to say, “Technically, you know, the English Channel is half English territory and half French. So if we wanted to see each other, we could take boats out and meet in the middle, without leaving our respective countries.”

You threw your head back in laughter, but then you stopped in your tracks. You turned to your right and went off the path to a little patch of flowers you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. Your body crouched and picked one of the taller wildflowers.

Harry had followed after calling to Checkers, letting the dog know of your pause in the walk. He and the dog came up to you. You turned your body back to Harry who was watching you intently.

“We could see each other,” you looked at him and extended the long flower to him. “But we wouldn’t be able to touch,” you studied him carefully, he was like a puzzle - and you weren’t very good at puzzles, “Not without breaking the rules of our agreements.”

Harry delicately touched the opposite end of the flower between you. His eyes flickered between the flower and your face. He smirked, “It’s a good thing that none of it’s real, then.”

He plucked the flower from you with one hand and grabbed your now empty hand with his other. He spun you around and your laughter came out a little high pitched from the surprise of his actions.

“Harry!” you exclaimed, you loved his spontaneity, but you felt like you couldn’t show just how much you really enjoyed what he was doing. He was still spinning you until he extended his arm and you thought it was the end. Until he tugged you and you spun right into his chest, leaving you wrapped up in his arm and staring at his face right above yours.

As you worked to catch your breath, you placed a hand on his chest. You could feel his heart beating below your hand, it was practically in sync with yours. Harry didn’t know that though and he feared you’d think his heart was racing unreasonably. Your smile calmed him down as you continued to stare adoringly up at him. It was nice to be held so close. He was so warm and soft.

“Can you not run away this time?” His tone was playful, but his eyes were serious. His jaw flexed beneath his skin as his eyes squinted slightly at you.

“I’m sorry?” you licked your lips. You didn’t understand his question.

“Can you not run away before I can kiss you,” he repeats. Oh, you thought.

“Harry…” you trailed off, conflicted. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted him to just lean down and take your breath away with the touch of his lips.

“Just let me kiss you, please,” he was begging. Why did he have to beg? And give you that look that made you want to melt into him?

“We barely know each other,” you finally get out. It pained you to even put your thoughts into words.

“So what?” It was more of a statement, than a question when it came from Harry’s lips.

You realized he had a little clip on the top of his head, pulling back his curls. He still managed to look despicably handsome. He reached a hand to curl a strand of your hair between his fingertips. You sighed. Your eyes faltered from the hold his eyes had been keeping, his dimple making an appearance as he smiled sweetly down at you. You could tell that he knew what he was doing to you.

“Wanted to kiss you so bad last night,” Harry continued when he realized you hadn’t formed any words in the last minute.

He began to sway the pair of you slightly in the March breeze. You couldn’t stop your tongue from darting out and wetting your lips at his words. His eyes trained on your face of course didn’t miss the small movement. He only blinked.

“I wanted you to,” you said, still unsure of yourself, “I still want you to.”

His hand in your hair moved to the shell of your ear and trailed lazily onto your jaw. “Then I can kiss you,” he stated, but his voice faltered giving away that he was still a little uncertain.

You put pressure into the hand on his chest, “I’d say you’d have to make me dinner first, but you already did that.” He raised his brows at your change in tone, your words sounding slightly more flirtatious.

You knew what you wanted and hell, maybe this would be the two most fun weeks of your lives.

He leaned down to meet his lips with yours. Softly, your mouths danced together. You pushed your lips into his and his brushed against yours expertly. His pink lips were soft and you felt his bits of chin and mustached scruff on your skin. It all felt amazing. His mouth practically engulfed yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Your body responded by pressing closer and humming a slight moan of satisfaction. Harry liked what he heard. Eventually you both had to come up for air, unbeknownst to your counterparts, both of you had asthma and this hot kiss had taken away your breath a little more than you’d like to admit.

You pulled away from Harry a bit, but he kept his arm around you. “Seems like a good end to the walk, yeah?” Harry asks you. You bit down on your lip and nodded. Checkers had stayed close throughout your whole ordeal, thankfully, but it seemed like he was ready to go back home as well.

Back at the house, Harry and you flowed so much better now. Whether it was the chatting or the kiss, it didn’t matter.

