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vennilavee · 4 years

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the soul of a flame - ch 1

the spark

pairing: levi x reader of color

summary: levi follows his squad to a new bar called the silver sapphire and finds you, a pretty girl with a knack for making drinks.

warnings: alcohol, cursing

word count: 2022

a/n: reader is a reader of color because that's how it's going to be. if i feel like i cant relate with some of the fics posted here/ao3 bc of obvious physical attributes assigned to reader, then im sure many others feel the same as well. ENJOY

***

Levi suspects that his squad is getting shitfaced. Again. It’s only the end of a grueling few weeks after they’ve been appointed to his squad and had to go through a stricter, more regimented version of Cadet training.

It was Levi’s version of training.

He had them training from early hours into the heat of the mid afternoon until the sun began to dip into the sky. They never outwardly complained, not to him at least. They knew better.

Levi had granted them an early evening, to which all four of them had been surprised by-

“What? You four earned it,” Levi says with his arms crossed, “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not a tyrant.”

“Of course not, Captain Levi,” Petra chirps, an always sweet smile on her face.

Oluo elbows her, telling her to stop being such a kiss ass and Petra gapes at him.

“Me? Look at your hair! You can’t even pull off bangs the way Captain Levi can,” She scoffs, arms crossed over her chest.

Levi rolls his eyes, not bothering to conceal the fondness he has for his team.

“Get outta here,” He says not unkindly.

He didn’t think they would end up finding their way to a bar for two nights in a row. They’re getting ready for their third night at the same bar and Levi has to know.

What the hell has gotten into his team?

“Which one of you four idiots is gonna tell me where you’ve been sneaking off to?” Levi asks, appearing suddenly in front of Oluo and Gunther.

“We told you Captain! There’s a bar not too far from here,” Eld says enthusiastically, “There’s a rumor that they make their own alcohol with gold there.”

“Right,” Levi scoffs, “That has to be the only reason why you four come back shitfaced every night. Because of gold.”

“Not me, sir!” Petra protests, earning herself a glare from Oluo.

“Who are you lying to, Petra?” Oluo says, “And it’s not gold, Eld. I hear it’s diamonds and rubies. Sapphires, too.”

“How the fuck do you make alcohol out of diamonds, rubies and sapphires? Do you hear yourselves?” Levi says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That’s what it tastes like, Levi. That’s what her alcohol tastes like,” Gunther says dreamily.

“So which is it? You like the alcohol or you like her?” Levi says, a faint, uncharacteristic teasing in his tone.

“Doesn’t help that she’s very pretty, sir,” Petra says thoughtfully, tapping her chin.

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Levi rolls his eyes, turning his back on his team, “Enjoy. You’re expected to be ready for training at dawn.”

“Yes, sir,” They all chorus while saluting.

“Levi,” Gunther says, “You should come later, if you want. Hange and Mike will be coming later.”

“Tch,” Levi waves him off without another word and Gunther shrugs.

He has better things to do than drink shitty alcohol from a shitty bar with his friends and fellow soldiers.

***

It turns out that Levi in fact, does not have better things to do than drink shitty alcohol from a shitty bar with his friends and fellow soldiers. Hange had convinced him to join them. And her version of convincing had been blackmailing him into holding his most favorite tea leaves hostage and loudly telling him that he needed to get out more often otherwise he’d turn shrivel up and turn into a grump-

“If we hurry and go, we can reverse the process before it’s too late.”

Which is how he found himself walking to the bar that Hange coerced him into going to. It’s called the Silver Sapphire, and honestly, he can’t think of a shittier name for a bar. Sapphires aren’t even silver.

Levi hates any amount of attention on him, and the way the bar goes silent for a moment when all eyes land on him makes his skin crawl. He sits at his own table, away from the ruckus of the other squad leaders and his own team as the noise around him resumes. He fully expects his team to see him and surround him soon.

At least none of the shitty kids were here.

“Captain Levi! You caaaame,” Oluo says, as Petra sits across from him.

“Came to see what all the fuss was about,” Levi shrugs, “And Shitty Glasses decided to hold my tea leaves hostage if I didn’t show up.”

