#might try with blue jeans and silly earrings next time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hrina · 4 years ago

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Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #spookrry #harry writing #ok here it is 🙃 i lowkey feel like its gonna flop but w/e

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

Taglist is open for all characters

#dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #steve x reader #bucky x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #soulmate au

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oigimi · 3 years ago

Text

. owlet .

. mozart and baby oc . found family . 1.9k words .

here’s a found family fic that’s been in my head for awhile now! i really hope you like it. mozart seems like the kind of guy to have a daughter

A cry filled the mansion’s halls, piercing the ears of all who heard it. It was relatively late at night, and everyone was gathered at the front door, staring at quite the unusual package. Gifts and shipments would grace the mansion’s front doors often, but this… this was something entirely different. Rather than a case of Rouge or Blanc, or a bouquet of roses or anything in the ordinary, the residents of le Comte’s mansion stood in front of a baby girl in a basket, with a tag attached reading, “My name is Asuka. Please take care of me.”

“Asuka… Just like- Ah, never mind,” Sebastian started, waving his hand. He bent down to pick the screaming infant up, only to have her screech even louder, and swat her hands around in an angry little tornado.

“Sebas, you’re holding her wrong! You need to-” Arthur’s attempts at calming Asuka were even more fruitless, with her fighting to wriggle out of his arms. He passed her on to Theo, who scared her. She was given to Comte, then Leonardo, then eventually everyone in the room before being returned to her basket.

Vincent looked downwards, his mouth tugged downwards in a frown. “What do we do? I feel so bad for her, she won’t even stop crying. Poor little baby…”

“Broer, she tried to bite you!”

“She’s just little and scared! You were like that too once, Theo.”

As the younger brother clammed up, a final face showed itself that hadn’t been present before.

“What’s all this noise? Whatever you’re all doing, can you wrap it up soon? Or perhaps be a little quieter?” Mozart hissed, marching right up to his roommates and their new problem. He caught sight of Asuka and wrinkled his nose. “Arthur, did one of your little flings catch up with you?”

“No! She’s just a darling little thing that showed up on our porch and we simply can’t get her to stop crying. If you want to get her to be quiet, why not try and hold her?”

Mozart looked at the screeching infant, whose face was reaching a color as hot and fiery as her hair. “No,” he simply said. Babies were messy and loud and provided everything he didn’t want in his life. But, Arthur was right. If there was any way he could try and fix the problem, it was to try and hold this thing. Mozart took a deep breath and took the baby out from the basket, shaking his head and awkwardly cradling her in his arms. “There… there. I suppose.”

“You’re supposed to bounce her,” Vincent chuckled, guiding Mozart into rocking Asuka to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Just like that.” They looked down, and everyone’s faces melted into shock when Asuka finally stopped crying. Her big, glossy blue eyes were coated with tears, but she stared up in wonder at Mozart, or rather the feather in his jacket. She reached her tiny hand out to grab it.

“No. You’re just going to put it in your mouth and get sick.”

Asuka scrunched her face and pouted, reaching a little harder for the feather. She fussed, to which Mozart simply scoffed.

“No.”

“No!” she echoed, shaking her head. “No, no!”

“She’s already learning to speak like him,” Arthur snickered. “Oh, isn’t that just precious?”

Mozart glared at him as he tried to keep the baby away from his feather. He sat down on the couch, holding Asuka away from his body as if she carried a disease. “How long do I have to hold this thing?”

“Until she goes to sleep. Mozart, can’t you take care of this baby for just one night until we can figure out what to do with her?” Comte asked, tilting his head to the side. “It would mean you can get to your music faster, anyway.”

He looked at Asuka, who was still making fruitless attempts to obtain Mozart’s jacket feather, scowling in contempt at her. “Fine. But only for one night.”

“We all know how ‘just for tonight’ goes. You’ll be with her on her wedding day now!” Dazai mused, earning another deep scowl.

“I am not fathering this child.”

Asuka began to fuss, wriggling around and squirming in Mozart’s arms. He moved his arms so that she was gently pressed against him. “There… I suppose.” He swayed his body to the rhythm Vincent showed him, slowly patting her back. Before he knew it, she was yawning and her grabbing began to stop. “Hm. I’m putting her down to bed. Then I’m going back to my music.”

“Are you sure you should leave her alone? I think she’s gotten quite fond of you!” Arthur chuckled. “You might just wake her up if you leave.”

“Are you serious?” He groaned and looked down at the baby. “I guess I’m going to go to sleep too. The sooner I sleep the sooner time moves forward. Goodnight.”

Without another word, Mozart made a quick stop in the kitchen to warm up some milk. He swiped some chocolate, and glanced down at Asuka. She looked so… relaxed. So cute, even. Mozart couldn’t deny that he didn’t like babies, but the child he held in his arms felt a little different. He didn’t like her very much, but he couldn’t let anyone else take care of her. For some reason, it felt warm in his chest when she would only relax in his arms. As if he was meant to be her father in some way.

He grabbed a second, little cup with this in mind.

When he got to his room, Mozart made a tiny bed on the carpet with layers and layers of blankets and pillows, and laid Asuka down in it. She stirred, and made little cries in her sleep. Was she upset that Mozart had set her down? Could she even tell? It didn’t matter, he still felt a little bad for her. “We’ll get you a proper bed tomorrow. I couldn’t put you in a drawer or in your small basket,” he sighed. “You’re annoying and I don’t like you, but you’ll get a crib tomorrow. Goodnight, owlet.”

------

The next morning was full of diapers, crying, hissy fits, and screaming. Sebastian had run to pick up some basic supplies, but it ultimately did very little in the vampires’ battle against a fussy baby. She didn’t like peas, she didn’t like corn, and Vincent had to learn that babies can’t eat pancakes. What could she eat that would make her happy?

“Warm milk,” Mozart huffed, taking some off the stove. He poured some in the little cup he’d carried and let it cool off to a safe temperature. With some strict, yet gentle coercion, he managed to bring the cup to Asuka’s lips and help her drink as much as her tiny stomach could handle. “What was so hard? Babies like milk.” He grumbled a bit and cleaned out the cup. “Morons.”

“Well well well! You really are like a natural father to her!” Dazai chuckled. “What did we predict?”

“Nothing. I’m just not a fool,” Mozart snapped back, lifting Asuka out of the chair and burping her. “The plan today is to get some more supplies. But I am shopping for them.”

“Are you sure you do not want anyone to help carry anything?” Jean mumbled. “I can hold items at the store for you and help take them home.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Jean’s workplace ended up with a bit more than he expected, with a nice crib and mobile and a lot of bottles and sippy cups. The Frenchman blinked at the juxtaposition between the baby supplies and the items of war he sold in the shop. Mozart mentioned only taking care of Asuka for a few days. The abundance of furniture seemed like overkill.

At a nearby store, Mozart stood next to a stroller with his fussy responsibility inside. He scanned the shelves for toys, putting a set of blocks, paints, and a few stuffed animals inside. He stopped, however, when he laid eyes upon a stuffed snowy owl. “Just like Schelm…” he chuckled. He took the toy off the shelf and held it to Asuka. “Do you want an owl? An owl for the owlet?”

“Ow,” she replied, reaching out for the toy. “Ow!”

“Is that your way of saying ‘owl’? Alright, here you go. Be nice to it.” He paid for the toys and found himself looking in the stroller at the baby. She was cuddling her new toy and inspecting its wings and rubbing it, inspecting it for anything of interest. “It’s just a stuffed animal. Silly,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you home now. I have a feeling you’ll start screaming here in a moment.”

By the time night had arrived, the crib, bookshelf, mobile, and toys were all set up. Asuka was shaking a rattle on the floor when Mozart picked her up. “Alright, it’s time for bed. Come on.”

“Noooo!” she cried. “Nooooooo!”

“Yes. Come on.”

She fussed and began to cry, reaching down at the floor for her rattle.

“No rattles in bed,” Mozart huffed. “Here, I have something you can take in bed.” He reached down on the floor and handed her the stuffed owl. “Here. Your owl.”

“Ow.”

“That’s right. Your ow,” Mozart chuckled, setting Asuka down in the crib with her stuffed toy. “Goodnight, Asuka. You’re a silly little owlet who needs plenty of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he wound up a music box and turned off the lights.

------

“Papa, can I get the first slice?” Asuka asked, beaming wide at a large cake in the kitchen. “Better yet, I want the whole thing!”

“You can’t have the whole cake because you’ll get sick. You have my sweet tooth.” Mozart finished moving the cake to the table and sighed, “I can’t believe you’re sixteen years old now.”

“Old enough to get a boyfriend!”

“Let’s not go that far.”

“But you said when I turned sixteen I could!! Papa, you’re being unfair.”

Mozart chuckled and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Alright, go sit down at the table.”

She did as she was told and grinned, admiring all the presents everyone in the mansion had bought for her. From personalized books from Uncle Arthur to a paint set from Uncle Vincent to expensive clothes from rich Uncle Comte, Asuka was surrounded with so many luxuries given to her by the people who loved her. She was adopted into the greatest family she could imagine, and by the best father she could ever want. Sure, Asuka had a bit of an attitude sometimes, but she always knew when the important things needed to be said.

“I love you Papa,” she murmured, getting up and hugging Mozart. “Thanks for taking care of me, and thanks for all the birthday gifts.”

He smiled, embracing his daughter tightly in his arms. “I love you too. I love you so, so much, Asuka. You gave my life and music meaning like no other… Are you crying?”

“N-no! I don’t cry!”

“Okay.” He kissed his daughter’s forehead and sat down at the table. “No matter how old you get, whether you’re sixteen or sixty, you’ll always be my little owlet. I love you so much, and happy birthday.”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp scenarios #ikemen vampire mozart

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andwereallmadhere · 3 years ago

Text

You’re Not Alone | Jean x Reader

Paring: Jean x f!reader (slight Eren x reader mentioned)

Genre: FLUFF!, song fic

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/ Triggers: Alcohol, underage drinking

A/N: I was inspired by the Big Time Rush song You’re Not Alone (Link below). This is not the first thing I have written, but it is the first I am posting. Characters might be OOC but I feel like the overall feeling is there. I hope you enjoy!

Link to song: https://youtu.be/tbS5JF32szE

I bet you didn't notice First time your heart was broken You called me up and we talked til the morning

Jean is woken from his sleep by the harsh ringing of his phone. He fumbles for a minute trying to slide the little green button to answer the call. He puts the device up to his ear before stuffing his face back into the pillow, “Why are you call me it’s the middle of the night?” Sleep heavy in his gruff voice. He is quickly answered by your voice sobbing on the other end of the receiver. This immediately broke him out of his sleep-filled mind. He should have known when he saw your picture flash on the screen that you would only be calling if it was important.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He says wiping a guilty hand over his face. You didn’t respond. Still unable to form proper words through all the tears. He continues to quietly talk to you in an attempt to calm you down. Once the sobbing ebbs he finally asks, “Y/N, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He only hears you choke out a single word, “Eren.”

Jean and Eren never did get along, in however long you and Jaeger had been dating. But, as your best friend, Jean tried his best to accept him since that would make you happy. So hearing that HE is the reason you are crying at 2 A.M. enrages Jean.

“What did that bastard do? Did he try something you didn’t want? Do I need to beat him up? Y/N, I swear to god if he hurt you I will-“

“No Jean. It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?”

“He dumped me.”

“Y/N…”

“He just came by my house and told me that “I’m just over it I guess”. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“He’s a dick, I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

You only respond by sobbing more.

Eren had been your first real boyfriend. And as much as Jean didn’t want it to be true, you were head over heels. Everyone knew this would happen eventually, he just hoped there would be a little more warning. Maybe a fight or something but just cutting it off without a real reason? Jean had theories that he was probably hooking up with someone else and didn’t want the guilt of being a cheater, but you didn’t need to hear that right now. You didn’t need overprotective Jean hating on Eren. You needed best friend Jean to comfort you and assure you that you are worthy of love and everything is going to be okay.

“Hey, you can do better than him. He’s the real loser here. Any guy would be lucky to have you and the next one has to go through me first.” Jean says half meaning it, half attempting to make you laugh.

“Stop it, Jean, You know you’d lose every fight.” He can almost hear the smile in your voice, despite the tears that are certainly still running down your face.

“Why don’t I come get you? We can go for a drive or something.”

“Okay.” Your soft voice is followed by a sniffle.

“I’m on my way.”

Jean gets out of the warmth of his bed and finds his sweatpants. He throws on a hoodie and grabs an extra in case you forget to bring your own. It's pretty chilly out tonight. He grabs his keys and begins the drive to your house. Once he arrives he sees your form sitting on your porch. Always the gentleman, he walks over to you and offers to help you up. You grab his hand and he can still see the tear stains on your cheeks. Once you are on your feet he pulls you into a hug. “Hey,” Jean says returning your tight squeeze. “Let’s go get you some food.”

You don’t respond, but your grip around his waist losses and you begin making your way to the car. He opens the door for you and watches as you immediately grab the spare hoodie and slide it over your head. It’s obviously too big for you, but you are grateful for the extra fabric to bury your sad face in.

The ride is mostly silent, Jean wanted to give you room to talk if you wanted. After a bit of having his hoodie pulled up to your nose, it was clear that you were too caught up in your own drowning thoughts to say anything so he turned on a very soft playlist from his phone in hopes of providing you some distraction.

Jean stops the car and you see he has brought you to a Waffle House. He knows it your favorite. Sure the food isn’t great but there is something about the mediocracy of the establishment that gets you. “Come on slowpoke, I’m buyin’,” Jean says after opening your door. You give him a thank you before following him into the restaurant.

The two of you find a small booth, given that it was well into the night, there weren’t any people there other than the handful of employees. “You’ll have to talk to me eventually you know,” Jean says. You take a moment to look up from the menu he knows you have memorized by now. Just then a waitress comes by to take your order.

Jean already knows exactly what you want because you always get the same thing. Just as he tells the waitress your order you finally speak, “Hey Jean.” Your voice is slightly above a whisper, “can I have chocolate milk?” You look back down at the table while Jean turns back to the waitress, “And can the lady have a chocolate milk, please and thank you.” Jean smiles at you as the waitress walks away, your silly request signaling that his best friend is slowly but surely coming out of this shell of sadness.

Sure enough, you begin to open up. You tell him more of the details about Eren dumping you. Your food arrives and you laugh when Jean spills his glass of water on his lap. The two of you eventually move to the barstool countertops to talk to the fry cook, trying to convince him to make you a pancake instead of a waffle. Eventually Jean pays, leaving a generous tip as an apology for your late-night shenanigans.

Walking to the car you can see the pastel colors of the impending day reaching the sky. Not ready to go home yet you lean into Jean’s body, tugging on his arm, “Let’s go watch the sunrise!”

“You’re ridiculous.” He says shaking his head, “get in the car.” He smiles and opens your car door. Of course he was going to let you watch the sunrise. He is going to drive you to the park and find a place high up and the two of you will talk about nothing at all until you fall asleep in the passenger seat of his car. He is really just happy that the outing has worked. No, 4 A.M. waffles cannot cure your broken heart but it at least made you smile.

And the time that you were stranded I was there before you landed He was a no show, I made sure you got home

High school seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Graduation came and went and your family decided that you should spend the summer at your aunt’s house on the other side of the country. Of course, you loved your aunt and her kids, but spending your last real summer break away from your friends wasn’t a huge selling point. Ultimately, your mom said you had to go because the trip was already paid for and your aunt was expecting you. The only reason you eventually agreed was that the majority of your little group were all attending the same college, so at least it wasn’t goodbye.

The day before Freshman move-in everyone decided to throw a party at Eren and Mikasa’s house. Eren’s parents were out of town a lot so that is usually where the gang got together. Jean and Eren still don’t along great, but Jean was close to Sasha and Connie who happened to be okay friends with Armin and Mikasa, and thus your little group was formed for better or for worse. After the night Eren dumped you out of the blue, Jean was furious with him, only for you to accept Jaeger’s lame-ass apology and take him back a week later. Luckily there hadn’t been any more repeats of that night. Maybe Eren was telling the truth and did actually like you, so Jean played nice even if he didn’t fully forgive the brunette.

And now he was here, with you on FaceTime while you wait for your flight at the airport and Jean is getting ready for Eren’s dumb party that you won’t even make it to.

“So when does your flight get in?” Jean asks folding the remains of the load of laundry his mom did this morning.

“I think about 11 if it’s not delayed again. I’m super bummed that I won’t make it in time for the party.”

“It’s at Jaeger’s house, can’t he just bring you by after he picks you up?”

“I guess so, but he also said something about taking me home because it’ll be late and we have move in tomorrow.”

Jean hums in response. It is a valid argument logically, but none of them have seen you all summer except for the occasional FaceTime. The only real reason Jean was going to this stupid party was that you were supposed to be back in time. Jean can hear a voice come over the intercom in the airport. “Hey, Jean, that’s my flight. I gotta go.”

“Alright, Y/N, let me know when you land. See you soon.”

With that, the call ended. Your face replaced by a photo of you and Jean at prom making silly faces. Yeah, Eren was your date and Jean took Mikasa, but you all took photos together and his mom insisted on getting one of the two of you. It was obvious that the picture pissed Eren off, and that made it even more special to Jean.

Eventually, Jean finished the laundry and headed over to Eren’s. At least everyone else will be there and he can kick Connie’s ass at beer pong. Jean purposefully arrived a little late, so he knew everyone else would already be there, and sure enough, Eren had the white folding table already set up in the garage and Armin had started a little bonfire in the backyard. “Horseface You made it!” Connie says throwing an arm around Jean.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What are you going to do send Y/N after me? Oh wait…She’s not here!”

“We both know Y/N could easily kick your ass so shut up.”

Jean went around greeting everyone else and made good on his promise to dominate at beer pong. A while later he takes a seat next to Armin, who was currently roasting a marshmallow. “Ever put peanut butter on a s’more? Whole new experience.”

Armin looks over at Jean, “Y/N show you that?”

“Oh no, secret’s out,” Jean says taking a drink of water. After the game of beer pong, which was a little closer in score than Jean would have enjoyed, he decided to take it easy on the booze so he could actually drive home.

“When does her flight get in anyway?” Armin asks removing his marshmallow from the flame.

“She told me about 11 when we talked earlier. Said Eren was going to pick her up.”

At the mention of his name the two look over to see Eren taking a shot with Sasha and Connie. “Did anyone tell him that?” Armin says with a small chuckle.

Jean looked at his watch, it was only 9, if the bastard stop drinking now he might be sober enough to come get you. So Jean let it slide.

But Eren didn’t stop drinking. It was now 10:30 and Eren was plastered. Jean watches as Eren and Connie arm wrestle and sighs. What would Y/N think if she saw her boyfriend like this? “Shit,” Jean says standing from his chair around the fire. This gets the attention of Armin and Mikasa who were also over Eren’s drunk bullshit, “What is it?” Armin questions. “Y/N. Eren is supposed to pick her up from the airport in 30 minutes.”

“Well, that’s not happening!” Sasha laughs, also drunk.

Jean stood up and finished his soda before pulling his car keys from his pocket.

“And where are you going Horseface? Afraid you’ll lose in arm wrestling?” Eren suddenly joins the conversation. Jean cannot believe this asshole, he doesn’t even realize! Jean contemplates throwing a punch, but that will inevitably start a fight and the airport is almost 40 minutes away so he’ll already be late. So instead, Jean crushes the soda can in his hand and walks away. “Ha! Horseface is a scary cat!” Eren yells at his back before Mikasa smacks Eren on the head.

Jean’s anger melts through the drive. As upset as he is that Jaeger forgot, Jean is excited to see you. He’s not sure how he’s going to explain this one to you though. He parks his car and glances at the time, 11:15. At least you haven’t been waiting too long.

Luckily the airport is pretty small and there are only a few incoming flights so it’s not hard to figure out which gate your flight should have landed at. He thinks it's a little odd you haven’t texted him that you landed safely but he dismissed it as he made his way to the gate. Jean is surprised to find the gate empty. No hugging families or people searching for their luggage. There are a few scattered people here and there, also apparently picking up various passengers. After talking with another guy, Jean finds out that the flight had been delayed before take off so it is running late. You were not stranded at the airport, you hadn’t even landed.

Jean found a seat and began scrolling on his phone. He didn’t expect to have so much time so he didn’t really bring anything with him, not even headphones to listen to music. He sat waiting for what must have been a solid 30 minutes before he started to fall asleep in the chair.

“Jean!” He hears your voice call, this rouses him from the light sleep. Once he sees your face he can’t help but smile. He stands to walk over to you but is practically knocked over when you throw yourself into his arms. “Hey, stranger.” He says wrapping his arms around you.