You planned for dinner again, deciding on take out, talked about watching a movie tonight, and then occupied yourselves with various random thoughts.

Whenever you were in reach, Harry had his hands all over you. You weren’t complaining. You liked having him close to you. His skin was fiery while his rings somehow managed to maintain a coolness about them.

The two of you settled in the back room with Checkers. You laid on the couch, while Harry was on his back, on the ground with Checkers laying on his chest. He lazily ran his hand through the dog’s fur, his other hand was extended up and you held his large hand in yours.

Harry had insisted on being the music player for the evening. It had prompted the discussion of music selection switching between the two of them every day, which was reasonable. It wasn’t too awful, Harry and you had similar tastes in music and it was only one day if one of you wasn’t loving the choices being made on your off day. You liked the simplicity of it all.

Over the speakers, “Time of the Season” by the Zombies began to play. You started moving your head side to side to the beat. Harry began singing the main verse. Then you both sang out “it’s the time of the season for loving” not fully grasping at the meaning behind the words.

Harry shifted as the music played so he was sitting at eye level with you. Your face turned to meet his and he smiled as he sang, “What’s your name?” And you giggled and pushed his shoulder. He stayed right where he was, leaning in closer.

You spoke the next verse, “Who’s your Daddy?” while looking straight into Harry’s eyes. He threw his head back and groaned at this, there was no other word for what you had just done to him, it was simply hot.

He tried to grab for you, but you pulled away and sat up, still singing the song. “Is he rich like me?” You caricatured yourself as if you were a wealthy woman on a yacht, flipping your hair and fanning yourself, and finished with a bite to your lip.

Harry followed you up, taking over control of the lyrics, “Has he taken any time?” While he sang he pushed you softly into the back cushions, “to show you.” He pulled his body up over yours, face skimming over the front of your body, then when his face was at the shell of your ear he whispered, “what you need to live?”

You let out a shaky breath. His whisper against you sent sparks tingling straight to your core. He was pressed against you, waiting for you to make a move. The song and performance the two of you had begun was forgotten. You turned your head towards him and he moved to face you.

“Hi,” you giggled and brushed your nose against his.

“You’re an angel.”

“Oh?”

“You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever met. Only makes sense that you’re an angel.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “Down boy! Don’t go writing an album about me.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and he looked at you with slightly squinted eyes. Then he smirked, sneakily, “I just might! I can see it already: Quarantine Angel the Album.”

“You already have a song called ‘Only Angel’ and she was your ‘only’ one so you can’t have another angel?” You tried to sound logical, but you were playing with him and had to try to hide your growing smile.

“Ah-ha!” Harry jumped up at your words and pulled you up with him. This left the two of you standing chest to chest, his hands now taking up residence on your waist. “You are a fan, I knew it!”

“That proves nothing!” You tried to break away from his grasp, but he refused to let you go. Your body twisted in his grasp so that your back was now against his chest and he was hunched over you slightly, trying to keep you from running away.

He scoffed, “C’mon that’s one of my least streamed songs and it’s off my first album. You obviously listen to my music, Y/N!”

You didn’t dignify his remark with a response. You continued to wriggle in his grasp, but you actually were quite happy in his arms.

“You can say you listen to my music, angel, won’t make me like you any less,” He smirked down at you.

“You really are a narcissist,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, angel?” He moved his head around to try and see your face. You huffed, it was clear he wasn’t going to stop with the pet name now that he had it. “Did you say I really am an amazing artist?”

You finally wriggled yourself from his grasp and turned to face him, “No, I said you really are a narcissist.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line as you smirked at him. His mouth then shifted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. You’re not an angel. More like an evil nymph.”

“Why not just make me a demon?” You teased.

He was backing you up into the wall as you continued to talk. “You’re sexier than a demon,” he replied like it was common sense.

“Oh, alright.”

Harry pressed up against you, your back on the wall, his hands back on your body. “See,” he whispered, “That right there. Who responds to someone telling them they're sexy with ‘alright’?”

“I don’t know,” your blush crept up your neck, suddenly feeling much more shy. Harry caressed your cheek, urging you to make eye contact with him. It was hard, but you obliged.

“I don’t usually receive comments like that.”

“But you’re stunning, angel?”