“Orrrr Captain Levi wants to see the pretty bartender,” Petra says in a singsong voice, eyeing him curiously.

Levi lets her have her fun. It puts a smile on her face, so he lets her have it.

“Try some of my earthwater, Captain,” Oluo says, pushing his glass towards Levi.

“I’d rather die by the hands of my own blades than drink anything you’ve put your shitty tongue in, Oluo,” Levi says tonelessly, “Earthwater? What the hell is that?”

“The stuff made of diamonds,” Hange appears from around the corner and sits next to Petra, “You were right, Oluo.”

“Hange,” Levi says curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. Hange lets out a peal of delighted laughter at his irritation.

“Shorty’s upset with me because I told him to get out of his office for the first time all week,” Hange whispers to Petra.

Levi rolls his eyes so far back he’s certain he sees his own skull.

Suddenly, Petra elbows Hange, discreetly looking at the bar and whispering to her with a tipsy giggle. Levi hears Gunther and Oluo sigh like lovestruck fools, even Petra and before he can ask them whether they are soldiers of the Survey Corps or whether they’re idiots in high school-

He sees you making your way to them from behind the bar and can kind of understand why they have hearts in their eyes, and why they’re behaving the way that they are. His own throat is a little dry but he clears it subtly, eyes not leaving you.

“Third night, huh? To what do I owe this pleasure?” You murmur, all smiles and warm, dark eyes. You have a notebook and a pen in your hand to take their orders.

Levi is aware of the intensity of his gaze over you. Your dark green silk shirt is neatly tucked into your black pants that hug your hips and your legs. It’s loose and yet sits on your torso like it was made for you. The dark green is a shade or two darker than the Survey Corps capes, but you wear the color much better than anyone in the Corps ever could. Levi catches a glint of gold at the base of your throat attached to a thread of gold wrapping around the column of your neck. The top two buttons of your shirt unbuttoned carelessly, allowing him a peek of your deep skin glowing with the lights of the bar.

He swallows.

“These four idiots have been raving about your drink, what is it dirtwater?” Levi says tonelessly, “Must be pretty shitty if it’s called dirtwater.”

“It’s called earthwater, actually,” You reply easily but Levi catches the bite in your tone, “You should have one. On the house. It’s my own recipe and maybe it’ll loosen the stick up Captain Levi’s ass a little bit.”

His teammates, all traitors apparently, snicker at your comment.

“Fine,” Levi scoffs, “I’ll have your shitty drink. And what happens when I decide that I don’t like it?”

“That won’t happen,” You wave him away with a smirk across your painted lips, “After all. I made it.”

And with that, you saunter away with the rest of their orders and Levi sinks into his seat imperceptibly.

You look over your shoulder and toss him a reckless wink and a rogue smile. It takes a second for Levi to realize that you’re looking in his direction. He turns his gaze away from you, ignoring the heat creeping up in his neck.

***

The minute you see Levi of the Survey Corps walk into your bar, you know you had to see him up close. You’ve only heard stories about him, rumors mostly. That he’s a well oiled Titan killing machine. That he’d climbed the ranks of the Corps quickly, too quickly. You’ve heard that he’s an Underground kid, and that has your interest piqued.

The entire bar goes silent when he pushes the doors open. Clearly, Captain Levi doesn’t just walk into bars very often. Your eyes immediately shift to the rest of the Corps, in a separate corner of the bar.

He looks disinterested as he observes the bar around him. You have an eye on him, as you do with all your new and high profile customers. You notice how he relaxes in his seat, but he has a watchful eye on his surroundings, too.

Maybe it comes from being from the Underground. Always trying to be five steps ahead of any perceived threats. Maybe it comes from his Corps training. Maybe both.

You can’t help your eyes from wandering as you watch him subtly from the bar. He’s handsome, somehow both rough and effortless at the same time. The planes of his face are lined with cues of life and loss and you wonder how close you can get to him to see more.