“It feels like it has been forever!” You pull away from him and reach for your suitcase, but Jean beats you to it, grabbing the handle before you can. “I can carry it you know.” But you know it’s useless arguing. Mama Kirstein raised a gentleman, that’s for sure.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” You ask, giving him a side-eye as you follow him to his car. “Yeah…about that…” Jean still hasn’t figured out exactly what to say about why Eren ditched you.

“Eren drunk himself stupid, didn’t he?” You say, almost casually. Like you expected it all along.

“Yeah, but lucky for you I know a guy with a soft spot for you.” Jean places your things in the trunk before opening your car door.

“My shining stallion, always coming to my rescue.”

“Yeah, yeah, get in the car Princess.” He says. Eren’s stupid horse jokes have started rubbing off on you.

You spent the whole drive telling Jean about your trip, even though you talked with him almost every day you were gone. Jean in turn told you all the ridiculous things Sasha and Connie did while you were away. They still had group game night, which surprisingly Eren and Jean only tried to kill each other a handful of times. You laugh when Jean tells you the full story about Connie smashing Sasha’s face into a cake she brought one night, claiming “There is never a bad time for cake.” Sure they all sent you the pictures but you still loved hearing the story. And before you know it Jean pulled up in front of your house.

He carried your suitcase to the door and turned to you, “I’ll pick you up at 6 alright?” Right, Jean offered to drive you to orientation tomorrow and it was a four-hour drive to the University. With all the excitement of seeing your best friend, you forgot about college tomorrow. “Ugh so early? That’s like 4 hours from now”

“Unfortunately. Even then we’ll be cutting it close.”

“Fine. I’ll see you at 6.” You say giving him a final hug.

“Jean," you say into his chest, “I’m kind of glad it was you and not Eren that picked me up. I missed you. Thanks for always being there for me.”

“For you. Always.” Jean returns your hug before walking back to his car.

All the days that you were stressed out Feeling like pulling your hair out They were all missing but I was here listening

Freshman year came and went and now you were currently crying over your trigonometry textbook before your final tomorrow. Your other finals had gone pretty well and other than this stupid test you were finished with your first full year of university. Surprisingly Jean and Eren didn’t kill each other despite being suite mates. Originally the two were supposed to be roommates, but Armin quickly volunteered to switch with Jean, the blond being a little more equipped to handle Eren. You on the other hand shared a dorm with Sasha and Mikasa. Since it was the three of you you managed to snag a bigger room and didn’t have to share a bathroom with anyone else. When the gang got together for movie night it was usually in your room since the boys lived just down the hall. Overall it had been a pretty good year.

Everyone else had already finished their finals, the majority of your group moving back home on Wednesday, except Jean who had his last final today. Jean also offered to stay an extra day so you could drive home together, but he would never say that out loud. “I’m gonna use the extra time to relax since Jaeger is gone. Living with him for a year almost killed me!” He would claim, ever the dramatic. But you knew he was also staying for you since you didn’t have a car and he did a similar thing for winter break.

Trig had been your worst class all semester. No matter how many times you worked through the problems you were always getting a different answer, usually the wrong one. Armin helped you study for your midterm, but since he was already gone you were left alone. While your overall grade wasn’t bad considering you did all of the extra credit options your professor offered, this test could make or break your final GPA. If you could get at least an 85% it would bump your grade from a high C to a low B. So you have been doing nothing but math since your other finals finished this morning. And you were about to cry. Again. After completing the study guide and taking half a dozen practice tests you aren’t anywhere close to what you needed. After grading your last practice test, you barely managed an 80% and that was being nice to yourself.

“I’m never going to get this.” You sob, ink running from the tears now spilling onto your paper. Then there is a knock on the door.

“Who’s there?”

“The pizza guy?” Jean says from the other side of your door. At the mention of food, you realize you hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, which wasn’t saying much since you had a muffin and cup of coffee after Mikasa yelled at you for forgetting to eat earlier in the week. But you didn’t want Jean to see you struggling this much. Yeah, you could talk to him about anything but he was always so gifted when it came to school, even graduated top of the class in high school. So the idea of him seeing you brought to tears by something he saw as easy made your heartache. You were afraid he would accidentally make fun of you in that cocky way he does, or he would offer to help but realize you were a lost cause before ditching you altogether.

“Go away, Jean. I’m studying,” You yell back, attempting to hide the overwhelming stress from your voice.

“Well take a break, I wasn’t joking about the pizza. Mikasa told me you haven’t been eating so you better open this door, Y/N, before I resort to drastic measures.”

You give up getting him to go away, plus that pizza sounds so good. You get up and open the door, “And what would these ‘drastic measures’ be?”

“Sasha left her keys in our dorm, so I probably would have just walked in.” Jean finally takes a look at your face, and despite your efforts to wipe away your tears, Jean knows you’ve been crying.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? You-‘ You cut him off before he can finish. “What kind of pizza did you bring?”

“Your favorite, of course.” Jean sets the pizza on your bed while you grab some drinks out of the little micro-fridge. Jean glances at your desk and quickly takes in the scattered notes and tear-stained papers. Suddenly it makes sense. Your lack of eating, how you haven’t been responding to texts, and the tears when you opened the door. “I can help you you know? I took Trig last semester.”

“I told you not to worry about it.” You say attempting to be mad at him for snooping but it’s pointless. You take a seat on the bed and open the pizza box, “Horseface.” You add almost in a whisper.

Jean visibly shrivels at the name, “No. Not you. Not allowed.”

This small comment was enough to change the subject, and his mild anger at such a stupid name pulls an amused smile out of you. The two of you eat and converse as usual. He tells you about his last final and how Eren left their shared bathroom a mess that he needs to take care of before you leave tomorrow. You talk about how one of your professors just showed a movie during the final period since they are required to hold class despite not actually giving a test. And you feel the stress leave your body, even if just for a moment.

After a while, Jean looks back over at your desk before grabbing your textbook and the last practice test you took. “This isn’t bad, Y/N, looks like some simple mistakes that you keep making, fix those and you’ll be fine.”

“How can I fix something I don’t know I’m doing wrong?” You ask.

“Because I’m going to help you, idiot.”

Jean proceeds to walk you through your last practice test and showing you the mistakes he was talking about. After helping you do a few more problems, Mr. Kirstein makes you do another practice test that he’s going to grade. While you take the test Jean lays on your bed, scrolling through his phone. He’s trying not to look at you, not wanting to add more pressure to you by feeling watched.

After you are finished you pass him the paper and watch as he marks up the pages with a red pen. Eventually, he turns to you and gives you back the test, a solid 83%. Not as good as you hoped but you don’t want to discredit Jean’s tutoring. After walking through the test you look at the clock, it's currently 1 A.M.

“Well Y/N, your test is first thing in the morning and I don’t think stressing yourself out more is going to help you at all.”

“But what am I supposed to do? I need an 85!”

“You need sleep,” Jean says, packing up your study materials.

“One more practice test, then I sleep, I swear.’

“Sleep now. Maybe you can do another in the morning.”

There is no use in arguing with Jean, he always gets his way. Once the study materials were all put away Jean takes your laptop and opens up Netflix, knowing you won’t be able to sleep if you were still worked up. The two of you sit side by side on your bed watching some stupid movie until Jean notices your eyes have closed and your breathing has evened out. As quietly as possible Jean closes the laptop and climbs out of the bed. He puts a blanket over your sleeping form and turns off the light before closing the door to your room.

The next morning you wake up with a text from Jean. Opening your door you find a fresh coffee and a doughnut waiting on your doorstep. “That idiot.” You mumble to no one, but gratefully pick up the small meal he left for you. After eating you get ready to go and resign to looking over some notes before the exam. Once in the classroom, all the stress from last night comes crashing back. You just have to keep reminding yourself that a C in trig isn’t bad. Your GPA will still be above a 3.0, barely but still. And before you know it your teacher has told you to begin your exam so you log on to your computer and start your test.

The good thing about the test being on the computer is that you’ll know your results immediately. After going over the answers a second time you finally hit the submit button. You stare at the little blinking cursor as it checks through all your answers, holding your breath. Suddenly your final grade pops up on the screen and you can’t stop the tears that slip from your eyes. You gather your things and head back to your dorm. But you find Jean waiting outside the building, leaning against the car without a care in the world. “JEAN!” You practically scream upon seeing him. He can see the tears on your face, “It’s okay, Y/N. Trig is pointless anyway. You still did great even if you got a C.”

“I did it! Jean, I got a 90%!”

“That’s my girl!” Jean says giving you a high five.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, teach.” You say giving him a big grin.

“Come on, Y/N. I say we get you a celebratory milkshake before we drive home. Jean says opening the door for you. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the car to the driver’s side. You are lucky to have him in your life. Yeah, he can be kind of an ass from time to time, but his heart is always in the right place.

'Cause I'll be right there (right there) For every minute This time, it's no different Whatever happens you should know 'Cause you're not alone, girl Look over your shoulder You don't have to wonder 'Cause you know, you know, you know You're not alone, girl

#jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x you #jean kirstein x you #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #reader insert #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirstein fanfic

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starsstruck · 4 years ago

Text

cloudbusting; part three.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. bar run ins, shameless flirting, and paintings lessons at sunset.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexual content words: 12.6k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: i am very my excited to share this chapter, i hope everyone enjoys ! a big huge thank you to tina @sunflowers-styles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for helping me out and being the best ily💕💕

“I have two cold brews for here!” Calling out the easy order you just prepared, tight-lipped smile to the couple that picked up the drinks in front of them.

You had barely gotten much sleep the night before.

After your little breakdown, you ended up staying up late watching your favourite feel good TV show. And now you were working a long shift this Tuesday afternoon, annoyed by how busy it was, especially with the two deliveries that were bound to come any second.

Staying on bar to make drinks, not at all having the energy to stay at the register and talk to customer after customer.

Aleena understood more than most. She was happy to take till and let you be grumpy in the back, making drinks.

And it was the same thing the following day, except that you were working with Erinne and she was making you far too frustrated. She insisted on taking bar, and you had to run around her doing everything she was neglecting.

It was by the third day that week, that you finally got over your self-pity. Heading over to Mae’s and having a nice movie night with her.

As you often did after moments of indulgent crying, you recovered a few days later. A part of you knew that maybe in a few weeks or in a few months it would happen again, but that would be a problem for later.

But the week really turned around that Sunday night. After a week that lasted far too long, it ended with you sitting in a corner booth of a neighbouring bar with a wide grin spread across your face.

The weather was so lovely and the city so busy that the day had been nonstop. Working a long and tiring day, Aleena, Saya and you had all been eager to get a quick drink after locking up the shop.

The three of you always flowed well together, the two slightly older women being a blast to work with. A big reason why you always sneakily tried to scheduled the group together on weekends.

Now all seated with drinks in front of you, you were crushing the ice of your gin and tonic under your teeth that helped cool you down.

On top of a busy day it was so plainly hot out, and the heavy jeans you were wearing weren’t helping. You were happy to be sporting a short tank top, item that was previously under a light cardigan for the purpose of work.

Cardigan now in your purse, navy blue top being the only thing over your chest.

“Wait,” Aleena giggled, sipping on her mojito. “Did you hear what that guest said today?”

Chatting as you often did, sharing stories from shifts and odd complaints that you’d had from customers. “Which one?”

“Big group, the tall man with um,” Aleena paused, trying to remember. “Iced latte, no ice?”

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous order, knowing very well how this story was going to end. “Said it was too warm – but no ice! He wanted a cold drink but we have to put a hot espresso shot in it. He got mad when I tried to explain it to him.”

“When was this?” You furrowed your brow, usually aware of whatever ridiculous reason a customer got mad.

“I think you were on your break,” Aleena thought it over.

Saya nodded along, agreeing with what Aleena said. “Yeah you were in the back – but it was so ridiculous! Wanted a refund and everything, but never ended up taking it? Even when we offered to make him a new one, he refused? I can’t deal with that.”

You watched as the two of them got annoyed over the situation all over again, completely reasonable in their frustration. “And it was busy too, he was holding up the line.”

It was just then that you caught sight of a familiar mess of dark brown curly hair, sitting on the opposite side of the bar from you. You squinted your eyes slightly, not sure if it was who you thought it was.

But then he turned his head the slightest bit, and you could make out the outline of his sharp features. The line of his cheekbones and then the dimple of his cheeks, lips spread as he smiled.

Quickly averting your eyes away from him, nearly hating the way you felt your body heat up at the sight of Harry.

Focusing your attention back to your friends, taking a big gulp of your drink. Still, you were unable to help the way your eyes trailed over to him every once and a while. He was with a few other people, you couldn’t see how many. Seated around a table in the far left corner, almost directly across from you.

You had no idea if he had seen you or not. But when you walked over to get another round for your group, you got very conscious about how you stood even closer to him.

As you got drinks for your colleagues, your phone starting vibrating in your back pocket. Mae’s name was flashing across the screen, missing the first call when you brought Aleena and Saya their drinks, but with a second call coming that had you scurrying out the heavy door to answer the call.

“Hey,” quickly speaking once you were tucked away in a corner outside the bar. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mae’s laugh through the speaker calmed you down. “Yeah, sorry. I locked myself out of my apartment –”

She cut herself off. You were leaning back against the bricked wall, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

The loud chattering of a group walking past you overwhelmed your ears, and you were sure that Mae could hear them through the speaker.

“Are you out?”

“I’m just getting a drink – are you okay?”

“I locked myself out, really stupidly too. I was going to ask if you still had one of my spare keys but don’t worry! You’re out.”

“No Mae if you need me to –”

She cut you off. “Robin’s coming over, they have a spare key too. Don’t worry!”

You bit your bottom lip, stifling a laugh. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s such a nice night out, and Robin’ll be here soon. Have fun tonight!”

When she was reassuring you, your eyes flitted over to where a new person joined you outside. There were two groups of people standing together, sharing cigarettes and biding their goodbyes to each other. But as you glanced up at the new figure, your paused when Harry shot you a small smile.

Narrowing your eyes on him slightly, still on the phone with your friend. “Okay, well let me know when you get in. And really if you need me, I can be over with your key.”

Mae agreed that she would, and you were soon hanging up the call to glance back up at Harry who was lingering by you.

“Hi,” you finally spoke, feel heat rush to your face. You felt a bit sweaty, almost clammy in the warm summer night.

“Hi,” he breathed out, mirroring your words. He didn’t move from where he stood, watching as you walked over to stand next to him. “Thought I saw you earlier.”

“Yeah I’m with some people from work,” jutting your thumb out to point over you shoulder in the general direction of the door.

He nodded, glancing to where you pointed as if he could see through the wooden door. “Long day?”

“Very,” you sighed. “People are crazy.”

There was a slight pause, Harry shuffling on his feet while you stood straight, one hand tucked into your back pocket where you had just placed your phone.

“Were you heading home?” Asking after another few seconds, finding the silence heavy but neither of you moving away.

“No actually, not quite yet. I saw you head out – in fact I thought you were leaving. Just wanted to say hi,” he stumbled over his words slightly, eyes gleaming down on you in the dimly lit street.

“Just a phone call,” you broke out a small grin.

“Saw that,” he mirrored your expression, now that you were smiling at him. “I wanted to talk to you – I don’t know if I upset you or fucked up when I stayed past closing last time but I really didn’t mean –”

He cut himself off, and you couldn’t help but feel your smile grow at his words, watching his expression twist to confusion at your reaction.

“It’s really okay,” you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling up in your throat. “I’m not – never was – upset with you. Was just a bit of an off day, or couple days.”

Harry’s shoulder dropped, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Okay, I wasn’t sure if maybe you felt – well anyway. Sorry I haven’t been in to the café either, I was – well I was worried you were upset with me.”

Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, feeling blood rush to your neck when he apologized for not coming into your work all week.

“But, are you alright?”

You nodded, your little breakdown the previous week nearly laughable to you now. It might have been because of the drinks you had already had, but you found yourself especially now in a particularly good mood.

It wasn’t that you felt better about your situation by any means, it was more so that you had risen above your wallowing enough to be happy with what you were doing. Plus, it was healthy to have a nice big cry once and a while.

“Yeah, god it’s kind of silly. Just had a bit of a panic. You know how it is; was just too in my own head.”.

Harry’s smile was still wide on his lips but little furrow on his brow as he probably didn’t understand your ramble much less than you did. “Well,” he bit his lips together. “Hope your feeling better.”

You nodded, returning his smile as a small silence settled over the two of you. You were still tucked away in the corner, off the main part of the sidewalk with Harry a good arms length away.

Attention pulled away at the shriek of a laugh coming from a woman who was sharing a cigarette with a man nearby, Harry’s voice soon interrupting your brief distraction. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Gaze meeting Harry’s once again, not hesitating before answering. “Yes you can.”

Leading the way back to door of the bar, Harry holding it open as he walked in behind you. Your eyes drifted briefly to where Aleena and Saya were still siting, seeing them deep in conversation.

The bar currently wasn’t too full, some people seeming to have filtered out. Harry leaned forward, an elbow against the counter, looking back at you. “What did you want to get?”

“You choose,” you replied, seating yourself on an empty stool near where he stood. His mouth dropped as if to speak, but he quickly shut it with a curt nod and turned back towards the counter. He settled himself onto the stool next to you, knee bumping yours as his legs spread.

Getting the attention of one of the bartenders, telling them your drink orders. “Two whiskey sours, please,” he cast you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, before his attention turned back to the bartender who told him his total.

Reaching for his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and tapping his card on the terminal while the bartender prepared your drinks. “Did I choose well?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed. “I’ve never tried a whiskey sour.”

You leant your body closer to his, turning in your seat so that you were facing him. “It’s a bit bitter – if you like espresso I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Espresso is not supposed to be bitter,” you spoke without missing a beat. “Supposed to be balanced, and all that.”

“Yours is bitter sometimes.”

Your mouth dropped open. “It is not!”

“Sometimes,” he stressed, gleam in his eyes. “Don’t give me that. You’re still my favourite barista.”

“Good,” you muttered, small smile on the corner of your lips as his words rang through your head. The bartender placed two drinks in front of you, both quickly thanking them.

“Cheers,” tapping the tip of your glass with his. You both lifted the rims of you glasses to your mouths, Harry holding it there for a second as he watched you take a sip. The dark bitter liquor easily slid down your throat, and you kept your lips together as if that would hold in the taste.

He followed after you took your first sip, tongue darting out to quickly lick his lips before biting them down together. “So,” he spoke after a moment of watching you. “Did I choose well?”

“I think so,” you hummed after a second, going in for another sip.

Harry held onto his cup, busying his hands. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous with you all the sudden, as if he’d never been able to hold a conversation before. He was cautiously aware of the way his knee kept jutting out and hit yours, and the way that your hand brushed over his arm when you dropped your glass back on the counter.

“Did you need to head back to your table or …?”

He watched you turn your head, chin above your shoulder as you glanced behind your back. He followed your gaze, eyes focusing in the dim light to the table he had seen you at before. The two other baristas who you worked with were laughing.

“Don’t need to, no,” you hummed, facing forward again. “Think I’m good right here.”

His chest warmed at your voice. “What about you?” His eyes met yours when you spoke again. “You need to head back?”

Harry glanced back to the table he had been at, now filled with a new group of people. “My friends left already.”

You simply nodded once, taking another sip of your drink. Harry was worried about the silence in conversation, unsure of why he couldn’t think of anything to say to you –

“How’s your art going?”

Your words eased his nerves the slightest bit, blinking before he looked away from the glass in his hands and at you next to him. “Good –” he cleared his throat. “Good, yeah. Finally started working on something new.’’

“What is it?”

“It’s,” he brought his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s still in the works – I’m not too sure how its all going to turn out yet.”

You took another sip of your drink. “Is it what you’ve been working on when you come into the coffee shop?”

“Knew you’ve been spying over my shoulder,” he chuckled. “But yes. Like I told you last time – I like getting inspired by the space and all that.”

You weren’t sure if he was going to say more, watching as he brought his glass to his lips. “What about you? Ever do much painting, or anything of the sorts?”

“God no,” shaking your head, leaning your elbow against the bar. “I think last time I tried anything like that was years ago. I’m no good.”

He smiled, knee bumping yours. “Don’t have to be good to paint – it’s nice to just have fun with it.”

“That’s true,” you hummed. “Guess I never really thought about it; I clearly haven’t done it nearly enough.”

He glanced down for a beat. “If you want –we could paint together sometime.”

“Yeah?” You felt your chest heat up at his words. “That could be nice.”

His eyes settled on yours again, smile widening. “Glad to hear it.”

Swirling the liquid in your glass, before tipping your head back and taking a big sip. The affects of the liquor with the few drinks from before were slowly catching up to you – you weren’t drunk by any means but one might say you were starting to feel tipsy.

“I have a confession,” licking the liquor from your lips as you placed the glass back on the counter.

Harry leant forward on his elbow a bit, eyebrows rising slightly in curiosity. “Tell me.”