“Thought I was an evil nymph…”

“‘M not calling you an evil nymph, as a petname, you’re so weird.”

“You said it first, not me. But, seriously, I’m not usually one who receives constant attention - like that…”

“That,” Harry paused, nibbling his lower lip, “makes no sense to me. I find you unbelievably attractive and then your personality makes you all the more amazing.”

You continued to blush at his praise. “That,” you poked a finger into the center of his chest, punctuating your words, “is because you're able to find the good bit in everyone that makes them attractive. Plus, most people find my personality to be rather...off-putting.”

Harry tilted his head at your response, the playful conversation had quickly turned serious. “How do you know I always see the good in people?”

“We’ve already been over this, I know you, Harry, you’re a kind person. You do good by others, even if they don’t always do good by you,” you looked at him meaningfully, you wanted him to know that was a good way to be.

“I can be mean sometimes, unkind, angry, jealous, spiteful, all of it. I’m human, Y/N. I like you, not because I like everyone I meet, but because of who you are. Who you’ve shown me you are.” His eyes were looking intently back at you and you thought you might melt. “Your personality is refreshing, it’s real and honest. Anyone who doesn’t like it just doesn’t like being challenged.”

Your eyes faltered from meeting Harry’s gaze. Your hand on his chest fiddled with his cross pendant.

He was wearing a white tank beneath an open short sleeve white button down. It was clean and refreshing. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing come out of his mouth. Like his shirt, it was refreshing to hear someone speak so kindly of you, even though you barely knew one another. It felt so good.

His fingers came down to your chin and tilted your head back up to look at him.

“You’re an angel and you deserve to be told so more often.”

“You’re an amazing kisser, by the way,” you said quietly. Harry chuckled at your words and how you sounded so timid.

“Next you’re gonna tell me you’ve never been properly snogged.”

You disregarded his words, not trying to make yourself sound pathetic, that yes, no one had ever kissed you like Harry did.

“And I’m sorry I boxed you in before. I know you’re human and you have a full range of emotions. It’s unfair of me to say I know you, when I so clearly don’t.”

“Hey, hey, no. I know that’s not what you were saying. I just wanted to show you that I’m not perfect and I have my fair share of critics. Doesn’t mean I’m any less worthy of being treated well. Same goes for you. That was what I was trying to show you.” He wrapped you in his arms and you sighed content to rest your head on his chest and be engulfed by him.

“I want you to believe me when I say you’re an angel,” he kissed the top of your head. “And stunning,” he continued, kissing you again. “And sexy…” he trailed off, stroking your hair. You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest.

The two of you spent the rest of your day together, cuddled on the couch talking and flicking through the various streaming services David had, never able to settle on anything. For dinner, you decided on Chinese takeout and you ate it on the couch.

After you both were satisfied, you leaned into Harry’s side and he extended an arm around your shoulder. You placed one of your arms over his stomach and circularly rubbed him over his butterfly tattoo. You also threw one leg over his lap so your entire body was pressed against his. Harry liked the feel of your body on his, so he adjusted his arm to pull you flush against him.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked. Harry nodded. “Ideas?” He laughed before saying, “Earlier when we were singing Time of the Season, made me feel like I was in a musical.” You echoed his laughter as you looked up at him from your spot on his chest. “Mamma Mia?” You suggested. “Love that one.” “It’s probably on one of these apps?” You scrowled through until you found it for free and flicked it on.

The two of you settled again, pressing closer even if there was nowhere closer to go. It just felt good to feel Harry’s body against yours. Warm and strong, yet soft. You both sang softly to the songs in the beginning, but you loved hearing Harry’s voice so much that you stopped singing along by the third song. You laughed along to the antics of the characters, but you couldn’t help but stare at Harry when he would sing. He mostly kept his eyes on the screen, but would sometimes flicker them down to your face and smile dopily at you.

You fiddled with his necklace again when you would watch the scenes go by. You’d also comment on what was going on, you were never able to sit quietly during a movie or show, you liked to talk about it too much. Harry didn’t seem to mind, saying something if your comment warranted a response.