You prepare five mugs of earthwater, adding a little extra mint to their drinks to spruce it up. You strive to impress, and Captain Levi is no exception. Carrying all five drinks on a tray with one hand, you head back over to their table, ignoring the hollering of your patrons around you. You turn your head towards them while you’re still walking, and flash them a gratuitous wink to quell them. They sigh happily and you roll your eyes fondly.

They’re just drunk and happy.

“I’m back,” You announce, “One earthwater for each of you.”

You hand a mug to each of them, careful not to slosh the liquid over the rim. Levi eyes the mugs impassively- they’re made of shiny brass and have a thin handle on the side. And they’re clean, he realizes as he inspects the mug.

“I’m curious to hear your thoughts, Captain,” You say with a smile, your right hand on the table and your left hand on your hip. You lean on your right hand and Levi tries to ignore the way the collar of your shirt slips to the side, the hollow between your neck and shoulder exposed. He catches the glint of something shiny on your left hand before taking a sip in front of six pairs of waiting eyes.

They all lean in close to hear the verdict.

“It’s not shitty,” Levi says, pleasantly surprised. Not that you’d be able to tell. It’s a little sweet but not overwhelmingly so. He can taste richness in the aftertaste of the drink and the combination of it with mint is unlike anything he’s ever tasted. What exactly is in this drink? No wonder Oluo says it’s filled with diamonds and sapphires.

“Ha! I’ll take it,” You say triumphantly, “Well, enjoy. You know where to find me.”

Your dark eyes linger on Levi for a second longer, searching for the hidden roughness that only an Underground kid can have. But he’s no kid, and he hides it well.

So do you.

Levi is no stranger to pretty women, and he knows beauty when he sees it. At first glance, you look like you’ve been born and raised inside of Wall Rose. Your brown skin glows despite the absence of sun, you smile so boldly that your cheeks must hurt, your eyes are mischievous.

And yet. It only takes one sweeping glance at you, at your confidence and the twinkle in his eyes for Levi to see how much of yourself you’ve given to be here. To have something called your own. Your hands were rough when you had handed him his mug and he saw faint, old scars on your forehead and your neck when you had leaned in.

He can admire from afar, can’t he? No harm, no foul. It’s not like he’ll be coming back here anyway, right? He’ll probably be dead before he can.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #aot imagines #snk imagines

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harrykilledmoi · 5 years

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A Bell Through The Night

Or the one where Harry surprises you in more ways than one.

Word Count: 7.3 k Themes: AU, fluff, angst, 70s!Harry, Fleetwood Mac Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader / Harry Styles x Stevie Nicks (circa 1975) Warnings: drug use Author’s Note: I know this is a little late, since the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame train has long left the station but I still wanted to share this! Inspired by this: “This beautiful child should’ve been born in 1948, too, because he just fits in with all of us.” - Stevie Nicks [on Harry Styles]

masterlist read on wattpad edits

August 24, 1975.

It’s a phone call that has you in the Arizona desert at the tail end of the summer months. Harry had gone down days before you for a meeting. Work had been slow in coming your way for a few weeks and photographing locals for a small newspaper in the city had left you with little to be desired. So when he’d asked for you to join him on this specific day, in this specific place, you were more than excited to oblige.

The trek from the opposite coast hadn’t been as bad as you thought it would be. You were nervous at first because, up until this point, you had never been on a plane. But there was something about the ride amongst sun kissed, gossamer clouds that made you never want to get off.

Now you were stood at the airport, wedged in a phone booth, camera strapped and hanging from your neck. Your small blue suitcase tucked in between your legs as you rest the phone between your ear and shoulder. Rooting around in your denim jacket pocket for the piece of paper containing the phone number for the motel Harry was staying in, as well as an address. You find it, then drop a dime into the coin slot. The dial tone buzzes loudly through the receiver before a pre-recorded woman’s voice prompts you to dial “the number you wish to reach.”

The shrill phone ring bleeds through the phone becoming the soundscape for your observation of your surroundings as you wait for him to answer. Two young children run around screaming and laughing, A young couple sit cuddled up together on an island bench, a TSA guard, with his too small button up shirt, stained with sweat, smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee at a counter cafe. You scratch your arm, it had been weeks since you’d decided to quit smoking and it was getting harder and harder everyday to not just cave.