The corner of your lip grew as you felt yourself warm under his gaze. “I might have … already seen some of your work.”

“What?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly. His cheeks were rosy, and eyelids slightly heavy in a way that made you think he was probably a bit tipsy as well. “Where?”

“I – I happened to find your Instagram.”

His eyebrows rose even further, beaming smile on his lips. “You happened to find it? How exactly?”

“Not important,” you hummed, leaning your head on your hand as you tilted away from him.

“Okay,” he drew out the word. “And what did you think of what you found?”

Meeting his gaze again, turning in your seat so that your body was angled towards his again. “I liked it.” Answering simply.

“You liked it?”

You nodded, searching for the right words. “I don’t know a lot about art and all that. But I did like it, a lot. So colourful and just – well just nice.”

Mentally cringing to yourself at how poorly you had explained yourself. There was a smile on his lips as he listened to you, only glancing away to sip his drink.

“Thank you, really. Hope you’re not just saying that,” he teased.

“If I had hated it would’ve told you,” you deadpanned, smile in your eyes.

Harry laughed, head tilting back a bit. “Glad to hear it.”

Laughing lightly along with him, feeling the heat in your cheeks from the alcohol. “What about you?” Harry asked after a moment. “How’s the coffee game?”

“Oh,” you swung your foot from your stool. “Coffee game hasn’t changed.”

“You said you’d been working there for two years?”

You were surprised he remembered. “About two years there, yeah. But I’ve worked in a few other coffee shops as well, basically through most of university and since then as well. Ever since moving here I guess.”

“What did you study in college?”

“Poli sci,” you paused. “Not getting much use now.”

“That’s okay,” Harry shrugged. “No learning is really a waste, right?”

“Right,” nodding, realizing you were nearly done with your drink and not wanting to talk about college. “Can I ask you something?”

“Course,” he watched you.

“Who’s your favourite artist?”

Harry beamed. He didn’t answer right away, swirling his glass in his hand. “So I don’t have a single answer for you, tough to pick just one.”

You nodded, waiting for him to keep speaking.

“I really like the colours and the shapes of like, late impressionism. Like Matisse. But I also really like the theory, I guess, of mid 20th century artists. Identity of the self, ones around you – oh! Also Hopper – makes me a bit sad but in a good way, you know?”

You listened along, not having a clear mental image of everything he was talking about but liking to see how he talked about it. “I also really like Georgia O’Keeffe.”

That name you knew. “She did all those flower-vagina paintings, right?”

Harry chuckled; eyes cast down for a second. You were sure it must have been in the dim light of the bar, but you thought you saw the tips of his ears redden. “I mean, yes.”

“Again, I just really like the way she’s able to create her composition, the way everything is so layered and blended. Just – really nice form I guess.”

He fell quiet for another moment, and you weren’t sure if he was done speaking. “Sorry that didn’t make much sense; seem to not be able to explain myself very well right now.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shook your head, finishing off what was left of your drink. “I like hearing about it, I wish I knew more about art.”

“Never too late to learn,” he grinned. “Plus, you seem to run a pretty tight ship with those paintings that rotate throughout your shop.”

Unable to help the laugh that bubbled from your throat, head tilting back and eyes gently shutting.

“I told you,” jutting one of your legs out to lightly swat at his chin with your foot. Your leg lingered next to his, leaving your foot on the rest of his own stool instead of bringing it back to your own. Harry watched as you scooted forward on your stool slightly, elbow on the bar shifting as you as you edged closer to him. “I have nothing to do with that.”

He mirrored your laugh, eyes briefly glancing down to where your leg rested next to his, before back up at you. “I never heard from them, by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” you paused. “Maybe try again in a few weeks?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged, though he didn’t appear that torn up about it. “Did you want another?”

Your gaze fell down to where his ring covered finger was pointing at your now empty glass. You quickly thought it over, knowing that one more drink would be fine as you weren’t feeling the liquor too too much. “Are you having another one?”

“I could,” Harry grinned, empty glass in front of him as well.

You slowly nodded. “Okay – let me get this one though.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s no worries, really. You can get it next time.”

You bit your lips together at the suggestion, unable to help the small curve in your lips. “Okay,” slowly speaking with a nod to your head. “Next time you come into the coffee shop I promise its on the house.”

Your feet fell flat on the floor of the bar, standing up. “I’m just going to head to the restroom,” you hummed, taking a step forward and letting your hand fall onto Harry’s shoulder for a light moment. “You can choose again.”

Harry’s eyes were stuck on you as you sauntered off, hands sliding in your back pockets with your elbows jutting out, the same way you did when you walked around the café.

You checked your appearance in the dimly light washroom, using toilet paper to blot at your sweaty skin. The bar was hot and humid, and you felt particularly oily after a long shift.

After leaving the restroom, you walked up to where Aleena and Saya still sat, small wave in their direction.

“What happened to you?” Aleena laughed, knowing very well she had seen you at the bar.

“Ran into someone,” you replied, shooting a quick glance to where Harry sat.

“Isn’t he a regular?” Saya followed your gaze, before turning to you with a little smirk. “Espresso over ice, right?”

You didn’t say anything, sure your expression gave it all away. “Sorry to have left you guys,” you said instead, feeling a bit guilty but knowing very well they didn’t mind too much.

“No, no it’s okay,” Aleena was sliding out of her chair, rising to her feet. “We were about to leave soon. You stay, have fun.”

You grabbed your purse that was still sitting with them, happy to have remembered that you had left it there.

“You’re both off tomorrow, yeah?” You already knew the answer, always good at remembering who was working when, especially since you made the schedule.

They both confirmed what you already knew, grabbing their things as they walked with you away from their table and towards the exit.

“I’ll see the two of you in a few days then! Have a good time off.”

After biding goodnight to your colleagues, walking over with purse in hand to go join Harry once more. “Sorry about that,” you hummed, sliding back into your seat next to him. “Just saying goodbye to my friends.”

“No worries at all,” his eyes fell to yours once you were seated. You didn’t miss how his stool seemed to be much closer to yours this time, legs resting inches apart.

“Got you a long island – figured you’d like it since I see you drinking so much iced tea.”

Again a bit impressed that he remembered, you were very much appreciating a long island ice tea. Taking a big gulp, letting the slightly sweet liquid easily slide down your throat.

Conversation fell easily between the pair of you, inching closer to each other all over again. Talking to Harry was so easy – and every time he sent you that dimpled grin you felt your head spin.

Your skin was sticky from the hot night, and you found yourself wishing you could be wearing a dress or shorts or anything but the thick jeans you had on from work. Also, as Harry’s knee bumped yours for the thousandth time under the bar, this time resting against yours instead of moving back, you found yourself wishing there were less layers between your skin.

You soon found yourself with a glass half empty, leaning forward with your head resting on your hand and elbow just against Harry’s arm on the bar.

“Hope I haven’t been keeping you,” Harry murmured, gaze heavy on yours.

“Haven’t,” shaking your head. You had no idea what time it was but the fact that the bar had significantly emptied clued you in enough. “Though I do think I should be heading home soon.”

His hand fell to his lap, sliding it over his leg and closer to where yours rested against it. “Let me walk you.” He squeezed your knee.

You cast your eyes down, quick glance to where his hand rested on your leg. “That would be nice.”

His touch lingered on you before pulling away. You saw his eyes fall over your face when you stood from the stool and reached for your bag that hung hooked under the bar. Grabbing your phone from your back pocket, quickly checking the time. It was nearing one in the morning – you were surprised by how much time had gone by.

You felt woozy – your lips bit between your teeth and hair sticking to your skin. Harry had gotten much closer to you through the night, and you him, and all you could think about right now would be what it would feel like to finally have him properly hold you.

Harry stood to his feet next to you, hand reaching out towards you as if to rest on your back, but seemed to decide against it. Still, he hovered close behind you as you headed out toward the door.

Swinging your bag over your shoulder, walking through the thick wooden door into the cooler night air. Harry quickly joined your side, lazy grin on his lips. “Are you cold?”

“No,” shaking your head, you watched as he neared you and stopped when he stood by your side.

“You’ve got goosebumps,” Harry’s voice had dropped, as he brought a hand to trail up your arm, letting it rest lightly on your shoulder. His hand was warm and heavy on your skin – if you didn’t have goosebumps before you were sure to now.

“Oh,” it was all you could manage to say.

You were unmoving on the mostly empty sidewalk, a bit tucked away in the corner by the same place you took your call earlier that night. His hand slid on your skin, feet moving on the pavement so that he stood closer to you – close enough that you could smell the liquor on his lips and something else, maybe it was his cologne or his detergent or just something that was making your head spin.

“Did I tell you how good you look tonight?” He murmured, like honey in your ear.

All you could manage was a small shake of your head.

“You look so good tonight,” his voice somehow even lower, breath hitting your skin. His hand slid across your shoulder, resting at the crook of your neck with his thumb brushing over the skin under your jaw.

Every one of your nerves was on fire – your senses overwhelmed with the man in front of you.

“I’m wearing my work clothes,” your eyes narrowed on his slightly, feeling his other hand grip at where your jeans ended and a small sliver of exposed skin rested. His fingers hooked through one of your belt loops, tugging you gently against him.

“You look good at work too,” he breathed.

You saw him unashamedly staring at your lips, eyes cast down as his fingers gave your hip a small squeeze.

And then your back was arching in his grip, hand sliding to grab at the neckline of his shirt. A quiet short gasp was sound from your parted lips when your mouths finally met.

Harry’s lips were soft and firm, drawing you in closer as they slotted on yours. Hand wrapping around the back of your neck, the thumb under your jaw was pushing your head to tilt towards his. His other hand was toying with the flap of the pocket on your jeans, tugging on the material as his legs bumped with yours.

His lips nudging yours, mouth parting slightly. Your free hand mirrored the other, gripping onto his shoulder to wrap him closer to you. He pulled you in deeper, tongue brushing yours. He tasted slightly bitter like the liquor you had drank, and like bittersweet chocolate – he tasted like a perfect balance.

Feeling your stomach flutter when Harry let out a shaky breath against you, pulling away for a brief second with a small bite to your bottom lip. Peeking your eyes open, seeing his darkened eyes opened as well. His pupils were slightly blown, cheeks reddened and lips kissed raspberry red.

Your name was a whisper on his lips, before he was pulling you in for more. His hand left your hip for a brief moment, walking you backwards until his hand met the wall and he pressed you against it. Your mouths were greedy, wet and hot.

You passed a little whine from your mouth to his, his chest covering yours as his hand slid around the exposed skin at your midriff. He had your body pinned with his, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting into the wall with the way he felt against you.

“I think –” you mumbled after a moment of heavy breaths. “I should head home.”

Harry pressed another kiss to your mouth, lips smacking together. “Yeah – okay,” he pulled only his head away, dipping down for a second with his forehead against your cheek. “I’ll walk you.”

He pulled away, slowly, from you. Hand sliding down your arm until his finger tips toyed with yours, tugging you away from the wall with him.

When you started the walk, it oddly felt like something so natural. Like you did this all the time, side by side. His arm kept brushing yours as he kept close to you, hand dancing with yours but never quite grabbing it.

The bar was both close to your work and your place. An easy fifteen minutes before you were slowing down in front of the steps that led to the door of your apartment.

Pointing up at the building, stopping in the street and turning to Harry. “I’m just up here.”

He finally grabbed your hand. Pulling you in close to him, heavy eyelids trained on you. “Happy I ran into you tonight,” he hummed, bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

You nodded. “I open tomorrow.”

“Open?” His eyes widened, voice rising. “Fuck I’m sorry –”

“Not your fault,” you laughed, cutting him off. “I wanted to stay.”

He was quiet for a second. “Don’t you have to be up in like, five hours?”

“Something like that,” you pressed your hand to his chest, just as you had when you kissed him. “So I’m going to head up.”

Leaning forward, bypassing his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you.”

You didn’t get much sleep, but this time it was okay. You weren’t in a bad mood, and your opening shift went off without a hitch.

Happy when Dani shuffled in, your first customer of the day. You handed him his crossword puzzle and hopped on making his drink, hands working on autopilot.

“Late night?” Dani asked, when you brought him his coffee with a stifled yawn.

“Something like that,” you hummed, placing his drink on the table in front of him, and taking a moment to sit across from Dani and sip on your own.

Another early morning face you saw that Monday, a surprise to you considering it was just past seven, was Harry.

He had his squared sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, hair tousled as if he had woken up and let if fall wherever it pleased; a look you found yourself very much enjoying.

He had on small black running shorts and a grey shirt, an outfit you could only describe as athleisure. It was for sure an outfit that you had never seen on him, one you didn’t even imagine possible, but one you quickly grew a liking to.

He walked over to the counter, eyes flitting over to where you were sitting with Dani.

“Someone’s trying to take your attention away from me,” Dani laughed, head nodding Harry, seeing him patiently waiting for you with a small smile on his lips.

“The nerve,” you joked, knowing very well that Harry could hear you in the almost empty café.

Slowly rising back up to your feet, making the short distance across the floor until you were facing Harry form the other side of the counter.

Giving him a wide smile, tilting your head to the side. “You’re here early.”

“Going for a run,” he motioned to his outfit. “Needed a little coffee first, I didn’t get much sleep last night to be completely honest.”

You bit your lips together. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I would’ve brought you a coffee but …” he trailed off, motioning to the espresso machine that sat on the opposite side of the counter. “That didn’t make much sense.”

You laughed lightly, eyeing your mug that was still sitting on the table in front of Dani.

Harry continued. “I also seem to remember you saying something about a coffee on the house?”

Your eyebrows rose. “Oh, so is that the only reason you came in?”

“Helps, doesn’t it?”

“Well if that’s the case,” you laughed, waving to the machine that sat a few feet away. “What can I get for you?”

“You choose for me.” He grinned, repeating your words from the night before at the bar.

Bottom lip lodged between your teeth, you weighed your options. You scooped some ice into a to go cup, before pouring in some cold brew that you had brewing previous day.

“This is one of my favourite roasts,” you hummed, sliding the cup over to him.

Harry grabbed the cup form the counter, piercing a blue paper straw through the lid. “I trust your judgment,” he nodded, lips circling around the straw with his eyes on yours. You watched as he swallowed the chilled liquid, toothy grin on his lips. “Fruity.”

“Very fruity.” You confirmed.

Harry was quiet for a moment, before speaking up again. “I should get running,” Harry took another sip of his cold brew. “But I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Is that a threat?” You joked after his emphasis on the words.

“It’s a promise.” You didn’t know if it was imagined because he was turning away, but you were sure you saw him shoot you a cheesy little wink.

He waved bye to you, waving to Dani as well who seemed confused by the action but still returned the goodbye.

And true to his words, Harry was back two days later.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and he came in wearing brown trousers and a white shirt that had the word ‘sex’ on it. It was odd, and you briefly wondered what possessed him to buy the shirt, but you didn’t question it.

He waved hello to Aleena who was training a new staff member and walked up to where you stood by the furthest counter near the back door, currently slicing up a loaf of banana bread. “Hey!”

“Hi,” he stood opposite side of the counter as you, watching you place your knife down and grab plastic wrap to secure the sliced pieces.

“What brings you in today?” You asked, as if there wasn’t an obvious answer.

“Many reasons, actually.” He raised an eyebrow. “Main one being I wanted to ask you something.”

Your smile grew. “And what is that?”

“Well I remember you saying something about wanting to try out painting with me sometime.”

“I think I did say something like that. Why?” You teased, leaning forward on the counter in front of you with your arms crossed over your chest.

His hands were fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Well –” he cleared his throat, “do you think that sometime could be soon?”

“Yeah? Like when?”

“Are you closing today?”

“Nope, actually I’m off at six,” you glanced at the clock. “A bit of a different shift since we’re training,” nodding your head back to the new staff member that was watching Aleena steam milk. “Good for me, since I don’t need to close.”

“And…” he paused. “Are you doing anything afterwards?”

You mulled it over, already knowing your answer but wanting to leave him hanging the slightest bit.

“I am not,” you finally spoke, smiling lightly. “I think I can make it work.”

Harry smile widened, tapping his hands on the counter. “Music to my ears.”

He glanced at the clock behind him, seeing there was about half an hour or so until you were free from work. “Did you need to go home first? I was thinking we could walk right over to my place when you’re off.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. “To change? My clothes are a bit covered in grounds.”

Wiping your hand over your front, flicking off the stray coffee grounds that always ended up on your clothes, today’s victim being a loose denim dress that hit the spot below your knees.

Following as Harry’s eyes fell over your outfit, lingering on your body for a slight moment. You couldn’t help but warm slightly under his gaze.

“Whatever you’re comfortable in,” he shrugged. “But for the record, I think you look great.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Think I should be good, though, to head over. Did you want a drink, while you wait?”

He nodded, dimples never disappearing from his cheeks as he didn’t cease smiling. “Maybe an iced tea?”

You saw him reach for his wallet, and you shook your head. “On the house, remember?”

Making him an iced tea with no sweetener since you didn’t take him as the type to want any, handing him the glass with a green paper straw. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

The next thirty minutes went by fairly quickly, showing the new hire, Andy, the first steps of a closing shift. It was at two minutes until six o’clock, when you headed to the washroom in the back.

Hand over your hair to fix it up, and swiping the skin under your eyes to wipe off the mascara that was a bit smudged.

Glancing down at your jean overall dress, the thin straps dipping a bit low. Other than that little detail, you didn’t think that the loose fabric that hit below your knees was that attractive. It was comfortable, to say the least, but it wouldn’t be something you wore on a date – or what you assumed might be a date.

But Harry’s words from before floated across your mind, and you told yourself that it was fine that you didn’t look the best you possibly could. You were just nervous.

Harry noticed you walking out form the back right away, standing to his feet to join you. You yelled a bye to Aleena, no missing the way she waggled her eyebrows at you and Harry.

He didn’t live that far away from the coffee shop – something that was no surprise to you. The walk was just over twenty minutes and a few stories up in the older looking apartment building.

He held the door open for you, as you took in his place. You always loved seeing people’s places, especially those of people closest to you. You may or may not have been caught snooping a few times in cabinets, something that you wished you had some shame in but really you were just a bit nosy.

He had wide windows on one side, something that you thought was supremely ideal and incredibly stunning, you believed that when the sunsets occurred the whole room must shine a hue of orange. Near the window were stacks and stacks of canvases, leaning against the wall, with an easel standing on the ground amongst smaller nearly blank canvases resting on it.

There was a little table with a jar that had brushes, two sketchbooks, and a canvas bag. He had a box that appeared to be filled with tubes of paint, and a table lined with item after item where you couldn’t even begin to think about what their purpose could be.

Underneath a corner in his studio, was brown paper spread over the floor, no doubt to protect it from all the splatter.

“This is a nice place,” you finally spoke after a moment of kicking off your shoes and peering around the space.

“Yeah, I really lucked out,” Harry placed his bag on the chair by the door. “Do you want me to show you around or…?”

You pointed to where the paintings were stacked, already catching a glance at some. “I want to see those.”

He chuckled, walking over as you followed. He began flipping through them, once and a while stopping to pull one out. They were all around the same size, quite big, and about the size of an average coffee table.

“These are my favourites,” he watched you as your eyes rested on the paintings that were now fully facing you, propped up against the wall.

You had to agree with him, although you hadn’t seen all of them. They looked even better in person, leaving you a bit lost for words as you felt a bit dumbfounded. They all had big patches of colours, something you recognized from when you took a peek at his Instagram.

Your favourite one had what appeared to be two people in it, both standing on opposite sides of the street. The buildings in the back were painted mixes of blue and green, the sky dark behind them. The people themselves had little detail, faces hidden with the most focus on their clothes.

Realizing you had been quiet for a moment, you turned to Harry, who was steadily watching you. “They are much better in person,” was all you could find yourself saying. “I – I really like them.”

Harry had a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you,” he hummed, nodding appreciatively.

“Is that what you’re working on now?” Pointing behind him, to where he had what seemed to be yet another black sketchbook out on the floor with a few almost blank canvas around it.

“Yeah,” Harry hesitated, not moving. “But too much of a work in progress – not ready to be seen by anyone yet.”

“Of course,” nodding, as a quick movement near the ground caught your eye. Realizing the sight before you, mouth dropping open a bit.

“And who is this,” your voice rose an octave, dropping down to rest your elbows against your knees.

A small calico was padding across the floor, deep brown eyes focused on you as it tentatively made its way towards your extended hand. The cat nudged your hand with its nose, before taking a few steps closer to you and letting you scratch the top of its head. “Aren’t you the cutest.”

“She’s very needy,” Harry stood next to you, watching as you got acquainted with his housemate.

She moved closer to you, butting her head against your shin. She had very quickly gotten familiar with you, eyes shutting with small purrs coming from deep in her throat as your nails scratched over her neck.