When ‘Our Last Summer’ started, Harry began to sing again and you motioned between Colin Firth on the screen and Harry. You said, “Harry and Harry.” He laughed while he continued to sing, the words slightly hiccuping due to his laughter. His soothing voice overpowered the three men, who weren’t actually that good of singers, despite him not trying to sing very loud at all. Then, you had to sing, “And your name is Harry!” when it came around. All Harry did was tap your nose and smile down at you. He wanted to tease you, but he liked how sweet you were being with him.

You continued to watch and about half way through the movie you shifted your spot so your face was in line with his. “You really are an amazing singer Harry, like to hear you right in my ear - it’s like magic.” Harry shook his head and grinned. “You’re too sweet to me, angel. Thought you said you weren’t going to give me special treatment.”

You pecked his cheek and bucked your head softly against his, similar to a cat. “It’s different now.” “I know,” he trailed off again. The pair of you turned your focus back to the screen, finishing the movie with some more side comments and kisses throughout.

When it ended, you yawned slightly, “I forgot how long it was.” Harry nodded his agreement. You began to sit up, but Harry pulled you back into him. A sigh left your mouth as you were able to explain how you wanted to upstairs and get ready for bed. “I just want to keep snuggling, angel, you’re so warm.”

“Harry, I need to go to bed.”

“Then sleep with me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sleep with me in my room. You’re such a child, Y/N.”

“Says the one who won’t let me get up and go to sleep just because he wants to keep cuddling,” you gave him a shake of your head with squinted eyes.

“Look, I can guarantee you will enjoy it. I’m a very gentle man in my sleep.”

You threw your head back, still in slight disbelief of the situation you currently found yourself in. Cooped up in a house with Harry and no one else - besides the dog - the end nowhere in sight, since the news kept telling you how dire the situation was, and him constantly flirting with you. Not to mention the casual kissing that always seemed like it was on the verge of going somewhere else. You had no idea what sleeping in the same bed as him might bring. Sure, you didn’t know each other all too well, but look at him, he was gorgeous and if he wanted you, you were definitely not opposed to giving yourself to him.

You blew the air out of your nose and looked back at him. “Fine,” Harry lit up at your words, “But, you have to go let me brush my teeth and change.”

“I can agree to those terms.”

Then the two of you set off upstairs, Harry practically dragging you by the arm. But the smile never left your face. Checkers had gone to bed hours ago in the den, he preferred to sleep downstairs.

Once you were ready, you headed down the hall to Harry’s room. You admittedly had done a bit more than just change and brush your teeth - full skin care, reapplication of deodorant and some lotion, you didn’t want to smell gross when you were sleeping in the same bed as him.

He’d left the door slightly ajar, but you still decided it was polite to knock. “Come in,” he called, he was already in bed. You stepped into the room in some sleep shorts and a shirt that ended below the shorts, meaning you appeared to be only in the shirt. The room was dimly lit and you scurried to the bed. Harry sat up and dangled his legs off the bed when you came over. You stood in between his legs as he looked at you, running his hand over your face. You loved when he touched you, even in the simplest of ways.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into his lap and you straddled him daintily. Your thighs rested on his and you felt his hands move to cradle your round bottom. He shuffled the two of you back so he was resting against the bedpost. Your hands rested on his chest so that your fingertips fell into the dips of his collarbones.

He was only wearing boxers and you had to remind yourself to keep your eyes at his neck or above. The tiger on his left thigh was almost fully visible and you just wanted to trace it with your mouth. He kneaded your cheeks slightly and you jerked your body forward into him in response. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re very...responsive.”

“Harry,” you practically whimpered.

You knew where he was going and like you said, you wanted to go there with him, but you could feel your exhaustion wearing on you.

“Can we wait?” You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m so tired and I know that it wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us if I wasn’t fully into it.”

You took a hand and ran it through his locks, he sighed at your touch. He moved his hands up to your waist and rubbed up and down softly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just look at you and I just want to kiss every inch.”

You took one leg from around his waist so that the two of you could settle in for sleep.

“Same here,” you laughed quietly.

He gave you one last searing kiss before you fell asleep.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Tag list: @cronias13, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @harrys-cherrry, @mellamolayla, @chillingbythesea, @thatgirlwithcamera, @reidsmemory, @socialfake, @harrxier, @imagine-that-1975

#harry baby #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #i know you harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles is domestic #harry styles angst #absolute kissy

662 notes · View notes