“Hello?”

His voice pours through the phone like honey, comb still in, static dances around the accompanying silence. You jump even though you had been expecting his voice, you hadn’t realized just how long it had been since you’d last spoken.

“Hey, Harry, Hi,” you speak, while fumbling to readjust the phone, settling on just holding it up to your ear with your hand.

“Hey love, y’here? How was the flight?”

“Good, good. I mean there was a baby crying the whole way down but I feel worse for their mom than I do myself and the attendants just seemed like they wanted to jump out of the plane, sans parachute, ya know? It was wild, so beautiful but like, we were up so high. It’s weird to think about how far technology has come. Uhm, are you picking me up still?” You ramble and Harry notices, his soft chuckle trickles through the phone, notifying you.

“You nervous or something, bunny?”

You laugh, waving your hand in the air in front of you, as if doing so would fan away the acute feelings of anxiety that followed you from your home, onto a plane, and right to Sky Harbour International airport. You hated surprises and although you had been together for nearly three years, you weren’t sure if Harry had known.

“No, no. I’m fine. Totally copasetic.”

There’s a light shuffling on the other end of the phone as well as a few soft voices but none clear enough for you to distinguish.

“Choice. I can’t pick you up. I gotta finish up getting your surprise ready but I will meet you at the motel at six, you have the address. Y’alright with taking a cab?”

You glance around the airport. The TSA guard is now talking to a woman who is holding the hands of the two children that were rebel rousing earlier. She looks exhausted.

“Yeah, yeah. I can… I can do that.” “Alright! I’ll see you then,” the smile on his face was evident through his words, bringing the corners of your lips as well.

“See you then.”

You hang up and push yourself away from the pay phone, picking up your suitcase. You survey the wide, open space of the airport. People coming to and from, going everywhere, going nowhere. Finding their place in the world by getting lost. It was something that had always fascinated you; the idea that everyone you’re surrounded by in a public place has their own story. Sonder, a three dollar word that you’d thought Harry had made up during one of your game nights. The both of you had been so high that night - deciding that an LSD fueled scrabble game would be way more fun - that it took you nearly 45 minutes to locate it in the dictionary.

You step through the large glass doors towards the taxi nursery at the edge of the curb. The late afternoon sun washes you in a soft glow, as a snug blanket of dry heat surrounds you. You place your suitcase by your feet and pull off your jacket, tying it around your waist. The plain white tank top you have on reflects the surrounding light. You hold a hand out and a bright yellow car, top light on, pulls up in front of you. You toss in your suitcase before climbing in yourself. Dictating the address to the driver, you settle in for the ride.

Phoenix is unlike any place you’d ever been before. The city, with its towering, stalagmite-esque buildings scattered amongst vast flatlands. It carries a warm, sepia tone with an occasional burst of colour. You snap several pictures through the windows as you drive through the downtown metropolis. Attempting to catch the quick passing beauty of the city at sunset.

The Caravan Inn is a sight in the evening. The glow of lights irradiates the building making it seem as if the sun is shining right from it. The neon illuminated sign, a cavalcade of colours topped with the silhouette of a man riding a camel. A click of your camera shutter and the taxi speeds away, leaving you standing in front of your accommodations for the next few days.

You walk to the motel office, taking in the large OASIS sign, just to the left of it, that hangs right above a pool area. You mentally curse yourself for not packing a swimsuit. A light, airy chime sounds when you enter the small office, followed by the smell of stale coffee and the faint scent of lingering body odor. A stout woman, with white blonde hair stack and pinned to the gods, assists you, handing you a key and pointing you in the direction of the room Harry had been staying in, 2A.

The sound of your shoes echoes every time they meet the teal painted concrete steps. Your quick ascent to the second level of the motel causes your camera to bounce against your chest. You swivel left then right, then left again once you reach the landing. It only takes you a moment before you realize that the door you’re looking for is right in front of you, cloaked in the same aqua hue as the steps. A rusted, brass ‘2A’ sits in the center of it.