Turning your attention to Harry for only a second, glancing up at him from where you were kneeling. “What’s her name?”

He grinned down at you. “Cherry.”

“Cherry,” you cooed, full attention back on the calico by your feet. “Oh, you’re so full of love.” Speaking to the cat, letting her rub her head onto your arm.

Realizing after a moment that you were getting far too distracted by the cat, giving her one last ear rub before standing to your feet. “Sorry,” you smiled. “I think I love her.”

“Don’t apologize,” he chuckled, bending down himself as she was finally saying hello to him. “She loves a cuddle.”

He easily scooped her up, bringing her up until she was held against his chest. His hand easily covered her, fingers moving through her fur.

There was something about seeing Harry’s wide chest with a little cat against it. Something you had never thought would make him that much more attractive. It was just the juxtaposition, his hands grabbing her entire frame, making her appear much smaller and him that much broader.

“What?” Harry’s laugh cut through your thoughts, making you realize you had been quiet for a moment too long.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, taking a step forward and brought your hand up to the little cat’s head. “She’s just too cute,” scratching your fingertips along her head once again, nails scratching over Harry's shirt-covered chest every so often.

When Cherry started to squirm in his grasp, he lowered himself slightly, letting her jump from his arms and skillfully onto the ground.

“Did you want anything to drink, or eat?”

Shaking your head, thinking about the coffee after coffee that you pounded back at work, and the bits and pieces of baked goods that you snuck for yourself. “I’m good, thank you though.”

“Want to get to some painting, then?”

Smiling over at him, not missing the way that the little calico was still demanding your attention by your legs. “I would love to.”

Harry shuffled some things around, seeming to pull out a second smaller easel from a closet to the corner, fumbling around with the clasps and settings on it until it was resting upwards, closer to the ground. You watched, not really knowing what to do, as he did the same with the other easel, moving it on the ground as they sat next to each other.

“Thought we could sit on the floor –” he turned back to face you, loose curls falling over his forehead. “If you want to stand that’s okay too.”

“Floor’s good,” you grinned, taking a step over to where he was setting everything up. He was digging through a box on the table, pulling out some paint tubes and brushes.

“Thinking we could use acrylic,” he talked, and you weren’t too sure what he meant so you simply nodded. “I usually do oil but it’s a bit tougher to handle, especially if you’ve never used it before.”

“Okay,” the word sounded so small in answer, you wished you had more to add but in all honesty you never thought much about the different types of paints.

“For you,” Harry stood again after laying out a series of tubes on the floor next to the easels, motioning to the spot. “Let me know if you want a pillow or something, or if the ground is uncomfortable.”

“Should be okay,” you stepped over onto the brown paper covering the floor, noticing specks of dried paint already splattered over it. You adjusted the hem of your dress when you sat down, small bend in your knees and your feet flat on the ground.

Harry left for a second, rusting in the closet to the side once more before he came back with two smaller canvases. “Primed and everything,” he placed one in front of you, and for him as he settled down on the floor next to you.

“Thank you,” smiling over at him, not touching anything he put out and keeping your hands clasped together.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, handing you a small flat brush. “Use whichever colours you want,” he spoke slowly, motioning to the tubes next to you. “A palette out for you and water is in this jar.”

Nodding again, flipping the brush between your index and middle finger on instinct. “What should I paint?”

Harry laughed. “Absolutely anything you want,” he opened a tube of yellow, squirting some out on his own palette in his hand. “Whatever comes to mind.”

“What are you going to paint?”

You saw his bottom lip jut out slightly, thinking back to when he had kissed you a couple nights ago and how that lip was between your teeth. “No fun in telling you right away, you’re just going to have to wait and see.”

Laughing lightly, you decided to grab the first colour that came to mind: blue.

You didn’t really have anything in mind, thinking that maybe you should listen to Harry and just follow whatever you felt.

Harry started right away, easily mixing a deep yellow and crimson on his canvas that turned into an orange that was nearly too bright. He wasn’t paying much attention, though, watching you from the corner of his eye.

You had your head tilted down, arms resting on your knees with one hand perched down, mixing some blue on the palette. With your bottom lip between your teeth, and a little furrow to your brow, you grabbed some yellow, and then some more blue.

You were swirling the colours together, resulting in a brighter blue, and you brought the brush up to the canvas. He saw you hesitate again, tip of the brush not making contact with the white canvas.

“Don’t think too much about it, love.”

The pet name slipped past his lips easily, not even thinking about it. Your attention turned to him as he spoke, and he didn’t miss the way that the corner of your lips turned up, before you bit said lips together.

“Okay,” the word was a quiet murmur, as your attention was back on the canvas, you painted a thick blue line right on the left side.

After that, you seemed to ease up a little, mixing various hues of blue, not really having a plan as you painted them over and next to each other. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you were enjoying yourself.

It was therapeutic, the way that the thick paint smoothed over the canvas in the same way that an espresso shot poured so fluidly into a mug.

You were catching quick glances at what Harry was doing every once and awhile, seeing him add blue shapes on the opposite side to where the orange was.

It was like that for a bit, and you didn’t know how long. A nice calm atmosphere around the both of you, with small snippets of conversation here and there.

Your painting wasn’t advancing that much, but you seemed to have some big aspects going on. A dark, maybe angry, blue on the bottom of the canvas, and a light and deep toned one on the top.

As you kept glancing over to Harry, you realized that he was painting two sets of hands, nearly grasping each other but not quite yet. You were quietly amazed by his skill.

After another period in silence, with the only noise coming from outside as the window above your head was propped open, you felt Harry start to shift from next to you. First, he stretched out his legs, and then his arms.

And then you heard the paper under you rustle, Harry moving to his knees as he shuffled closer to you. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, trying not to pause in your movements to avoid showing that you were paying any attention to him.

Feeling his presence linger, you finally cast him a glance over your shoulder. Still not speaking as you silently held his gaze, watching his eyes stop over your lips for a moment before looking past at the canvas in front of you.

“Can I –” he leaned in closer to you. “Show you a few techniques?” His voice was smooth in your ear, not really asking a question as the shirt over his chest brushed your back.

You simply nodded, mind reeling a bit as his lips lingered near your ear.

It was then when he lowered himself from his knees, seating himself behind you. Your movements froze, not fully able to see him as you sat still, and faced forward. His legs widened a bit as he sat back, slowly unfolding one at a time and placed his feet on the ground, bent at the knees and loosely casing you in.

Your skin jumped under his touch when a hand was wrapping over yours, leaning his body in even closer so that his chest was fully pressed against your back. You could feel the small puffs of air leave his nose that hit the top of your shoulder.

He guided your hand down to dip the tip of the brush into the mixed paint by your side, moving both of your limbs together. “Just like,” his voice was deep and quiet in your ear, moving your hands back up near the canvas. “Just like this.”

You didn’t dare look back at him – knowing that one glance would have you gone. You were sure his eyes were glowing and that he had that dumb little smirk on his lips; his lips that were oh so pink and slightly wet from how much he bit them.

Just the feeling of him gently pressed against you, chest digging into your back slightly deeper every time he moved your arms together, was making your head spin. You could barely pay attention to what he was doing to the canvas, solely focused on the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Just like that,” he murmured deep in your ear, bit of stubble scratching your skin when his chin moved forward to rest on top of your shoulder.

Nearly dropping the paintbrush when his hand let go of yours, catching it in an awkward manner. He slipped his hand away, sliding it up your forearm until it rested lightly over your elbow. His other hand was still resting by his side on the ground, and all you wanted was for his arms to squeeze around you while his thighs did the same.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, forcing your attention back to the splotch of colours that stood in front of you on the canvas. You were painting continuous little blue lines along the right side, layering the slightly different shades.

It was when you had started to focus a bit more on the darker colour you were mixing, that Harry’s chin moved from your shoulder. Instead, you felt his nose brush over the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine which you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Though you know he did. And when he placed his lips on your skin and whispered ‘just like that’ one more time, you became putty under him.

You tried not to appear affected by him, you really did, but you also didn’t know how it could be physically possible to focus on anything other than him at the moment. The brush stilled in your hands, arm resting exactly where it was and halting in all movements.

His lips were moving down the nape of your neck, small barely-there kisses that were like whispers over your skin. The hand on your elbow slipped under your arm, gripping your waist with his fingers bunching into the baggy material of your dress.

A whisper of your name onto your skin was all it took. Your eyes pulled away from the mess of blue on the canvas, having to lean away from Harry to properly gaze over your shoulder at him.

Eyes heavy on yours, gaze sharing unspoken words. You watched his eyes drop down without a shame to stare at your mouth, dilated pupils tracing the soft curve of your lips. You couldn’t help but wet them under his intense stare.

The sight of him blurred as he neared you until your eyes shut and his lips covered yours.

Your neck was tensing from the uncomfortable position, tilting around your shoulder, but when you tasted Harry again you didn’t care.

His mouth took your bottom lip between his teeth, grazing over it before releasing it and he craned his neck further around your shoulder to properly kiss you. His hand grabbed onto your dress, holding the fabric tighter in his grip.

Kissing Harry again felt even better than the last time. Even in the nearly painful position, you wanted to pull him in closer and deeper and not be able to know where you ended and he started.

He was warm and bright just like the hot August evening, beaming like the sun through the window. He drew you in closer and made you feel so at peace – at this moment you couldn’t remember ever feeling stressed.

A gasp escaped from the back of your throat, Harry’s mouth moving over yours in slow and deep movements. Like last time, he eased his way into your mouth slowly, savouring your taste. Tasting like coffee, and something sweet he couldn’t get enough of.

Legs that rested by your sides closed in on you a bit, squeezing your hips when he turned in to try and rest even closer to you. The position was awkward, the brush still half hanging in your hand, while your other hand moved around behind you to lace through Harry’s hair.

He was kissing you deeply, tongue delving in against yours. Although you were in close proximity with his front pressed against your back, you wanted to be closer. You wanted to be on top of him, or vice versa, you wanted to be able to feel his weight against you.

As if reading your mind, Harry parted your lips with a light pant, eyes fluttering open as he licked over his moistened lips. Slowly releasing you from his grip without a word, scooting back a bit until not a single sliver of skin was touching yours anymore. You felt him grip the paintbrush from your hand, leaning across the floor to place it in the little jar of water he had set out.

“Turn around for me, love.”

Skin warming at the tone of his voice and the words he was saying. You decided he could’ve told you anything in that voice and you’d easily listen.

You shifted forward a bit awkwardly, with your hands on the ground beneath you to hold you in place as you moved around on your bum until you were facing him.

He looked stunning in the warm glow of the sunset, orange beams pushing through the window and kissed the tip of his cheek. His hair was a bit tousled from your hand that had run through it, eyes dark and intent on yours and lips begging for more.

He sat an arm length away, raising his right hand as if to cup your face but he let it hover by your side. Your skin burned to feel his touch on you. “I’ve got paint on my hands,” he murmured, eyes glancing down. “Already got some on you.”

“I don’t care,” your own hand reached out for him. Curving it around his neck, pulling him closer to you until your lips were once again connected.

Harry shifted closer to you, hand resting by the crook of your neck while the other was placed on your knee. Wet lips were greedy for each other, licking deep into your mouth as he let out a shaky breath through his nose.

The hand on your knee squeezed it, thumb brushing circles onto the skin. His touch was sending sparks under your skin, and all you wanted was to feel more of that.

And when his hand slid up the slightest bit up and his lips enveloped your bottom lip, the softest moan escaped past your parted lips and Harry knew he needed more as well.

“Can you lay back for me.”

His own legs rested by your side, slowly lifting himself to his knees. His eyes were heavy on yours, watching your head slowly nod as you leaned back on the hand behind you.

The hand that was resting by your neck slid down your arm, holding you as he eased himself down, letting your back hit the floor under you. His legs extended out next to yours, shuffling himself so that he had one between your own before he moved to hover over you. One hand keeping himself slightly at level, he pressed the rest of his body down on yours until your lips were reconnected.

“Are you comfortable?” A quick kiss to your lips before he lifted his face away, eyes flicking between your own.

You quickly nodded, swallowing a breath as your fingers held the material of his shirt. “Yes.” Moving your hand from his bicep up around his neck, fingertips tapping lightly against his collarbone. Some loose curls were falling over his forehead and were pushed out of the way when you brought your hand up to run your fingers through them.

Running your nails over his scalp, lowering his head down to yours until your lips met once more. It was slightly different this time; hotter, a tinge of desperation behind both of your movements. Every touch of his skin on yours was sending a bolt of pleasure straight down to where you craved him the most.

The breathing in the room growing heavier, your whines laced with the small puffs of air. His own lips slid to your jaw, then to your neck where he nipped the spot right under your earlobe. Committing you to memory, capturing every inch of your skin, and every sound you made.

He still had a hand resting by your knee, having slid up along with the hem of your dress just hitting the middle of your thighs, as if about to ask if he could move his hand further up, lips parting against yours.

You sucked in his bottom lip between your own, teeth grazing of the thin skin as if giving silent permission. He pulled away slightly, eyelids flitting open. His eyes darkened, voice husky in your ear. “I – I need you to tell me what you want.”

“Please,” mouth searching for his once again. You circled a hand around his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. His hand holding himself up found your arm by your side, trailing his fingers along your forearm until your fingertips were intertwining. “Just – anything.”

Pulling your hand up along with his, keeping it down on the ground above your head, his lips slid away from yours again as he pulled a whimper from your throat, hot breath hitting the side of your neck.

“Still got paint on my hands,” he rasped as his lips brushed over the skin under your earlobe. “Getting it on your thighs.”

“Don’t care,” repeating your words from before with a lift of your hips.

The slow-building ache between your thighs was at an all-time high, as you were hyper-aware of Harry’s hand that was pushing under your dress. You felt an involuntary buck of your hips as he shifted over you, thigh brushing over where you wanted so badly to feel him. “Oh.”

Eyes falling to Harry’s, catching him already watching you. He had that small lift in his lips, the subtle smirk as he knew what he was doing.

And then he was dipping his head lower again, as his hand rose higher on your thigh, pushing the denim of your dress up along with it. His nose skimmed the edge of your dress strap, nudging it aside before his lips kissed over your collarbone.

His fingers were inching their way up your leg, tips just brushing over the corner of your thigh. He was moving oh so slowly, while his lips hotly kissed and sucked on your skin.

He moved the fingers that were still intertwined above your head down, letting go as he let you reposition your own hand through his hair. His fingers were quick to touch your side, fiddling with the hem of your dress that was moved up significantly.

Lips breaking away from your skin, gazing up at you through heavy eyelashes, you nearly had to look away by how intense his gaze was, but you were worried about what you’d miss if you did.

Both hands now on either thigh, edging the fabric of your dress up while his eyes didn’t waver from your own, lifting your bum the slightest bit to help move the material up, until he caught sight of your blue cotton underwear and the fabric was gathered just above your hips.

Suddenly Harry was shuffling down your body, paper rustling under his knees, his forearms pushing at your thighs. When you felt his breath hit the crease of your skin, you were scrambling to prop yourself up on an elbow.

You watched him rise to his knees and then to his feet, watching the slight confusion dawn your features as he quickly walked through his apartment and over to the couch that sat opposite to you. He didn’t leave for long enough for you to even begin to shuffle up, quickly reappearing with a plush blanket in hand.

Soon finding himself in the same position he was previously, not before plopping the blanket down on the ground and guiding you to move your hips on top of it.

“More comfortable this way,” he chuckled at your expression, hands quick to grab at your skin once more.

He pushed your legs further apart, bending at the knee as your legs butterflied. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure he wasn’t pushing you too far.

“What are you,” you paused, swallowing a thick breath as your mind was unable to focus on a simple thing other than the fact Harry was hovering dangerously close to where you were aching. “What are you doing.”

“Paint,” was all he said, lips wet on your skin. “Can’t use my hands.”

Sliding his body the few more inches he needed for his mouth be level with the inside of your thigh, pulling a shaky breath from you as he lowered his lips. His lips grazed right over the skin of your inner thigh, leg jolting at the touch.

“Can I?” his voice rasped deep from below you, hot breath warming your entire body. “Tell me if I can.”

You needed to swallow a heavy gulp before answering, unable to believe the anticipation that was building. “Please, yes.”

A high gasp sound from your throat when his lips closed over your clothed core, pressure against your clit. His hands that had been holding your thighs apart moved over your hips, the cotton of your underwear between his thumb and index finger.

Lifting your hips, your own hand coming down to pull at the fabric of your garment, Harry was quick to take hold of said hand, wanting to be the one to undress you. Inching the fabric off of you, he eased your thighs to bend, making it easier to fully discard the thin material.

Moving your hand to rest in his hair, hands on your thighs again with his eyes skimming over every inch of skin in front of him. You were wanting to watch his every move, and tightly shut your eyes. You decided on the former, fingers locking tightly in his hair as his lips skimmed over the sensitive skin of your thighs once again.

Harry was reveling in the sight before him; having you spread for him with the sunset casting a golden glow all over your body. Your dress bunched around your hips, cunt glistening, eyelids heavy and lips wet as you breathlessly panted his name. “Harry.”

“Fuck,” he muttered against you when he finally got his first taste. You were wet, so wet, and perfectly sweet.

Your back arched at his first touch, tongue lapping over your folds. His forearms still over your thighs, pushing them further apart to spread you open.

The sound you made when he repeated the motion, this time seeking out your clit, told him that he was successful in doing so. Your hips jolted slightly at the feeling, breathless whimper escaping your mouth as he paid close attention to the sensitive bit of nerves.

You were certain you felt yourself leaking as Harry experimented with your clit, gently and then roughly pushing the tip of his tongue against it.

“Oh...!” Mouth gaping open when his lips circled around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he lightly sucked. He repeated the motion, tongue lightly flicking over the nub before he pulled it between his mouth.

You lifted your head when his lips retreated from your clit, sucking into the skin of your thigh once again. Unable to take your eyes off the way his cheeks hollowed and his dark eyes remained intent on you as if you would disappear if he looked away.

Tongue licking up to your wet hole, saliva mixing with your arousal as he poked his tongue past your entrance. He had you pushing your hips up against him, nails digging into the skin on his neck while his tongue worked inside of you.

“Oh, God.” It was heavenly.

He worked slowly against you, tongue pushing up against your clit in a way that made your back arch of the mattress as you desperately needed more. “Harry –”

His lips circled around your swollen clit, eliciting a sharp cry at the end of your praise. Fingers pulling tightly in his already messy locks, not caring about the roughness of your actions in the moment. All you could focus on was how you felt completely on fire by the way Harry touched you.

He hummed against your heat, likely muttering something that you couldn’t make out. He sent vibrations all through your body, shooting up your spine and making your mind melt. You knew you were slick, probably embarrassingly so, but the way Harry was burying himself between your thighs left you without a care.

“It’s good?” His hot voice pulled your focus back onto him, glancing down when his tongue licked up your folds again, pushing through on every spot until your legs kicked slightly when he hit your clit. “Feels good?”

He moved his head away, hovering just over you with a lick to his lips. “So good,” you whimpered into the air, craving to feel him on you again. “O-on my clit again –”

You were cut short when his mouth kissed over you again, lips parted until they found their place around your clit, this time sucking harshly as he gaged your reaction.

His arms were still holding your legs parted, fingers gripping tightly into your skin there were sure to be crescent moon shaped nail marks indented into your thighs. His tongue was dancing patterns on your clit, pressure going from light to rough within a matter of seconds.

Listening to every heavy breath, every small gasp, and every light moan that was being pulled from your chest, Harry was memorizing every move he made that you reacted to.

You swore you could feel his lips curve to a smile when his tongue delved back into you, licking along slick skin while his nose nudged your clit. The small movement had you pushing your hips up, his tongue digging into you.

And then he was tugging on your clit again, pulling a deep moan from low in your throat that had him wanting to hear nothing else.

There was a fire in the pit of your stomach, chest heaving as you felt a slow build of your climax. Thighs pressing against his hands as you seemed to be unable to keep them still, completely focused on the way his tongue was quickly working against you.

Clenching around nothing, your back arching as you sought him out. “Need something,” you babbled. “Need more.”

He only muttered against you, not wanting to break contact from your heat for a moment too long. “No hands,” was all he said for a moment, the noise of his mouth wet on your cunt making you lose your mind.

“Know you can do it,” he moaned after a moment, encouraging you as he wanted nothing more than to see you unravel under him.

He worked with skill against you, making it his mission to see you cum for him. He knew he was getting you there, your breathing getting heavier and your grip getting tighter in his hair. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would sound when you came.

Getting you close, words starting to babble from your lips, pleads laced with praises and small cries that he could barely decipher spurred him on.

“I’m –” you gasped, eyes squeezing shut at the fire that was about to burn out of your core.

“Go on,” he urged, voice quiet as he didn’t want to take his lips off you for more than a second. Tongue circling around you quickly before licking quick patterns over the sensitive spot of your clit that made you call out his name.

“Oh…!” Mouth hanging open when you came against his mouth, his hands releasing your legs the slightest bit as they tried to squeeze close around his head. Hips jolting up with a rise of your bum, your hands tight in his hair.

The sound of your moans filled his ears, knowing that this was now the best thing he had ever heard. His tongue slowed around you before he pulled his head away and watched in awe at the sight in front of him. Your chest was heavily rising, lips wet and bit darker with your eyes closed shut.

The pleasure coursing through you slowly subsided, daring to peek an eye open at Harry by your thighs. He had a lazy smile etched across his mouth, and you watched his tongue dart out to lick his wet lips. His cheeks flushed red and hair disarray, as you slowly let go of your grip on his head, arms falling to your side.

The sun had set past the building outside, the light that was previously golden orange was now a hazy blue, casting darkened shadows under Harry’s features.

He lifted himself to his knees, stretching his arms out as he kept his eyes on you with a wide grin.

“Is,” you were the first to speak, propping yourself up on your elbows as you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not before noticing the blue and orange paint that was in fact smeared on your thighs. “Is painting always like that?”

A breathless chuckle escaped his parted lips, and he was suddenly hovering over you again. “Painting has never been like that.”

#hi #i really hope everyone enjoyed <333 #please rb and share and let me know what u think !!!! happy reading #cb #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years ago

Text

Window Pain

It was late. Well passed the time you should’ve gone to bed. Your parents had said good night hours ago. It’s not that you hadn’t tried going to sleep, but there was a lot running through your mind. You were heading off to college in the next few days and memories of this summer were keeping you awake. The most cliched, amazing summer of your life.

Every moment that wasn’t spent saving money for college was spent with friends doing things they do in the movies. BBQ’s, bonfires, beach trips, all of it. Unfortunately, some of your friends had already had to move on to the next chapter in their lives, Taehyung being the next to go.

He was due to leave first thing in the morning, you’d already said your goodbyes earlier that day. It didn’t feel like enough. He had been your best friend for most of high school, glued together. You’d taken all the same electives, a lot of the same extra curriculars, even the same part time jobs. Now he might as well be moving a million miles away. It was going to be beyond weird to have to branch out and make new friends, he was always better at it than you were.

After trying and failing to fall asleep for another twenty minutes, you hear a soft tapping on your window. Attributing it to a bird or a branch, you roll to face away and pull a pillow over your ears. When the noise doesn’t stop, you start to get a little concerned. You contemplate fetching your dad from the other room to investigate, but soon realise how silly you will seem if you wake him just to shoo a harmless animal.

Taking a deep breath you wrap your duvet around your shoulders and shuffle towards you window. Tentatively you pull back the curtains, shocked to find someone else staring back. The sudden scare made you trip on the corner or your blanket landing you in a heap on the floor, staring up at a laughing Taehyung. Recovering quickly, you unlatch the window, and he pushes passed you inside.

“Are you insane?!” Your voice hushed to make sure your parents stay asleep.

“No.”

“You’re an actual idiot, could you not have text me? I thought I was going to die.”

“Do murderers usually knock?” he says the question with such a straight face anyone else might’ve thought he was serious.

“What do you want Tae?” you ask, moving back to your bed and curling into your blanket.

“I couldn’t leave tomorrow without seeing you again Y/N.” he sits cautiously on the edge of the mattress. “Not after four years of this will they/won’t they feeling.” Too overtired to take in the full weight of his words, you just stare back clueless.

“Tae being your best friend, I can usually follow any train of thought you are on, but this time you’ve really lost me.” Your brows knit together in confusion as you watch him try to think of a way to better way to voice his problem. It’s so endearing to watch him think. His lips go pouty, and you can see every cog turning in his brain. He meets your eyes, and you can see the exact moment he figures out what he wants to say.

“It’s like that.” He is just pointing at you now, leaving you even more in the dark than before. You relinquish the warmth of your covers and shuffle to sit next to him.

“Tae, I don’t get…”

“You can’t not get it! You keep saying stuff like ‘You’re my best friend.’ or when people see us together you say, ‘He is just a friend’!”

“Did you climb in through my window just to yell about us being friends?” genuinely concerned for his mental stability now, you raise you hand to play with his hair like you always have done to calm him down.

“No, I just…. You just… you keep saying we are friends but then you look at me like that.” This time instead of just gesturing at your face, he places his hand on your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes properly.

“Look at you like what?” it’s barely above a whisper. You know what he is talking about. Of course you do. It has been blatantly obvious to everyone in your grade that you have been in love with Taehyung from the moment you met. You just never thought he had noticed.

“Look at me like… like you might feel exactly the same way I do.” His eyes are so full of hope. It would be hard to break eye contact even if he weren’t holding you there.

“I’m scared Tae.”

“Don’t think about it, just kiss me.” He presses his lips against yours. Its everything you ever thought it could be. Explosive fireworks and soft contentment all rolled into one. The kind of kiss that would make a girl’s foot *pop* if they were stood. The kind of kiss that shattered friendships. You back out of the kiss when the realisation hits. There’s no way to go back from here.

“I can’t lose you because of this.” It’s a genuine fear. The main one that’s held you back all this time. Why you never told him when you met, when you went on the school trip to Paris in junior year, earlier today when all you wanted to do was scream for him not to leave you. It took all you had to supress these emotions. If you were to go any further than this there would be no way to shut them away again. It’s either him forever, or never.

“You won’t lose me; you can’t lose me. And I can’t go to college without telling the girl I love that I love her.” The anxious twist in the bottom of your stomach explodes into butterflies. Every word you’d ever fantasized him saying to you was coming directly from him. Unless you weren’t having as much trouble sleeping as you thought. Before you get a chance to pinch yourself and wake up, he is kissing you again. Pushing you back onto the mattress and entwining your hands above your head. You’re not sure you could protest if you wanted to. He is far stronger, and your vocal cords have long since left the building. Luckily, you are exactly where you want to be. Content with anywhere as long as its in his arms.

His mouth moves from yours and trails along your jaw line, little whimpers falling from your lips in response. Something this simple should not be this sexy, and yet….

Each warm press of his lips against your skin sets you on fire. You long to touch him, run your fingers through his hair, drag your nails along his arms, anything, but he keeps your hands out of his way for now. It’s no secret that Taehyung has more experience than you. There had been the odd boy in your attempts to keep your feelings at bay, none of them ever made it passed second base though. Taehyung, on the other hand, had his fair share of cheerleaders and music girls hanging around him. its not something you guys had ever talked about in too much detail, but you were certain he had lost his virginity a long time ago. Like you said, Taehyung made friends very easily.

He finally releases your hands when he gets to the collar of your pj’s. you use your new-found freedom to bury into his thick curls, tugging lightly as he pushes your top upwards. You let go just long enough for him to take the shirt over your head. You don’t see where he throws it, too preoccupied with the fact his face was once again parallel with yours. Using the fabric of his shirt you pull his lips back to yours, using the momentum to flip yourself on top. He hits the bed with a small oof, caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness. You tear yourself away from him to take in the new view; his dumb boxy smile shining up at you.

His hands trail up your bare sides, cupping your breasts as he reaches them. His thumbs play with your nipples. Unconsciously, you grind down onto his hips. You feel his cock stir against your bum and can’t help but giggle at the sensation. You wiggle your hips again in hopes of receiving the same reaction. This time you are rewarded by a small escaping his lips. His hands leave their resting place on your chest and tangle into the mess that is your hair. He tugs you back down to meet him, shoving his face into your neck so he can bite on the sensitive skin there, marking you as his. With each rock of your hips, you feel him start to rock back. The friction added to the slight pain in your neck was amazing. You reach a hand down to play with the fly on his jeans. Before you get a chance to slide the zip down and explore further, he stops you.

“Y/N? have you done this before?” he brushes the hair back out of your face, the softest expression on his face, completely juxtaposed to the position you are in.

“No.” you admit sheepishly, suddenly feeling very insecure.

“Me either.” His admission surprises you, and apparently, it’s obvious as he laughs. “I could never get over the thought that it should be you. All of my first should have been you, but at least we still have this.” You nod and move to continue from where you left off, but he stops you again. “but not now.” You can’t stop the noise of protest as it escapes your throat making him laugh again.

“But you’re leaving tomorrow, and I don’t want to go to college without showing the boy I love that I love him.” you echo his words from earlier, hoping to gain brownie points at the same time as expressing how you feel for him. you’ve never been good at talking properly about serious feelings.

“I’m not going anywhere yet, I told my parents I needed a few more days here, I leave the same day you do. I want to take you out, on proper date before we go any further than this.”

“Fine but you are going to pay for the blue balls at a later date.” You kiss him once more before clambering off of his lap and settling into his side. He pulls the duvet over the two of you, shielding your topless form from the world and you find yourself drifting straight off in to the best sleep you’ve ever had.

A/N: sorry for the blueballs this was getting a little long

Feb request prompts - still open

Masterlist

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung #taehyung smut #v smut #v x reader #taehyung reader #bts fluff #kpop fic #kpop smut #feb

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fandom-blackhole · 4 years ago

Note

Darling, it's not me who is trying to kill you! It's just that the buckets are too skkskskhsslsk 🥵

Paz and you playing hide and seek in the forest?

He'd go 100% soldier on a mission mode and find you in no time,

''Looks like I found my precious target'' ,

You being all smol and scaweed 🥺😫,

Then he goes apeshit, wrestling you so hard against the tree that it'd leave marks on your back,

If you were camping in the mountains, he'd pack the tiniest tent and sleeping bag possible to stay as close as it'd be possible,

Paz thinks when you are with him there is no personal space,

Omg, you on top of him, being pounded mercilessly as he'd trap you so hard with his hands around your back,

He'd also press his palm against THE BULGE and nut instantly after he felt your pussy gripping his dick,

Okay, let's stop because, dear god we 'bout to bust, aren't we?

One day you decided to surprise Paz at his work,

You sneaked to the kitchen by the back entrance and hugged him from behind,

He'd slowly turn to face you big smile plastered on his face,

Until he saw what you were wearing,

You put on this baby blue flowy dress,

''Sweetheart, you are looking like a snacc''

My lovely little cupcake, might as well eat you here and now''

He just lifted you with one hand like you weighted nothing and sat you on a counter,

He quickly got rid of your panties (he totally stole them from you because he loves your taste and smell) and was eating you out like a starved man,

Even tho he was cooking all the time, he'd always be hungry for you,

You trying to cover your mouth with your hands so his employees and dinners wouldn't hear you,

But he was fast ro grab your hands and just chuckle saying

''Sweetness, I am the ownere here, right? So let me hear these pretty noises of yours, let people know how good I make you feel''

DID I SAY WE NEED TO CHILL OUT? GUESS I CAN'T STOP MYSELF SORRY

Din would text you through the day and it's a mix between:

''Good morning, my sweet girl, Did you sleep well?'', ''Baby, remember to eat your breakfast'', ''Have you drink enough water today?'',

''Daddy, can't wait to get back home to you'', ''Babygirl, my dick is painfully hard right know, been thinkin' too much about your pretty, little pussy'',

Din is a SHY 😊 and sweet mean, he loves being silly with his class, but the daddy thing makes him wild,

Din you better wash out your mouth with a soap lol,

When you visited him and Grogu to catch up with them, he couldn't keep his cool,

Seeing you playing with Grogu and being so motherly towards the kid sparked something in Din,

When Grogu settled for his afternoon nap, Din would grab you and pin you against the wall, one hand resting on your chest the other tucking hair behind your ear, growling in this rich chocolate timber:

''Sweet girl, you have no idea what you do to daddy'',

But when you innocently sit in his lap in public, he gets all shy and blushy, hesitantly resting his hands on your thighs,

Umm dirty secret? He once stole your white bra and used it to relieve himself when you were away 🤭,

Don't wear low-cut clothing around him or he'd end up crashing into something or landing on his ass,

9/10 times you'd catch him trying to sneak a glance at your tiddies and being all embarrassed when caught,

Giving him a tiddy job but being also able to succ his tip too because he is so well-endowed, Din.exe has stopped working, nutted to death,

If there were more buckedheads I don't know if we could keep on writing these,

Boba lives off his authority and power,

You wanting to keep your relationship professional impressed him a lot,

You weren't another young, stupid girl chasing after his money,

There was going to be another charity event, he send you a beautiful Tiffany choker to pair up with your outfit,

He almost came in his suit pants, when he noticed you giving a speech at the event, wearing his present,

After you were done speaking, he came up to you and the group of other attendees you were talking with,

'' Miss, your speech was really touching and thoughtful '' you instantly feelt so proud, being praised for your hard work in front of all of these people, cheerfully smiling at him,

Before you had time to respond, he got closer to you, smirk crawling up on his face and whispered:

'' Also, this necklace suits you so nicely, princess''

You just got flustered and said to him:

'' Thank you, sir'' while bitting your lower lip,

Well next thing you knew, you were being kidnapped to the parking lot, Boba literally throwing you onto backsit of his car,

Thank God you decided to wear garters and stocking that night

I have nothing more left to say. - 🐣

This AU is just getting better and better, you are such a genius...

Hid and seek with Paz 3729201/10, best fucking idea

Paz just goes absolutely ape shit watching his cock buldge out your belly

Paz stealing your panties whenever he can 😭😭😭

Paz does not understand personal space when it comes to you

He HAS to be touching you in some way when you are around

Holding your hand, hand around you waist, arm around your shoulder, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans

When he first sat next to you in your booth at his restaurant and your thighs touched, his heart soared when you didn't pull away from him

Paz and yours first date, was really like your 12th, but Paz took you to a strawberry farm

Held the baskets as you picked the fruit, constantly telling you that you picked the best berries

After he bought a bottle of strawberry wine, which the two of you shared over a small dinner that he made

Then the next thing you knew you both were on your couch, you on his lap, having a very heated make out session

Which lead to Paz picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom, where the two of you had a very passionate and intense wrestling session

Now, Din, my sweet himbo

He gets soooo flustered with PDA

You once kissed his cheek in front of some people, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting

Din constantly checking on you throughout the day 🥺🥺🥺

He always calls on his lunch break, just to talk with you and see how your day is going and talk about his class

One day when you came to check on Grogu at school, the rest of the kids convinced you to read to them during playtime

Din had to sit behind his desk for a while because just seeing you like that made him so hard

That night he wrestled with you until he passed out

Din once asked if he could keep his cock inside of you all night long

You woke up aching and leaking from how many times the two of had cum during the night

Din had moaned when he woke up and just spulled you under him for an early morning wrestling match

Now for Boba....

Boba always makes sure that you have some kind of present waiting for you in the mornings

Flowers, clothes, jewelry, a five star breakfast, himself

Boba totally gets you the prettiest tiara for his princess

Everything you own soon becomes namebrand, because only the best for his little

The first time Boba seen you wearing one of his gifts he had dragged you into the closest empty room, and left you marked and jelly legged

Boba totally gets you a custom gun for you to carry around for safety

Its inscribed with little one

Boba likes to always have your neck covered in hickies so that people know who you belong too

Boba took you to an art show once and every painting you showed interest in he bought for you

Don't mention liking any famous painters because he will get his hands on an original piece for you

Sorry its not much but these boys are driving me up the wall....

(SEND ME THOTS!!!!)

#🐣 anon #modern au #din djarin x reader #din x reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader

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micks-so-cold · 4 years ago

Text

𝕀 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕠 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕐𝕠𝕦

001: y/n moves to California with her mom. Mick is her new neighbor and decides to greet y/n. (Smut)

My mom and I just arrived at our new house in Southern California. We didn’t have an exact reason for moving here specifically; we just wanted to get out of Washington.

A couple months ago, my father passed away from cancer, and our huge house in Washington wasn’t cutting it for us anymore. The extra space only reminded us of his absence more—it only brought us more sadness. So we did the only thing we could—sell it and move far away.

It was late at night when we finally got settled in to our new home. Almost all our possessions were unboxed, except for my own items which were all sitting in boxes in my room.

“I’m going to unbox some of my stuff before heading to bed,” I tell my mom as I stand up from the couch and walk to the trashcan to toss my paper plate away. We decided to have takeout for dinner since there was next to no food in the house.

“I might do the same thing, y/n,” my mom says, standing up and throwing away her plate as well. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

She stands with her arms open, ready for a hug, which I obviously agree to. I never really was a ‘hugger’ until my dad’s death. I didn’t realize how much I would miss his hugs until he passed. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to hug him one last time. And because of that, mom and I made it routine to hug at least once a day. She needed the support as much as I did—I could tell.

My room had only one window, which happened to be facing my neighbor’s window. There wasn’t really a ‘scenic’ view like most people would want, or like I had in Washington, but I didn’t mind it. I’d probably keep my curtains shut most of the time regardless of what was outside. That’s what I always did at my old house. I liked my privacy.

Given that, the first thing I decide to do is put up my curtains. It was pretty late, seven o’clock, to be exact, but as I looked out the window, I noticed the summer night sky still had traces of the pink and orange sunset from earlier in the evening. I like to think my dad was making the sunsets for my mom and me; I like to imagine him painting the sky, blending the warm and cool colors together, and watching us admire his beautiful artwork.

As I worked on hanging my curtains, I hear something hit my window. I drop the curtain rod, catching it only just before it could touch the ground.

I look out the window to see what had made the noise and jump back, surprised, when I see a boy, who looked to be only a couple years older than me, standing only a few feet away from my window.

Was I dreaming? Or is walking up to people’s windows just a normal thing in California?

The boy had long, messy, dark brown hair that swept in front of his face and pouty, deep pink lips. He wore a white sweater and black skinny jeans that fit him well.

I didn’t realize I had drawn myself into a trance until the boy snapped me out of it. “Open the window for me so I can stop yelling?” he questions. His voice didn’t sound too loud to me, but I could tell it was raised so I could hear.

I unlock the window and push it up. When I look back up at him, he had a subtle smirk on his face that caused my cheeks to flush a light shade of pink. I look down slightly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see my blush, though I’m sure he could.

“You’re new, aren’t you? Figured I’d introduce myself. Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he speaks in a deep voice and noticeably slow tone. I just now noticed his thick British accent. “I’m Mick.” He moves a little closer, twirling a joint around his pointer and middle fingers as he does so.

“Throwing rocks at windows is actually a great way to frighten your new neighbors,” I state, regaining a little bit of my composure.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Mick chuckles, like I was the silly one. He leans down and picks up a dirty tennis ball, holding it up for me to see. “That’s why I used this.”

“Right, because that’s so much better,” I say sarcastically.

He tosses the ball to the side. “Certainly is.” I watch him run his fingers through his hair a few times. He glances up at me, like he was waiting for me to speak.

“Okay, Mick, I’ve got to finish unpacking my things. Thanks for stopping by,” I tell him. I didn’t know what to say, and, frankly, I didn’t really want him here. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him—I’m just tired, and I have to unpack before I go to sleep. There was plenty of time tomorrow. He could talk to me then.

I reach up to shut the window, but Mick put his foot up on the window sill. “Don’t I get a name at least? You know, before you kick me out.” His smirk never left his face until he brought his joint up to his lips. He breathes in and turns his head to the side, letting out a puff of smoke, before turning his attention back to me.

“I have the right to kick you out if I never invited you in the first place,” I explain, humored at his persistence. “But my name is y/n.”

“Y/n?” Mick questions. He goes back to twirling the joint between his fingers. “Y/n, what a beautiful name. Y/n.” His voice was almost teasing, but it made my face warm.

“Mick, I-I really—” I start to speak, but he cuts me off.

“You’re really blushing, aren’t you, y/n?” He speaks in a whisper. His blue eyes stare into mine, and his tongue traces his plump upper lip. “You like when I say your name, don’t you, y/n?”

I stood there silently, mouth slightly open, shocked at just how bold someone could be within minutes of knowing another person. Is this how Mick acts with everyone he meets?

“Well, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” Mick interrupts my thoughts. How long have I been silent?

He must think I’m weird now. And I couldn’t blame him. I should’ve replied to his question. But how am I supposed to respond to that?

“Let me make it up to you—I’ll help you get your stuff out of those boxes,” he suggests.

So maybe he didn’t think I was too weird.

His eyes trail away from my face and to the few things that I had inside. He even peaks his head inside to see the emptiness that was on the sides of the room.

“It’s okay. I’ll manage. Thanks,” my voice was quiet—I was nervous. I seemed to only get more nervous the longer we talked. That’s not how conversations should work.

Mick shakes his head and steps inside. For some reason, I didn’t bother stopping him. “I insist,” he tells me, placing his hand over his heart and bowing ever so slightly. We were standing closer now; only a few inches remain between us, and I had to look up at him to make eye contact. He was taller than me—by four inches, at least.