The room itself, modest in size, looks as if it held secrets that would cause your demise if you were to learn them. A queen sized bed, dressed in an obnoxious orange comforter sits against the wall, coming far into the middle of the room. Beside it, two bedside tables covered in a wood patterned vinyl, one with a clock, both with matching lamps. Gold bulbous bases, cylindrical off white shades throwing rays of toasty light around the room. Harry’s worn leather shoulder bag sits unzipped in the far corner, at the square, wooden base of the bed.

The soles of your shoes drag against the low, dark carpeted floor as you enter the room. A small side skip allows you to squeeze through the tight space between the foot of the bed and a small television stand before dropping your bag next to Harry’s.

The lone analog clock ticks right as you look at it, as if speaking directly to you. The hour hand rests just past the 5 and the minute, on the 3. It’s then that you realize just how long the journey had been. You sit on the bed, your weight lightly ricochets your body up then down, a squeal from the springs echos off of the brown and cream striped wallpapered walls. You’re exhausted and after a few passing seconds, decide to prioritize a nap over a shower. You lay back on top of the blanket, your head sinks into the pillow and just like that, you’re out.

Keys in a deadbolt brings you into a stream of consciousness. You keep your eyes closed and attempt to keep your breathing even and leveled, wanting to will yourself back to sleep. A shuffling sound follows the soft click of the of the door closing. You feel the bed dip then a strong arm secure itself around your waist along with a nose nuzzling into the hair at the base of your neck.

“Bunny?”

His lips touch your neck in a barely there kiss as his breath seeps into your skin and down your spine.

“Know you’re awake.” You groan as he kisses the base of your neck before untangling himself from you.

“Scoot your tush, got your surprise f’ya.”

You open your eyes and sit up, finding him standing at the edge of the bed, hands behind his back. You turn to face him, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed, legs crossed beneath you. His face holds a smile as bright as the neon signs of the countless motels on the interstate. Dimples on full display. His eyes trace the lines of your face.

You run your hand through your hair, smoothing it down.

“What is it?”

“My god, you’re gorgeous.”

“Duuuude,” you whine, the anticipation of not knowing why he’d asked you to come to Arizona was reaching critical mass. You want to know, you need to know.

“You have t’guess.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” his tone is laced with mock seriousness, causing his face follow suit, fighting against a smile.

You crawl forward across the bed towards him and rise to your knees when you’re right in front of him, so close your chests touch. You bring a hand up to his hair, playing with the long curls before tracing your hand down his t-shirt clad chest painfully slow. You notice his adam’s apple bob as your hand rests right above the top of his jeans. You trace your fingers from hip bone to hip bone as you pepper sluggish kisses up his neck to his jaw, which clenches when you kiss the soft groove between the sharp edge and his earlobe. His lips part, his eyes close and you know this is your chance. You use your free hand to snatch “your surprise” out of his hands, snapping Harry out of his revelry.

You scoot back quickly, your back bumps up against the headboard, laughing as Harry lunges towards you. You hold the item, which you now knew is a record, in the air as he tries to take it away from you. He sighs, giving up almost immediately while settling into the space between your legs, his chin resting on your stomach.

“Fine, you win.” You flash your teeth in victory.

“Don’t I always,” you laugh through your gloat, looking down at him. His eyes, wide and bright staring back at you, the pale jade speaking to your soul in a way nothing else ever could. He kisses the small patch of skin on your torso where your shirt has ridden up in all the excitement.

“Well, check it.”

You roll your eyes then bring the record down to eye level, blocking Harry’s face completely. In your hands, Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album, which left you a bit confused. You distinctly remember going to the record store with Harry to buy it the day it had come out. In fact, you were pretty sure this was that exact copy, the coffee ring in the corner confirmed that. You tilt the record to the side to reveal Harry’s smirking face, your eyebrow raises to silently ask him what the heck was going on.

“Turn it over you mong.”