Anxiously, I take a couple steps back and play with my fingers—a nervous habit of mine. Mick follows me, though. Each step I take away from him, he takes one toward me.

On my last step back, my foot gets caught on the curtain rod I was trying to get in place before Mick decided to throw a tennis ball at my window. I stumble backward, squeeze my eyes shut, and let out a squeal as I fall to the ground.

But I don’t end up falling to the ground.

I open my eye to see Mick holding me. His hands were placed on my lower back. “Good thing I stayed, huh? Would’ve landed on your bum,” He chuckles.

“Nuh uh,” I protest. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you weren’t still here...and if you weren’t...” I squirm a little in his arms which were still loosely wrapped around my body. “If you weren’t...” I didn’t want to admit what I was planning to say next.

Mick smiles. “If I wasn’t?” He pulls his bottom lip with his teeth and unexpectedly pulls me toward him. Our bodies were now touching, and I’m sure my heart rate doubled. The rough fabric of his jeans brushed against my bare legs which were only covered by the small, black athletic shorts I wore during the day. “Finish that thought for me, y/n.”

I shake my head.

“Don’t make me force it out of you,” he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my body. A warm wave rushed through my insides.

I shake my head once again.

“Answer my question...don’t be a bad girl,” he whispers in the same ear, dominance clear in his voice. His breath tickled my ear. I grip the fabric of my white T-shirt and bunch it together in an attempt to keep my composure.

Mick moves his hands off my back and grabs my hands, prying them off the fabric and holding them tightly in his hands. “Am I going to have to punish you?” His fingers slowly rub circles on my palms. “Tell me, y/n, do you think you deserve to be punished?”

I don’t know what came across my, and I don’t know exactly what Mick meant by the word ‘punish,’ but something told me to agree with him. So I nod my head.

“Your words, y/n, use them.” Mick cocked his head to the side while he stared at my lips. He lifted one of his hands to my bottom lip and ran his thumb across it. “I want you to tell me you deserve to be punished.”

“Mick...” I speak, my voice quiet and squeaky, while he held his thumb on my lower lip. “I deserve to...be punished.”

“Good,” he blandly says, licking his lips before immediately taking control.

He pushes me back with his hands which were placed on the top of my chest. My trembling legs eventually hit the side of my queen size bed, and Mick wastes no time pushing my back down to the bed. “I’ll get those words out of you,” he chuckles in a cynical manner. “If it’s the last thing I do, y/n.”

I breathe out heavy pants and nod my head. Mick slips his warm hands under my T-shirt and his fingers crawl up to the cups of my bra. He presses his lips to mine and tugs on my lip with his teeth. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled as he continues his gentle kiss.

I reach to wrap my arms around his torso, but Mick stops me. He lifts his hands off my bra and grabs my hands. “Not so fast, darling. Not when you’re being punished,” he strictly spoke. He gets up off the bed. And walks to the other side of the room.

I frown and sit up. I didn’t want him to go away. I liked this. Whatever it was. I liked the excitement. “You’re...leaving?” I was hesitant to ask. I hope he couldn’t hear the disappointment in my voice.

Mick chuckles. “Of course not.” I watch him reach for a box and untie the thin rope that was wrapped around it to keep it shut. He gripped the rope in one hand and walked back over to me, taking off his shirt as he did so.

I curl up in the corner of the bed, partially nervous, mostly excited. I admire Mick’s slim, toned body as he walks toward me.

“Don’t keep staring at me like that, baby. You’re making me cocky,” he says with a smirk, though we both knew he was already quite cocky. Quickly, I look away with hot cheeks.

He drops the rope on the bed and crawls over to me. “This needs to go,” he says, referring to my shirt, as he pulls it over my head, leaving me in just my black bra with a small lace bow in the center. Mick smiles when he sees it, though I felt embarrassed. I would’ve worn more appropriate clothes had I known this is what I’d be participating in tonight.

“You’re adorable, y/n.” I like watching his lips as he spoke—I liked watching his lips move when my name rolled off his tongue. He licks his lips before removing the clasp from my bra with one hand, clearly experienced, and tossing it to the empty side of the bed. He grabs the rope in place of the bra.

He doesn’t bother explaining to me what he was doing, but I already had a clue when he started to tie my wrists together. And once the knot was secure, he tied the loose ends to the bed frame of my bed.

This was the last thing I expected to happen on my first night in California, but I was glad it was happening. There was something about Mick that I liked, something I just couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“Look at you,” Mick spoke, his voice in awe. He moves over me, his hips only an inch apart from me, and grasps my breast. His thumb circles over my nipple, moving slowly, and he watches my facial expressions as he does so.

I squirm and thrust my hips upward, only to be pushed back down by him. “Still, baby. I want you still,” he requests. “If you’re getting a kick out of this...” he eyes down at my breast which he was still vigorously working on. “Then I just don’t know how you’ll survive when I move further down.” His deep voice made me feel damp down there, something I haven’t felt in a while.

“M-mick,” I gasp when he brings his mouth to my nipple that he wasn’t massaging. His tongue swirls around my breast and I couldn’t help but moan. “More, more, Mick,” I groan and shake my hands, trying to get them out of the tight hold Mick put them in. I wanted to feel him. I wanted my hands in his hair. I wanted my hands on his body. I needed to pull him closer, but I couldn’t.

I arch my back trying to get closer to him as his mouth and hand still worked on my breasts. “Shh, baby,” he hums, clearly pleased with how much I was struggling. “I know you want me, but you’ve been a bad girl, remember?” He teases me.

“I’m sorry...I-I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I need to-to touch you, Mick. I know I’m a bad girl...but I need you.”

Mick ignores my pleads. “What kind of punishment would this be if I gave you what you wanted?” He pokes fun while I continue moving around, trying to get to him.

He continues his suck on my breast while his other hand moves down to my shorts. His fingers slide under the elastic waistband with ease and he pushes them down to my knees.

He suddenly stops working on my breast and sits up. He begins to run his fingers along the seams of my underwear. “I hope you’re ready, baby,” he looks at me with a gentle smile before directing his attention to my panties.

He aggressively presses his fingers over my clit which was covered only by a light pink fabric. I close my eyes at his touch which had such an effect on me—an effect I would probably never understand. “You’re so wet for me,” he comments, pleased with himself. “And I’ve barely even explored down here yet, doll.”

He pulls down my damp panties. “Open your eyes. I didn’t tell you you could close your eyes,” Mick demands. I do as I was told and when I open my eyes I see him holding my cotton panties by the waistband in front of us, very close to my face.

“See what I’ve done to you, y/n?” He asks. I look at the darker pink area of the panties that he caused. I nod my head. Of course I knew what he did to me.

“Next time you wear these, you’ll think of me, understood?” He asks for confirmation. “You’ll remember just how wet I can make you—just how much power I have over you. Got it?”

I nod my head. There was no way I could forget this, even if I wanted to.

“Speak.” His voice was demanding.

“I understand,” I whimper, desperate for his hands and mouth to explore me once again.

“You understand what?” Mick wanted the full sentence.

“Mick,” I groan his name. “I-I understand that you...you hold power over me.” My voice was whiny. I needed him to touch me right now.

“That’s right,” he says, satisfied.

Finally, he brings his finger down to my pussy and plays with my flaps. His warm fingers knew the exact speed at which I liked. I try squeezing my legs together but am expectedly stopped by Mick.

“No, y/n,” he states, looking me dead in the eyes as he continues to work at my pussy. “You’re a bad girl. I don’t know how many times I have to remind you. You don’t get to choose what you do anymore. That’s for me to decided.” Mick’s dominance was more apparent now than ever.

He brought his pointer finger down to my hole and shoved it into me without any warning. I shudder and let out a whimper, immediately thrusting my hips up. “Mick...Mick...” I moan his name. “More,” I whisper.

He shoves two more fingers inside me, and I rattle my arms uncontrollably as his fingers trace up and down my walls, exploring anywhere they please. Mick smiles at my fight to restrict myself as much as possible.

“I hope you’re learning your lesson, baby.” He starts pumping his fingers in and out, slowly at first, but then gradually picking up the pace.

“Faster,” I groan. “Faster.”

“Beg some more and I’ll consider it,” he teases me. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Say my name. Tell me just how bad of a girl you were. Beg for it, y/n.”

“Mick,” I gasp. “Mick I need it...I-I need...it...faster.” My voice rose as I spoke, as I became more and more desperate. “I’ve been a very bad girl, I-I know...but I need it faster...harder.”

And Mick complies. His three-finger pumps become more aggressive. He was faster. “My sweet girl, how do you feel?” He asks me.

“I feel...” I lose track of what I was saying as I was too caught up with his actions.

“Do you feel like you can finish that sentence now.? ‘If you weren’t so...’” He curls his fingers inside of me, making me shake the bed frame. “Have you been punished enough, y/n?”

I nod my head, eagerly. “If you weren’t so...intimidating.”

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fan fiction I’ve written and I hope you like it! Feel free to suggest any prompts you want to read. I’d love to write them. :) Thanks so much for reading! Xx

#mick jagger #the rolling stones #music #keith richards #classic rock #rock #rock music #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #smut #rolling stones #mature

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corruptedconfessions · 4 years ago

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????Shigaraki x reader

Thanks @shorkbrian for letting me write your idea!

Day 8???? I think. This was meant to be either a sleep paralysis demon work or a incubus work, but uh, im indecisive so he could be either uwu its up to your interpretation!

This is another gender neutral one! Be prepared for a male reader tomorrow~

Warnings: noncon, sleep paralysis, just general gross creepy Shigaraki vibes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft hum of your vibrator filled your room along with your soft gasps and moans, your body was stretched out across your sheets, legs spread slightly as you rocked down onto the toy buried deep inside of you. It was on low for now, you were exhausted, worn down and strung thin from a long stressful day, you weren’t in the mood for higher vibrations. You were enjoying the soft headspace you were in, nuzzled deep in your pillows with gentle thrums of pleasure rolled through you, soft and sweet.

You gasped, moaning softly as you rolled your hips down, gasping and arching off the bed as you trembled softly, riding out your orgasm. Even while rocking down onto your vibrator, gasping and whining that soft warm feeling never left you, leaving you loose and relaxed against the sheets.

You were so comfortable you didn’t even notice the figure slinking out of your closet, sliding across the room to the foot of your bed as you melted back against the sheets, mewling softly as you rode out the gentle aftershocks of pleasure.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your hand drifted down, reaching down to turn the vibrator off and fully fall asleep. Only to jump in surprise, gasping in shock when a cold clammy hand clamped around your wrist, another grabbing the base of your vibrator, shoving it deeper inside of you as the vibrator was turned all the way up to the highest setting.

You squealed loudly, trying to jerk away, trying to open your eyes, to do anything, but you found yourself frozen. Unable to move away from the touches, unable to open your eyes and look down at your attacker.

More cries and gasps fell from your lips as the freezing cold hand around your wrist tightened, the other hand twisting the vibrator deep inside of you as it started fucking you hard with it. You couldn’t even shake or squirm away from the pleasure as you were pounded open, the vibrations feeling so good against your already sensitive and abused walls.

It was only a few minutes before you found yourself whimpering, crying out sweetly again as you came a second time, tightening down on the vibrator and squealing when it only made the vibrations against your sensitive walls all the more pleasurable. You were fucked through your orgasm, left feeling raw and on edge as it kept going continuing to fuck your sensitive and trembling hole as you cried out and whimpered desperately, wanting it to stop but unable to lift a finger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

You weren’t sure how long you were left like that, crying and whimpering through orgasm after orgasm, held tight and fucked silly. You must have blacked out at some point since the next thing you knew you were waking up, groaning weakly against the rays of light shining in your face.

You glanced down at yourself, finding yourself fully clothed again, tucked into your blankets perfectly…too perfectly. Your gaze slid to your bedside drawer where your vibrator sat innocently, sitting in the exact place you always put it when you were finished and ready to pass out.

Had it all been a dream?

You pulled your blankets back, stumbling out of bed, groaning softly. Your entire lower half felt sore, insides still twitching and pulsing like they usually did right after cumming, not hours later. Maybe you had gotten too worried up and fucked yourself silly before dreaming up that weird dream?

Your eyes drifted to your closet, the door was slightly cracked open, and a cold chill ran down your spine. Still, you had to get ready for work, you didn’t have time to stand in one place and daydream about what might or might not be hiding in your closet. You had a job to do and you needed to focus!

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Despite saying you needed to focus you found yourself drifting the whole day, mind drifting back to the night before with a red face, squeezing your legs together as you tried to get back to your task only to find your mind drifting again only moments later.

The day seemed to drag on and race by at the same time, before you knew it you were crawling into bed. You had briefly eyed your vibrator from the night before but quickly shook your head, you were still so sensitive from the night before that despite the throb of need that pulsed through you. You felt so sensitive the idea of cumming again almost felt painful, so you curled up into bed, pulling your blankets tight around your shoulders as you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep.

Only for your eyes to snap awake when you felt a hand wrapped around your ankle. You gasped, jumping out of your skin, trying to jerk your leg away from the touch, sit up, do anything! But you found yourself frozen, staring down in shock as a figure melted out of the darkness, climbing up your bed with an unsettling grin. Greasy light blue hair hung in front of his face as bright red eyes stared up at you.

You whimpered softly in confusion as he pulled your blankets back, cracked dry hands grabbing your hips, lifting them off the bed as he pulled your pajama bottoms and panties off. You could only watch in confusion as he lifted your legs up, spreading them wide, eyes locked onto your still puffy hole.

“Slut.”

You jumped gasping softly in shock when he spoke, briefly lifting his eyes to meet your gaze before they fell down to your entrance. He let go of one of your legs just to slide it down to his own pants, unbuckling his belt and fumbling with his jeans. You could only watch with wide eyes as he pulled out his already hard cock, stroking it for a moment before his hand roughly grabbed your thigh again, pushing your legs up higher as he lined himself up.

“Thanks for the meal~”

His rough raspy voice felt like sandpaper against your ears as he pushed in, popping inside you easily. You gasped in shock, twitching and clenching down on him as he purred, grinning down at you in a way that had your stomach rolling, anxiety spiking as he pushed your legs up higher, starting to move.

Despite the fear and adrenaline pouring through your body pleasure crashed through you, loud moans and squeals pouring from your mouth as he fucked you.

You’re face was hot in shame as you stared down at him, unable to look away or move at all just like the previous night. You were shaking and moaning, practically falling apart at the seams and he was just watching you with a bored expression, staring intently at you as he thrust his hips deeper. The slightest hint of a smirk crossed his face when your eyes rolled back for a moment, a loud squeal echoing through the room.

You hadn’t even cum yet and you were falling apart, it felt like your very bones were shaking as you whimpered and cried up at him, head spinning. Every smack of his hips against yours felt like a physical hit to your head, energy draining out of you rapidly. You whimpered, groaning as your stomach rolled with neasua as red eyes eyed you, an irritated scowl crossing his face.

“Out of juice already? Damn low level, you need to up your stamina stat.”

He clicked his tongue angrily, pulling away from you, ignoring your weak whimper as he pulled out, unceremoniously dropping your legs back to the bed. You grunted softly in pain, still unable to move from where he had just thrown your legs down. Everything was spinning, white spots dancing across your vision as your body trembled. It felt like your limbs had been replaced with lead, like every single ounce of energy you had ever had had been sucked right out of you.

“At least you taste good.”

You flinched whimpering as he leaned down, dragging a tongue across your cheek, patting your hair lightly before turning around.

“Make sure to rest up, ill be back tomorrow night for the rest of my meal~”

#monstermonth #shigaraki x reader #fantasyau #incubus #sleep paralysis demon

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rubykgrant · 3 years ago

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(I can’t stop writing about the idiots in love, so here; have Simmons and Grif being love-struck dorks in what leads-up to them having snuggle time~)

All day long, they couldn’t stop giggling. Even with the armor on, they could tell when they were looking at each other, and that was all it took. They would try to hold back, then wind up choking on their own laughter. Because, despite the helmets hiding their faces, and without saying anything, they could tell they were both thinking the same thing when they looked at each other; That’s my BOYFRIEND. It made them feel light-headed with happiness, weak in the knees, silly and embarrassed, delighted and undeniably fond. They couldn’t stop giggling.

When they weren’t together, they still had their heads in the clouds; Grif was in a noticeably more pleasant mood than usual when he had work to do. Nobody wanted to question it much, however… it might make him realize what was happening, and then he’d fall back into complaining. Simmons seemed distracted. He still managed to get his work done, so that was fine… he just wasn’t paying much attention to what anybody said to him. The people around them shrugged this off and decided to ignore them. Nobody pressed the issue, and nobody knew that Grif and Simmons were now boyfriends.

They passed each other in the hall at one point near the end of the day, both going somewhere else. People weren’t paying attention to him, but if they were, they would have seen Grif visibly BOUNCE up when he saw Simmons (who started grinning inside his helmet).

“Oh hey, Tomato Can!”

“Shut up! What are you, one of those giant cans of pumpkin mix?”

Simmons reached out, playfully smacking at Grif as he walked by, and Grif did the same. In the middle of the smacking, they also grabbed and pulled on each other’s hands briefly. The giggles finally broke free, and they both could hear the laughter fade away the farther they walked. One again, nobody questioned this much. Grif and Simmons acting stupid and laughing was pretty typical behavior. It certainly wasn’t different from how they usually were.

It was several hours later when it was finally time to be done with work for the day (the day, in fact, was mostly over; it was after 9:30 at night). Simmons immediately went to change out of his armor. He carefully put each piece into it’s storage place, and then tried to NOT look like he was rushing off to see Grif back at their room as fast as possible. Normally, he changed out of the undersuit as well, putting on something loose and comfortable to wear as he went back to his room... it used to make him incredibly self-conscious to bee SEEN by other people in something that was so form-fitting. He also used to change out of the armor in a stall, just like he did way back in high school for PE; changing in and out of his gym clothes where nobody could see him, and only showering after all the other kids were gone. Well, finding out somebody was in love with you was a major ego-boost. He could finish changing back in their room, he was more concerned with getting to see his boyfriend than other people seeing him in the halls (also… it didn’t hurt that over the years, muscles had happened. Simmons had no illusions that he was a “totally buff hottie” or something, but he had come to accept that he wasn’t half-bad looking).

They both had different meal-time schedules today, Grif coming into the mess hall just when Simmons was done for both lunch and dinner. They once again teased and nudged as they passed, giggling at what was now an inside-joke; they were together, and nobody here even knew it, nobody here knew what a big deal it was, nobody knew they were in LOVE. Grif hasn’t felt so silly and infatuated like this since he was basically a kid, and for Simmons this is entirely uncharted territory. He’s not worried though, because he’s going on this romantic journey with Grif… as far as Simmons is concerned, that is absolutely perfect.

As he power-walked briskly, Simmons heard the sound of heavy, rushed foot-steps running up the hall behind him. He turned to see who it was, and there was Grif; he’d only partially changed out of his armor, the upper-half. He still had it on from the waist down. Evidently, he was in too much of a rush to bother with everything. Grif grinned at Simmons when their eyes met, and now Simmons smiled back at him, slightly slowing down as he stayed turned toward Grif, momentarily walking backwards… Grif was so eager to see his boyfriend, he was actually RUNNING. Before Grif caught up to him, Simmons suddenly had and idea. He began to increase how fast he walked, turned forward again, and sprinted down the hall. Grif caught on immediately; this was now a race, and Simmons wanted to beat him back to the room.

Simmons was fairly certain he would win; he had a head-start, Grif detested moving this fast, and the guy still had armor on his legs to weigh him down.

He was proven wrong when he was suddenly yanked back a step by his shirt, causing him to stumble as Grif pulled ahead.

“AHH! Bitch!” Simmons yelled, catching himself against the wall and laughing as he resumed running.

“What was that? I can’t hear you back there!” Grif yelled in return.

It was fairly empty in the halls of the ship, a few other random people were leisurely walking around, some of them still in their armor for late-duty. Luckily, none of them were very familiar with Grif and Simmons, and simply assumed these were two rowdy friends running around after work. Which was technically true… but if anybody who was close to them saw this (the people who had spent years with them, for example), it would trike them as odd; Grif, actually RUNNING, when it wasn’t toward a buffet or away from something life-threatening? Simmons, breaking several rules (that nobody but him took seriously, but still) and making noise like he had absolutely no inhibitions? If their friends had also seen them earlier, spacing out, giggling at each other uncontrollably, and sighing dreamily… perhaps they would have suspected something. Nobody from their group was seeing this. The two of them continued their chase, laughing and taunting each other.

When Grif got to the door, he paused just barely long enough to reach for the handle… and then Simmons slammed into him, knocking Grif off-balance. Grif didn’t fall, but he missed a beat as Simmons jumped inside, and shut the door, letting out a sound that was some kind of shriek, a mix of panic and delight.

“Hey! Let me in, you cheater!” Grif banged on the door.

“You cheated first!” he heard Simmons reply.

“Yeah, and then you go and stoop to my level? Not very mature, Simmons! You’re supposed to a good boy who follows the rules!” Grif tried the handle and pushed… but the door only moved an inch. Simmons was pushing back, shoulder against it and feet braced firmly.

“Well, I’m a crazy, rebellious, wild-card now! Who knows what I’ll do next! I might rob a bank!” it was hard for both of them to make any progress with the door either way; they were out of breath from running AND couldn’t stop giggling.

“Yeah right! You’d go in, try to yell stick-em up like a little kid, then apologize for raising your voice, and walk out of there with a job application!”

“Nuh-uh! I told you, I’m a loose-cannon now! I’m gonna get a tattoo on my bicep that says Born To Die!” Grif’s knees were turning to jelly at the mental thought of this. It was just too funny. “I’ll start wearing a jean jacket with no shirt all the time! I’m gonna get a faux-hawk and dye my hair neon green! I’m gonna legally change my name to a swear word that’s spelled wrong, like Phuck with a P-H! I’ll pierce my ears and wear little padlocks like earrings!”

“Holy crap, shut up dude!”

“I’m gonna tell Sarge… that I’m on BLUE TEAM NOW!”

Grif collapsed against the door, sliding down as he tried to gasp for air. This was such a ridiculous thing to use as an example of rebellion; Sarge had finally come to terms with the fact that blue wasn’t the color of sin, and Simmons had already gone through a fake-traitor incident with Blue Team. It just didn’t matter anymore… that’s why it was hilarious.

“Sim-Simmons… please just- just let me in, please, I’m dying out here, hahaha!” Grif was reduced to begging, and just hoped Simmons had an ounce of mercy.

“Well… since you said PLEASE…” the door finally opened. Grif found the strength to jump back up and pounce on him.

He grabbed Simmons by the waist, lifting him up off the ground, kicking the door shut. They were both laughing again, and Grif was planning on tossing Simmons into a chair, then maybe flicking him on the forehead as pay-back for the shove earlier… but then they looked at each other. Grif’s arms shifted, now one was under Simmons, supporting him. The other slid up his back, between his shoulders. Simmons kept giggling, leaning back and completely trusting that Grif would hold him up, now slightly hugging Grif with his legs, his hands kneading into Grif’s shoulders. As Grif stared at Simmons’ face, noticing all sorts of little details (the way his organic eye seemed to be lit up with excitement right now, the way he was biting the corner of his lower lip as he smiled, the way his nose wrinkled in an entirely too adorable way each time he quietly snorted with laughter), something happened; Grif felt his mouth water, like it did when he was ready to eat something he knew would be delicious (like his favorite kind of milk chocolate).

He mentally told himself he better swallow all this extra saliva fast, because he was definitely about to kiss Simmons. If he wasn’t careful, a waterfall of drool would pour out of his mouth when he parted his lips, which Simmons would NOT enjoy, and then Grif would have to kill himself, because how pathetic was it to finally start dating the dude you’ve been pining after for about 12 years only to drown him in spit the same day, HORRIBLY pathetic, there was no recovery from that, Grif would simply have to not be alive anymore, and why the hell was this even HAPPENING, Simmons wasn’t CHOCOLATE, why was Grif like this, why was his brain so stupid, why was his MOUTH so stupid, why why WHY-

He gulped just in time. Now it was Simmons’ turn to pounce on Grif, hands slipping up into Grif’s hair, making a soft little sigh as Grif kissed him back.

This was… this was the first time since their conversation about being in love and deciding to date that they were… out of their armor (mostly). The first time they could press their bodies close together and actually FEEL each other. Grif forgot all about the way the muscles in his legs were twitching and ignored the way his lungs burned after all the running… his attention was on Simmons. It was pretty clear that Simmons was also entirely focused on Grif. After a moment, they moved their mouths away from each other, and Grif laughed as his face was peppered with more little kisses, stumbling across the tiny room while trying to find a spot to set Simmons down. He finally leaned Simmons over his own bed, letting him drop onto the mattress. It was a sudden motion, but Simmons didn’t go far, and he kept making amused humming sounds as he bounced when he hit the bed.

“You’d better get the rest of your armor off. Unless you want to sleep in it again,” he told Grif.

“Yeah, that uh… that’s probably a good idea… I’ll do that…” Grif said, feeling light-headed (and once more filled with butterflies).

He was fairly certain Simmons had no clue what he was doing right now… no clue how GOOD he looked, leaning back across the bed, propping himself up with his elbows, hair tousled and messy in kind of a really great way, looking up at Grif so intently, face flushed… all while Grif stood in front of him, stood right between Simmons’ legs that bent over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor… and LITERALLY told Grif to undress. No, Simmons had no clue what he was doing, OR what it was doing to Grif.

Grif stepped back, going over to his bed on the other side of the room (barely 5 feet away). He wasn’t sure if Simmons was going to watch him the whole time he changed… it shouldn’t be so embarrassing; they’d changed in the same room like, a thousand times. They’d shared showers together from training days, to Blood Gulch, and almost every place they stayed (Simmons was always the nervous one about that, making such a big deal about NOT LOOKING or avoiding being LOOKED AT). This was a little different now, though… boyfriends. They were BOYFRIENDS. Grif was suddenly very AWARE of this fact. Grif was also aware that the last time they actually gotten undressed around each other and... and touched... was Chorus (and THAT had all sorts of complicated feelings attached to it, which Grif was in no mood to try and process at the moment, nope).

#writing #red vs blue #dexter grif #dick simmons #grimmons

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

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Timeout - Part 2

Pairing: Kageyama x Reader

Genre/Warning: Yandere, Unhealthily controlling behavior, Toxic Relationships, Isolation

Summary: Kageyama just wants to take care of you, so why won’t you just behave?

Requested by Anon

Part 1

You don’t see the basement ever again and your night there fades from your mind like a bad dream as Kageyama and you fall back into a comfortable cadence together. You love him with all your heart, you truly do. You love going on jogs with him even as your legs tremble from exertion and sweat glistens your brows. You love watching his eyes light up in excitement as he sets perfectly to Ushijima and turns to you with a wide grin on his face after his team scores a point. You love watching his brows wrinkle in concentration as he takes painstaking care to cook both of you a healthy meal. But even as you smile fondly at the sleeping figure next to you and trace random designs on his rising and falling chest at night when the two of you lay in bed, there’s a slight pang in your heart as your thighs clench and you wistfully think of the last time the two of you had made love. It seems so long ago and you can’t even clearly remember the last time the two of you had even kissed. Sure, he lets you hold his calloused hands as much as you want and allows himself to be drawn into your embrace, but it’s not enough. Surely there’s nothing wrong, nothing disgusting about you wanting more physical intimacy with your long-term boyfriend that you share a home with, right? But Kageyama’s always been strict and restrained when it comes to all types of pleasure and in turn, he holds you to the same restrictions, making sure neither of you become too self-indulgent.

You try to push it to the back of your mind, successfully laying it to rest as you enjoy the time you spend with your lover. You don’t necessarily agree with Kageyama on everything, but you know everything he says and does comes out of love and care for you and if the only penalty is less sex and a little less freedom, so be it. Every day feels like a routine and at first you fidget and itch for more, but you quickly settle into the comfortable monotony of your shared life, finding tranquility in the steady and constant flow. Which is why you’re startled to say the least when you’ve already got your bags packed, ready to tag along with Kageyama as his team travels for an away game this weekend, but Kageyama just smiles at you and tells you to put away your things.

“You’ve been so good recently that I figured you might like some alone time to catch up and hang out with your girlfriends. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen them, right?”

Confused, but excited, you eagerly nod and Kageyama’s heart warms at the way your eyes sparkle. He’d have to thank Hinata for the idea later. Unknown to you, the two had briefly ran into each other and caught up, sharing about their relationships and he’d been surprised when Hinata had casually mentioned that his girlfriend was out of town, spending the week away with some friends and having a “girl’s trip”. He found the idea of you being away from him for so long with people he didn’t know very well unsettling, but as Hinata continued to rave about how healthy it was to have some time apart and how nice it was to have your own same gender friends to chat with, he pondered the idea more. Hinata certainly seemed happy and content with his relationship. Maybe there’s something to be said about this crazy idea after all.

But Kageyama’s not nearly as lax as Hinata and there are some rules and agreements set in place before he heads out. Be home by 10pm. Call him when you wake up and before you go to sleep. And the hard rules both of you live by still stand. No drugs. No alcohol. You can’t help but think he sounds even more strict than the summer camps you’d been to as a child and that it seems silly for a woman in her 20s to have a curfew, but your excitement at being able to hang out with all your girlfriends helps you fling those thoughts to the side as you hurriedly rush to your phone and message your friends.

Kageyama didn’t have anything against your friends, but he was insistent on the two of you always being together in your free time, leaving little room for you see you friends in person, so your phone explodes with messages as your friends quickly eat up the opportunity to have a long overdue girls weekend with you. That Friday night, despite the fact that the bed is colder than usual and overwhelmingly large without Kageyama’s presence beside you, you fall asleep with a smile on your face, your heart warm and aflutter at the prospect of seeing your dearest friends for the first time in ages.

The sun has barely risen, but you’re already wide awake and scouring your closet for the perfect outfit to wear, finally settling on a sweater and jeans paired with a strappy set of heels you know Kageyama disapproves of, always worried that you might twist your ankle. But today’s a special day and you know for a fact that these heels make your ass and legs look amazing. The morning flies by as you prance around the empty house to an upbeat playlist, going through your skincare routine and applying makeup for the first time in months. You usually save it for special occasions and date nights, but when Kageyama had realized how unhealthy restaurant food was, eating out became a thing of the past and the two of you mostly stayed at home becoming homebodies. Satisfied with your appearance you make your way to the restaurant your friends had chosen for brunch and after a flurry of warm hugs and giddy greetings, all of you sit down and peruse the menu.

Your friends gleefully look over the brunch cocktails and look at you in surprise when you order a cup of coffee instead. It’s such a different choice than the college senior partier in you would have made all those years ago, but when they question you about it, you just laugh it off and tell them Kageyama doesn’t approve of drinking, so you’d cut it out of your life after the two of you started dating. A knot forms in your stomach at the concerned looks they send your way and share among each other and you try to assure them that it’s fine, completely normal couple behavior, but they aren’t having any of your excuses and the knot tightens as their interrogation continues.

“He doesn’t let you drink at all?”

“He monitors and controls everything you eat?”

“He times how long you sleep for every night?”

“You guys haven’t had sex in months?”

You slap a hand over your friend’s mouth as that scandalous question comes out louder than intended, but you bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod in response and you can feel warmth rising to your face as tears threaten to overflow from the looks of pity being directed at you. The friend whose mouth you’re still covering gently holds your hand on her face and brings it into her lap before quietly asking, “Is Kageyama also the reason we never see you anymore?” and that’s all it takes for you to quietly sob when realization hits you and you see Kageyama’s toxic control for what it is. And yet, a small part of you can’t help but defend him, and you try to reason with your friends, telling them that he doesn’t mean for any of it to be toxic, he doesn’t mean to be a control freak. He just does these things because he cares, but your words fall flat even to your own ears as you suddenly vividly remember the cold, lonely night in that basement. Your eyes narrow and you sharply wave to a nearby waiter.

“Let’s change that coffee to a mimosa.”

You’re all successful career-oriented women and yet, all it takes is a few, okay maybe more than just a few, rounds of drinks for all of you to feel like you’re back to your senior college days and you’re having the time of your life. Your belly is aching from how hard you’re laughing and there’s a constant buzz in your body, in your soul as the alcohol takes effect and you can’t stop the loopy smile on your face. You don’t remember who was the ringleader, but all of you somehow find yourselves shopping for clubbing outfits as you get roped into a girl’s night out and as you stare at your reflection in a changing room mirror, pleased by the way the strappy number highlights your curves and barely covers your chest and ass, you briefly worry about Kageyama’s reaction to you being out so late and drinking, but you scoff, empowered by the liquid courage running within you and your re-found confidence.

The night is a blur of shots and dancing. Your tolerance for alcohol is barely existent and you don’t remember much other than your feet aching from standing on your heels all night, being sandwiched between your girlfriends on the dance floor, and a jolt of irritation at feeling your phone continuously vibrate as Kageyama tried to reach you. Yet somehow you make it safely back home and you promptly collapse on the soft sheets, not bothering to remove your makeup, clothes, or shoes as you fall into a deep slumber.

You wake up hours later with a groan, a raging headache pounding at your temples as the sunlight begins to filter in through the windows. You groggily sit up and attempt to get out of bed to completely shut the window blinds when you freeze as you lock gazes with cold blue eyes. Nauseous, completely sober, and still dazed from exhaustion, you tremble as Kageyama continues furiously scowling at you, unable to muster even an ounce of the courage you had yesterday.

“32 missed calls. 53 unanswered texts. And 1 response from you, finally.”

Your heart sinks at the photo on his phone and you can only stutter incoherently at the hazy photo your friend had taken of you with a drink in your hand and the middle finger flipped at the camera. You finally try to explain that it was just a joke, that you had too much to drink, but you’re caught off by more harsh words.

“I try to do something nice for you and what do you do? Go against the few rules I gave you and mock me to my face.”

You scramble towards him, momentarily forgetting about the heels still on your feet and you stumble to the floor as he grabs your phone and clutches it tightly in his grip.

“Wait, Tobio. I’m sorry! Don’t take away my phone. How would I even message or call you?”

“You don’t need to message or call me, not when I know where you are 24/7.”

And you flinch. You flinch at the sound of your phone being crushed to pieces, crushed beyond repair as his foot repeatedly stomps on it. You flinch at the look of cold indifference he pins you down with as you scream for him to stop, scream out apology after apology. You flinch at the feeling of his hand roughly grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the room you’d desperately tried to forget. You flinch at the biting cold of metal encasing your body as he chains you up once more. And finally you bitterly sob as he walks away from your bound body, turns off the light, and closes the door with a resounding bang, leaving you alone in the dark and isolated prison with no intention to release you anytime soon.

#haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu #kageyama x reader #yandere kageyama

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whitestaghere · 4 years ago

Text

Love finds a way - Edmund Pevensie x reader (one shot)

Thought I'd do a one shot for Edmund. I know its not been that long, but I missed writing again. I hope you all enjoy this! ❤️

Warnings :- none

Fluff 💕

Late. That's what I was. Late.

I was running as fast as my legs could take me. My friends and I had planned a picnic since it was finally the weekend. And today of all days, I just HAD to wake up late.

Finally arriving at the park I bent down hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

Looking around I tried to spot my friends.

"Y/N!! OVER HEREEE!!!" I glanced behind me, to see my friends waving me over.

Jogging upto them I gave them a lazy smile.

"Hey y/n!!" Julie chirped, skipping towards me and pulling me into her embrace.

"Wow... well somebody looks like she ran the Olympics," Kyle laughed. "And look those eye bags."

I rolled my eyes taking a seat next to him, "oh why don't you just shut up." At this he poked my side. "Hey don't snap at me! I was just messing around y/nnn!!" he whined flinging his arm over my shoulder. Lips in a pout. I couldn't help but laugh ruffling his hair.

Julie gave me a soft smile, "had a long night?" I nodded my head in response. She scooted next to me leaning her head on my shoulder, "don't overwork yourself sweetie." By now, the two knew me like an open book. So it was easy for them to know how I feel in just seconds.

Kyle nudged me, "yes, it's the weekend! Lighten up girl! We're free from school work and you, from the student council. Now it's just time for you, me and Julie."

He interlocked hands with mine and Julie. I smiled, "thank you.. you always know how to cheer me up." Honestly I couldn't be more thankful.

Julie pinched my cheek scooting in front of us, "so what do you guys want to do??"

I shrugged. "I'm hungry.." I eyed Kyle who was rubbing his stomach.

Julie furrowed her eyebrows, "Seriously? Kyle, we just got here and the first thing you want to do is eat??

"Well, I don't know Jules!! It's called a picnic for a reason you know? You come and you eat. By the way, where is the food?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You don't just come and eat!! The food will be brought out at the right time!" she snapped back.

This was not anything new of course. It was part of our friendship to argue like this. It was obviously all fun and jokes. I smiled to myself, watching my friends bicker. That is, until someone else caught my attention.

To be more precise, him.

And by him I mean Edmund. I had got to know him through Kyle and ended up catching feelings for the boy.

Kyle on the other hand predicted this would happen and was literally celebrating the day I admitted it. But even though I had met him a couple of times, we had never really had a proper conversation apart from the regular 'hi's and byes'.

Well back to the present situation. He was sitting a little further away from our spot, along with his mother and his siblings; clad in a pale blue shirt and brown jeans. Short brown wavy locks blowing lightly in the wind.

He began to laugh at something someone said and oh God was it adorable. I couldn't take my eyes off him, not that this was anything new. I was so busy admiring him, I hadn't even realised that my friends had stopped their bickering trying to grab my attention.

I only snapped back into my senses the second the the boy locked eyes with mine. He gave me a soft smile waving at me and for some reason I looked away at once, feeling the heat rise upto my cheeks. Facepalm.

Y/n you're supposed to wave back.

"Y/N?" Julie placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Huh, yes? I'm sorry I-I umm" I cleared my throat, "I wasn't following.." My gaze instinctively flickering towards his direction and back at my friends.

This of course not going unnoticed by them. Specially Julie, as she was sitting right infront of me.

Following my gaze she looked back at me with a smirk, "oh I see what's going on here."

Oh no.

Kyle glanced between us tilting his head in confusion, "I- I don't think I'm following.."

Julie chuckled shuffling to the side to give Kyle a proper view, not so subtly pointing towards him. Now realising what was going on, the once confused look was replaced with a sly grin.

He eyed me wiggling his eyebrows, "ooh lala.. I didn't know Edmund was here." The two exchanged mischievous looks. I had mentally prepared myself for the teasing already.

"Oh y/n... this is just ridiculous! Would you just stop staring at him like that and just go talk to him for once?" Julie nudged me.

"She's right you know.. you've been crushing on him for ages now. And all you do is stare. Try to make conversation!" I could only look down in embarrassment, blushing wildly. Normally I'd brush it off, but now that he's right there I just can't.

"Y/N! HE'S LOOKING THIS WAY!" Kyle whisper-yelled waving at them.

Almost immediately my eyes shifted back towards him. He was indeed looking this way, my gaze locking with his. This time mustering all the courage in my body I waved back at him, to which he returned a smile.

"Awww," Kyle poked my cheeks. "Our little y/n is in loooooove!!!"

Julie scooted over next to Kyle grabbing his hands, "don't do that Kyle!! He might get the wrong idea and think you both are a thing." He widened his eyes and dramatically pulled away.

"Oh come on you guys.. don't be silly," I mumbled under my breath but loud enough for them to hear.

"What do you mean don't be silly?" Kyle raised his eyebrows. "You can't fool us, we know you're totally whipped for the boy!"

"What? NO! That's ridiculous.. I-I- he doesn't even know me to begin with."

"Yeah you know that won't work anymore since you said it yourself that you like him.." Kyle grinned.

"And not all love stories begin with two people knowing eachother you know?" My face began to heat up at the mention of 'love'. Julie continued. "Also come on, it's so obvious he likes you too."

"Does not.." I sighed.

"OF COURSE HE DOES! Have you noticed the million times the boy tries to make conversation with you and how he looks at you?! Only for you to be a coward and find someway to avoid him. Don't even make me bring back the school talent show incident."

I shuddered just hearing her say it.

>> Flashback <<

The school's annual talent show.

My friends and I were performing a song, and Julie just had to suggest that we wear heels. Me being the person who had never worn heels before, tried my best not to fall face forward. But I suppose luck was just not on my side today.

Kyle had helped me backstage, way before the event even began. Which I found a little wierd, since there was so much time and I could've just stayed in the waiting room. He held my hand all the way so he could keep me from tripping.

The day before the show, I had been ranting about how excited I was to see Edmund, and that's when Kyle had got a little idea at the back of his mind.

That leaves us here; we were backstage. "Thank you Kyle.." he smiled at me. "Anything for my beautiful best friend." I blushed at his words nudging him, "oh shush.."

He smirked at me.

"Umm.. Kyle? W-whats with that look?" he laughed, "I'm supposing someone would be really happy to see you today."

That's when it clicked me. This is why he brought me here this early. Heart beginning to race, I scanned my surroundings immediately and that's when I spotted him.

Oh lord.

Edmund smiled making his way towards us. I gasped and quickly began working on an escape plan. Seeing the back door just on Kyle's opposite, I decided to make a run for it. I was just too shy.

"Hey Kyle, hey Y/N!"