You sigh causing Harry’s head to sink with the release of air, flipping the record, turning to look at it from the side. Harry’s eyes are trained on you as you read the delicate, black scrawl that takes up the bottom right corner of the sleeve. Your eyes widen as you look back and forth between Harry and the album. His smile growing wider each time.

“How the fuck did you… oh my god!”

Hey Bunny!

Thank you for loving and living.

Love, Stevie Nicks x.

“I know a guy. Check inside,” Harry pushes, he rolls his lips together, eyes trained on you as you tilt the record sleeve. Two small, rectangular pieces of pink hued paper, a stiff card like stock, fall onto the bed beside you. You place the record down gently and pick them up. Reading them, Harry didn’t think you could be more visibly excited, he was wrong. The fist holding them clench as you use you free hand to pull Harry up to eye level with you.

Pressing your lips together in a kiss that screamed appreciation and adoration. You pull apart moments later to catch your breaths, resting your forehead on his, all heavy breathing and dilated pupils you manage to squeeze out an nearly inaudible, “thank you.”

Harry takes you by the hand, pulling you through the crowd of sweaty, intoxicated in some way or another, bodies closer to the front of the stage. Turning back every once in a while with a huge smile on his face, which you returned with just as much enthusiasm.

The opening band had just finished their set and the crowd is amply warmed up, ready for the magic that is Fleetwood. You had chosen to go sober, wanting to soak in every song, every moment, every emotion, to hold on to for years to come. For when your grandchildren asked you about your youth, knowing that this was a moment you would regret to forget.

Harry pulls you into him, lazily draping an arm around your shoulders, once you both find yourself in a great spot; two rows behind those pressed up to the stage. You wouldn’t have to crane your neck to see but you felt bad for the shorter folks left standing behind your beau. The boy was tall and there was no denying that.

The house lights come down resulting in a boisterous roar from the crowd, mirroring the rumbling anticipation and excitement in your gut. You’d been listening to the band for as long as you could remember, from before Stevie had become a part of the magic, but it really was her addition that had made you fall in love all over again.

One by one Mick, Lindsey, Christine, and John take their places, instruments on their person. Safe for Mick’s drum set, which he quickly shuffles behind. Stevie is last on but most definitely not least. She floats onto the stage with a grace unparalleled to any earthly creature, dressed in a white, lace, tie up, cropped blouse, a sheer white shawl around her shoulders and light denim bell bottoms. She takes her place behind the microphone at center stage, tambourine in hand. The stage lights create an angelic halo around her as it shines through her flowing, blonde hair. You’re mesmerized, so much so that you hadn’t noticed Harry’s arm drop from around your shoulder.

It’s Christine who speaks first, addressing the crowd, welcoming you all to the show, thanking you for wanting to be a part of this experience with them, introducing the first song.

“‘Bout to do a song from the Kiln House album for you. This one’s called Station Man.”

Her accent catches you by surprise, breaking you out of your trance with a smile. You nudge Harry softly in the ribs, looking up at him. He looks down at you, a knowing smirk etched on his face.

You’re having the time of your life, dancing and singing along. Both to songs you hadn’t heard before and songs your soul could recognize in the afterlife. Jumping and spinning circles around Harry as he sways along to the music. Watching you enjoy yourself is one of his favourite things about spending time with you. A close second to your ability to challenge his mind with just the words that came out of your mouth.

“This is a song from our latest album that came out a few months ago. It’s a song from Stevie Nicks called Rhiannon,” Christine’s voice echoes throughout the theater.

Whistles and hoots drift from the back of the room to the front, cloaking you in a feeling of belonging. The opening chord of the song drip from Lindsey’s guitar, in a new yet familiar way, as Stevie steps up to the mic. You bring your camera up and snap a quick photo before settling. Preparing yourself for your favourite song off of the album you’d been listening to on repeat since you’d first had it in your possession.

“This is a song about an old Welsh witch.”

It’s then that she makes eye contact with you, smiling, and for a split second your heart stops. You can’t help but allow the grin on your face to grow exponentially. Her eyes leave yours and land beside you, on Harry, and she sends a short, familiar wave in his direction, to which Harry returns before she launches into the song.