"Oh hey Ed! Y/N was just waiting to see yo-" Kyle trailed off processing the situation, "Y/N NOOO!! COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Yep. I made a run for it.

But remember when I said luck wasn't on my side today? Well yes, I managed to trip. I guess I kind of expected this; because how could a person who has never walked in heels before, ever be able to run in them?

I tripped and toppled over into a basket of clothes. Thank god it was big enough, or else who knows what worse things would've happened.

Kyle running upto me and helping me up while Edmund made his way towards us. I could hear the children around me laughing. All I could do was look away in embarrassment. Kicking off my heels I pushed past Kyle before Ed could reach us and rushed out of the hall. Oh that is, before glaring at Kyle.

End of flashback

Julie leaned back to the tree, "I don't see the point of you looking at eachother but not making a move for it." Kyle nodded in agreement, "though Edmund is trying.."

I looked back in his direction. I've got to admit, she does have a point. But I guess this comes with my anxiety. The reason why I cannot resist getting embarrassed and trying to run away. Thinking I'd get flustered, say something dumb and make a fool of myself.

Kyle abruptly stood up, waving at them. "Let's go over to them."

They looked our way waving at us.

Oh no. This is not good.

Peter, the oldest, stood up immediately motioning them to follow him. He began to jog in our direction, Edmund right at his feet.

Feeling like my heart would rip out of my chest I stood up by instinct only to be pulled back by Kyle. Giving me a devilish smirk he whispered into my ear, "oh no y/n.. not this time."

"Hey there!" Peter exclaimed. "We didn't notice you lot here until Edmund told us."

Kyle laughed, "neither did we.. it's great to see you all here." The boys busy engaging in a conversation of their own, I tried to keep my eyes away Edmund.

Lucy and Susan waved at Julie and I, coming over to start up a conversation. While talking I couldn't help but notice Edmund, Peter and Kyle sneaking glances in my direction. I was fighting to hold back the blush rising upto my cheeks. Deciding to brush it off, I listened to what the girls had to say.

"It's so great to see you after so long y/n!" Lucy gave me a hug. Hugging her back I smiled softly, "I'm sorry I couldn't come see you both sooner.. my schedules been so packed lately."

Susan nodded her head, "I heard. The student council has a lot of work going on at the moment." She placed a hand on my shoulder giving me a warm smile, "don't stress yourself y/n.."

Susan and Lu have always been like sisters to me even though I wasn't that close to Peter and Edmund. Hearing Susan's words really made me feel so much better.

A short timeskip (😂) >>>

"Excuse me girls, Y/n.. could I have a word with you?" Kyle interrupted. I nodded my head excusing myself and following him.

"Where are we going Kyle?"

He kept silent eyes focused ahead of him.

"Kyle???" I grabbed onto his arm, "where are you taking meee??" I whined.

"Just follow me.. I have something to tell you," I noticed how he tried to hold back a smile.

Walking further away from our friends we stopped by the water fountain. "Did we have to come this far?" He swiftly turned around to face me at once giving me a sharp gaze; me jumping back in shock at the action.

"Edmund likes you."

"What?" Did I just hear him say what I think he said? I'm pretty sure I'm just hearing things now. Maybe it's because Edmund was with us.

"Edmund likes you," he repeated emphasising his words. I scanned his face trying to see if he was joking or not.

He had to be messing with me right now. There's no way Edmund would like me.

I faked a laugh at him rolling my eyes, "haha very funny.."

"Y/n I'm not joking okay? He told me.. he really did," Kyle looked at me with a straight face. It looked rather believable but what if he was just joking?

Okay I can't take this anymore. At this point, he's messing with my feelings.

"Listen, Kyle.. I'm not buying this okay? If this is your way in pulling a prank on me. I'm not listening." Not wanting to hear anymore of this I turned around, getting ready to leave. But a strong grip on my wrist held me from leaving.

"Kyle no..." I trailed off, turning around to face him I widened my eyes in shock.

Now in Kyle's place stood Edmund.

I jumped backwards letting out a little yelp, "Edmund I-I." Looking around me I saw that Kyle had made his way away from us; pulling a thumbs up at me. I did not expect this.

"Y/N?" feeling my face heat up, I reluctantly shifted my gaze to Edmund. My eyes connecting with those chocolate brown eyes. My throat suddenly went dry.

The situation I was in, made my heart pound against my chest so hard. My crush was standing infront of me and what made me even more flustered? He was holding my hand. And boy were his hands soft.

It took everything in me not to go intertwining our hands together.

"Y-yeah?"

"Y/N, is it true?"

I gulped, "sorry I-I don't think I'm following?" Of course I knew what he was talking about.

"That you like me?" the expression on his face unreadable. I couldn't tell if he was going to be mad at me or happy. He looked at me with his piercing gaze, clearly waiting for an answer.

I can't lie to him.

I don't want to lie to him. I want him to know how I feel. But at the same time, I was scared that maybe Kyle was joking and this was all a prank. And I don't want to lose what Edmund and I have right now.

But my feelings decided to take over.

"I-I... please don't be mad at me. Umm.. yes it's true," I looked down at my hands, not wanting to meet his eyes. Nothing. No response. I knew it, it was too good to be true. All I wanted to do right now was go home and lock myself in my room. I wanted to cry so bad.

"I'm sorry. I-I have to go.." voice cracking. Once again, turning on my heels I walked away from him.

I expected him to hold me back. But no. My vision became blurry with the tears threatening to fall. I knew it. He didn't feel the same.

Just when my tears began streaming down uncontrollably, I bumped into something.

Oh great. Now you have to embarrass yourself infront of him too. I stumbled back losing my balance, bracing for the impact of the hard ground.

Only, I didn't feel anything. No pain.

I slowly opened my eyes, locking eyes with none other than Edmund. I gasped. Apparently, the something I had bumped into, was him. He had managed to wrap his arms around my waist, holding me steady.

Slowly helping me up he averted his gaze scratching the nape of his neck.

"Thank you.." I mumbled looking at my feet.

Suddenly I felt his large hands cup my cheeks, wiping my tears away.

"Y/n.." he whispered.

I looked back at him, his gaze so soft.

"Edmund I'm so sorry.."

"No no shh.. don't be sorry, what do you have to be sorry about?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but he gently placed his index finger on my lips. I felt like my heart would explode at this point.

"Y/n, I'm sorry I let you walk away like that. I just.. I couldn't believe it. That you actually like me."

I tilted my head in confusion.

He chuckled softly, "Y/N I like you too. Heck with it, I think I just might be in love with you."

Okay now I'm sure I was hearing things.

"R-really?" pinching myself just to make sure I wasn't dreaming, I whinced.

He chuckled. Nodding his head smiling softly, "I always have. Since the day Kyle introduced us. I felt so comfortable around you. I.." he took a deep breath, "I kept my feelings to myself because I thought you didn't feel the same. I was afraid of the rejection."

"Why would you think I'd reject you? "

He laughed, "well.. everytime I'd try to talk to you, you would run away."

At that, Julie came into my head. She had told me exactly that. I felt a pang of guilt. That was on me.

"I'm sorry.. I really like you too Ed. I was just so scared you know?"

Now it was his turn to look at me in confusion, "scared of what?"

I sighed, "I wanted to make a first good impression, I thought I'd make a fool of myself infront of you.."

He hummed, "well forget that now. You don't need to worry about making a good first impression on me anymore. Because I think you're just amazing." I felt my cheeks heat up once again.

"Y/N?"

"Yes Ed?"

"Since the feelings are mutual, would you do me the honour and let me court you?" I smiled nodding my head. My heart was fluttering with joy.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him and into his embrace, "finally.. I can do this and call you mine. I love you y/n."

Wrapping my arms around him I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck, "I love you too Ed."

Pulling away I giggled. I was so happy. The moment I had been dreaming of for so long, finally came true.

Gazing into each others eyes we burst into giggles. "You don't know how happy I am right now," Edmund mumbled, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Oh would you both cut with the cute talk and kiss already?!" Peter yelled suddenly. We were so caught up in the moment we hadn't even noticed our little audience.

Lucy was squealing in joy while the others were giving us knowing looks. Like they knew this was going to happen all along. Which they actually did. Kyle winking at me, I really have to thank the guy I thought.

I turned back to face Edmund, who had his eyes on me already.

He cleared his throat, "c-can I?" He looked so flustered. Giggling I stood on my toes pecking his lips. When I pulled away I couldn't resist the urge to laugh.

His lips parted, eyes wide and pupils dilated. And the next minute he leaned down locking our lips together once again the two of us smiling into the kiss.

Well what do you know? Love finds a way..

Hey there everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this! Please send in requests guys, my inbox literally has flies in it 😂❤️

Love you all and stay safe ❤️

#edmund pevensie #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie imagine #king edmund #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #prince caspian #narnia aslan #narnia #chronicles of narnia

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nerdypanda3126 · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats on the 100 followers! Could you do "my clothes look really good on you" for Lukanette Please?

Thank you for the ask, anon! I didn’t end up getting the exact dialogue in there, but your prompt did give me an excuse to use You Look Good in My Shirt by Keith Urban, which has been sitting in my fic playlist for forever now. Hope you like it!!

You Look Good in My Shirt

Read on Ao3

Luka had his eyes closed and his head leaned back against the airport seat as he tapped his foot to the music blaring in his headphones. His flight back to Paris from… well, wherever the most recent tour had ended, had been delayed rather indefinitely. He didn’t mind the wait, although the chair underneath him was plastic and hard and small. He shifted to relieve the side of his butt that was asleep.

As he sighed and leaned forward to take his headphones off—the music was good, but he’d been listening to it on a loop for the past hour or so—cool hands slipped over his eyes and a warm, familiar scent wafted around him. Like baked sugar. Marinette.

“Guess who,” she said with a giggle. As if he didn’t know that melody anywhere.

“Jagged, is that you?” He grinned at his own joke.

She imitated a buzzer and moved to his other ear. “Guess again.”

“Uhhh… Penny?”

“Nope.”

She leaned in and kissed his cheek underneath her hands. He pulled her hands off his eyes and found her resting her cheek against his shoulder fondly. Her dark hair was longer now—it fell across the back of the seat next to him. He could still see the pink tipped ends from when she’d dyed it. God, that was forever ago. Back when they had first started dating. But her eyes were still the same beautiful, clear blue.

“I’m disappointed, Luka, really.” She pretended to pout. “Those headphones must be ruining your hearing.”

“What are you doing here?” he countered as he rubbed his thumb across hers. “I thought you were in London.”

“This is London, silly.” She kissed his cheek again and slid around him to sit next to him. “I thought you were in America.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“Well, good we cleared that up.” He’d forgotten how devilish her grin could be when she wanted it to be. “I heard your tour went well.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter when her thigh pressed against his. “Yeah, it did.”

“Well, how long are you in London?”

“Just…” He gestured to the flight board. “Just until my flight leaves. For Paris.”

“Oh. Me, too. Going home to see the folks, you know how it is.”

As they watched, the board changed. The flight wasn’t leaving until tomorrow. They shared a sideways glance.

“Coffee?” she asked, pointing over to the pitiful 24/7 kiosk that was set up near the gate.

“Sure.”

He stood and gathered his bag and his guitar case before she grabbed his hand and tugged him across the room.

***

He pressed his hand to his lips to hold his coffee in as he laughed mid-drink to Marinette’s story. Thankfully it didn’t come out his nose, but he still set the cup down as a precaution.

“So I’ve got this model, standing stark naked in the middle of everything, her hair and makeup completely done—like a bird’s nest, what was I even thinking?—and I’m hand sewing this hem like a madwoman, cursing everything in the near vicinity, and who should walk up, but poor, defenseless Adrien.”

“Oh, I bet that went well,” he muttered, grinning down at his cup as he pictured Adrien, the pure ray of sunshine, at the back end of Marinette’s unbridled stage rage. He had a tendency of making jokes when she was stressed, trying to lighten her mood, no doubt, but it almost always backfired on him.

“He chucked a fistful of glitter at me!” She mimed the action and Luka almost lost it again. “Like, stuck his hand in this box full of glitter—Heaven knows why he even had it—pulled it back out, and puff! A cloud just settles all over me. And more importantly, all over the gown.”

“And then he ran like hell?”

“And then he ran like hell.” Marinette agreed, grinning. “I have to admit, as far as defusing my moods goes, the glitter bomb was an unexpected win for him.”

Luka shifted forward and wrapped his hands around his cup, still chuckling. “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”

She paused, and when he glanced up she was watching him curiously. “What about you?” she asked, and there was an intensity behind her voice that he couldn’t place. “Has anything… changed?”

Ah. So that was it. He swirled his coffee in his cup and tried to ignore his hammering heart. “No, nothing’s changed,” he admitted quietly.

There was another pause between them. Luka focused on the steam still dwindling from his cup as he thought back to the last time he’d seen her. With tears in those beautiful blue eyes as she turned to wave at him before she boarded the plane. Nothing had changed for them. Not since they’d decided to break up almost three years ago.

The official reason was they’d gone their separate ways to follow their separate dreams. His took him touring all over the world. Hers had her at the head of a major fashion house in London, traveling to various other fashion capitals and running shows with Adrien following like a lovesick puppy behind her the whole way. She’d called him jealous. He’d called her selfish. Those were words he could never take back.

When the smoke had cleared, they’d taken a long, even look at one another. And walked away.

He still loved her. Of course he did. He'd spent three years trying to get her out of his head unsuccessfully. And now she was in front of him and he was stuck in London for the night.

He glanced up at her again and she was contemplating her own coffee.

"Me, too," she murmured.

***

He didn't quite know how it happened. He'd walked her home, fully intending on finding himself a hotel for the night, and then his back was pushed up against her door and her lips were locked firmly on his as she pressed herself against him.

She broke away, panting. "Do you want to come in?"

As an answer, he leaned down to kiss her again and started stripping off his leather jacket.

***

He woke up the next morning alone in Marinette’s bed, although something from the direction of the kitchen smelled amazing. He tugged his jeans on and ventured out of her bedroom to find her at the stove, flipping an omelet expertly, wearing nothing but his shirt from last night. He drank in the image; the hemline fell just below the round curve of her ass and made her shapely legs look miles long. He’d missed this.

“Since when are you an early riser?” he asked before a yawn overtook him.

She started at his voice, then pouted. “I was hoping it’d be done by the time you got up.”

He dared to stand behind her and wrap his arms around her waist before he kissed her cheek fondly. “Mmm... I wake up faster when a home cooked meal is involved.”

“I thought you’d like some breakfast before our flight.” She giggled as he started to trail kisses down her neck and swatted him away playfully. “None of that, Rockstar. Hot things.” She gestured with her spatula to the stovetop and shooed him away. He laughed before he kissed her one more time behind her ear.

“Speaking of hot things…” he whispered in her ear. A shiver ran through her and he smiled against her skin. “My clothes always did look better on you.”

She turned her head to meet his lips over her shoulder. His hands wandered down her sides and tightened at her hips, pulling her backwards into him. She whined into his kiss before she turned fully around to wrap her arms around his neck. He leaned back against the counter and pulled her in between his legs, still kissing her fiercely. God, he’d missed her.

She broke away from him suddenly with a squeak and turned back to the stove to find her eggs curling at the sides of the pan as they overcooked. She tipped the omelet off onto a plate and shoved it at him, pouting.

“This one’s yours, since you’re responsible.”

“As if your overcooked eggs don’t still blow hotel food out of the water.” He smirked and took the plate and she handed him a fork. He stood behind her, eating quietly, as she worked on a second one for her.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started. He paused to look up at her. She was swirling the eggs around the pan thoughtfully, scrambling them for herself instead of making an omelet. “I mean, I know it’s been a while. But last night…”

“We don’t have to figure everything out, now, Mari,” he said gently.

“Well, it’s not like anything has really changed, has it? I’m still here and you’re still everywhere else.”

Even though she wasn’t facing him, he could practically hear her brow furrowing. He finished his eggs and set his plate down behind him before he crossed his arms. “It’s not impossible.”

“You say that like you’ve thought about it, too.”

He hummed and reached out to caress her hip again. “Maybe I have.”

She half-turned before she remembered herself and scraped her eggs out of the pan and turned the stove off.

“It’s been three years, Mari. I haven’t stopped thinking of you for one second.”

“I’m still working with Adrien.” She stabbed her fork into her eggs with a little more force than necessary and he winced at her bitter tone.

“I wasn’t jealous of him,” he said quietly.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, yes, I was, but not for the reason you might think.”

She paused and reached out to tap her bare foot against his. An old signal they’d used to tell each other they were listening, they were there for the other. He smiled at her acknowledgement and took her hands in his.

“I was jealous of how much time he had with you.” Her eyebrow quirked up in a silent question. He looked down at their joined hands as he continued. “Not that I thought he’d ever take advantage of that, or try anything. But I wanted to be here with you. You know that, right? I wanted to be the one backstage with you, standing by your side while you realized your dream. It hurt to think that someone else had that. Could be that.”

“You had a dream, too, Luka. I couldn’t have stood in the way of that. You would’ve hated me.”

“I could never hate you.”

“Still.” She tipped his chin back up to look in his eyes. “You deserve to have your dream, too.”

“It hasn’t been what I thought it was,” he admitted. “The music, that’s all I ever wanted. The touring, the fans, the hotels, the planes… it gets to be a little too much sometimes.”

“You sound like Adrien, now.” A smile was tugging at her lips. At the irony, he supposed. “That’s why he wanted to be behind the scenes. Out of the public eye, while he recovered from… well, you know.” She dropped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Turns out he’s really good at it. Besides throwing glitter and making awful puns… he’s really good at it.”

“I’m glad he’s been there for you.”

“Liar,” she said, her grin becoming devilish again. “You can’t tell me you’re suddenly okay with him being my right hand man.”

“I’ve had three years to think about it, Mari. Three years to wish I could take back everything I said.” He sighed. “Even if it wasn’t me, I’m glad you had someone there for you. And that’s the truth.”

She hummed and swung their hands between them before she turned to start eating her cooling plate of eggs. He waited, leaned back against her counter, arms crossed across his chest, for her to consider.

“So, if it’s not impossible,” she started in between bites. “What would this look like, do you think?”

“This?”

“Us. You and me. Trying again. You with your touring and me with my shows. You said you’ve thought about it. How do you think it would work?”

His breath left him and he ran his hand through his hair. This was the last thing he’d expected when he booked this flight. “Um, I book every possible tour in London.”

She nodded. “That’s a good start.”

“Video chats whenever I’m away. Every night if we can manage it.”

She tapped her fork against her lips as she hummed in thought. “What about my parents?”

“What about your parents?”

“Well, they’ll want to know, and I’m sure Juleka will, too, if not the Captain, why we should do this again after all the heartbreak from the first time around.”

A shard of glass spiked through his heart thinking of Marinette being heartbroken because of him. She was right, though, Juleka would tear him a new one when she found out he was dumb enough to put himself through this again. And the death glare he would no doubt get from Tom—scratch that, Sabine— was shudder-inducing. An idea struck him and he stepped forward to put his hands on her hips.

“You said you’re going to see them?”

“That’s the plan.”

“How about I come with you?” Her back stiffened before she turned to face him again. He shrugged. “Let’s face it head on, together.”

“If you’re coming to see my parents, there had better be a baby or a ring on my finger before they’ll even consider letting you off the hook.”

“Well, one of those is doable before we get on our flight.” He raised his eyebrows. She shoved his shoulder and blushed. He laughed and corrected himself. “The ring. We can get you a ring.”

Her blush hadn’t faded, but she rolled her eyes and she was giving him that smile that meant she was trying not to be pleased. “You did not just propose to me like that.”

“Technically, you proposed for me.” He smirked and leaned down close enough to kiss her, although he held back, pausing an inch or so away from her lips, waiting for her to meet him. “It was your idea, after all,” he whispered.

He didn’t have to wait long before she pushed up on her toes to press her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her back to support her, leaning back against the counter to let her fall into him before she broke away and slid down to touch her toes back to the floor.

“This is crazy,” she muttered, grinning. “It’ll never work.”

“Well, maybe it’s a little too soon to know if it’ll work or not.”

He laughed as she trod on his foot a little harder than necessary. “You weren’t supposed to agree with me, you jerk!”

He was still laughing, but he managed to wrangle his expression back to a halfway serious one. “Look, all I know, is you look amazing in my shirt.” He ran his fingers along the hem behind her to prove his point and she flushed a bright crimson. “And I’d love to see you in it every morning from now on.” He raised his eyebrows and the grin she was giving him rivaled his own. “Marry me, Marinette. Make an honest rock star out of me.”

She rolled her eyes at him again. “That’s impossible,” she said. Her grin slid sideways and became that devilish one that turned him into jello in her hands. “But I can certainly try.”

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fic #ml fic #lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #aged up characters #luck of the draw

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