Her voice guttural and raw, full of unspoken feelings and unknown history. She’s petite but so incredibly chasmal. You elbow him in his side, harder this time, fueled completely by awe.

“Heeeeey. What was that for?”

“Stevie just fucking waved at you!”

He smiles, lifting and dropping his shoulders at your verbal observation. He stays silent, swaying to the music as you stare at him in complete and utter disbelief. You take a minute, glancing at Stevie and then back at Harry. Finally connecting her acknowledgement of his presence and his casual indifference.

“You know Stevie Nicks…” He turns his head to acknowledge your realization, but keeps his eyes glued to the stage.

“You know Stevie Nicks? How do you know Stevie Nicks?”

He stays silent, his lower lip now wedged under this teeth. Gnawing ever so slightly.

You had now lost complete interest in the events happening on stage, shifting your focus, trying to understand how your boyfriend knew your idol.

You try again, slower this time, louder.

“Harry. How do you know Stevie Nicks?”

He releases his lip, only to replace his teeth with his thumb and forefinger. Pulling at it pensively, his eyes still trained on the stage.

“We used to date.”

His words are so nonchalant that you’re thoroughly convinced you’ve misheard him. Your eyes widen. You look back and forth between Harry and Stevie. A lump forms in your throat as you watch the golden haired goddess twirl and glide around the stage. Her voice echoing throughout the theater.

Your mind drifts as you attempt to enjoy the show. You want to enjoy this moment, to relish in it but you continuously find your train of thought crashing into an pit of ugly envy, a flaming, fiery mess with no survivors. Jealousy had never been your MO but you’d always been distressingly aware of how absurdly incomparable Harry is. The passing eyes of both women and men alike was a constant reminder of that fact. It wasn’t only the fact that he was painfully handsome either - although denying that it is a colossal factor would be naive and foolish - but the genuine and intoxicating aura that surrounds him. Pulling people in, making them want him and want to know him. It had been the very reason you’d approached him in that dark, dingy dive years prior, and now it’s the reason you feel as small as you do. Incredibly inadequate standing next to him, in the pit of a show led by a woman whose aura and beauty matched his, whom of which he had been involved with. How could you compare? How could you ever live up to that? A lyrical angel, a literal rockstar. You’re tired of the sour feeling pinching your stomach but you can’t help but compare yourself to the ethereal enigma that is Stevie. Who could? You didn’t say anything to Harry through the rest of the show nor him to you. You’re so consumed with the rush of feelings that’ve come over you that you hadn’t noticed the show had ended. It wasn’t until you felt the movement of the crowd heading towards the back of the theater, like a high tide being pulled by the moon, that you re-join reality. Your nerves are fried and you’re not quite sure if they could be repaired.

Harry turns to you, smiling. His hands on your face, cradled beneath your ears as his thumbs stroke your cheeks.

“How’d you like the show?”

His voice is soft and expecting. You look up at him, pushing a brief small smile up from the reservoir of adrenaline you hadn’t known you had left over.

“Got one more surprise f’you.”

He sounds so excited that you didn’t have the the heart to tell him, point blank, that you’d had enough and just wanted to go home. Not back to the motel, home.

He pulls you gently to a door on the side of the theater that reads “CREW MEMBERS ONLY” in big, red block letters, leading you through a long hallway filled with gear cases and crew members, giving a swift nod to every other passerby. Your confusion only grows when he stops in front of a door labelled in fancy, slick cursive as the green room. A mixture of laughter, conversation, and music seep through, muffled by the barrier in front of you. He stops and turns to you, dropping your hand before relocating them to your shoulders. You look anywhere but him, the ground having more interest than yours to be transparent about how you’re feeling in this moment. He went through all of this trouble, although now you question how much trouble it truly was, for you. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful because you were far from it. You just didn’t want to spoil his mood with yours that had curdled within the last hour.

You feel a hand lift off of one shoulder. A light finger placement under your chin brings your eyes into contact with the saturated everglade within his. He’d always been really good at reading you. Knowing when something was off, when you felt off. You weren’t sure if it was the post-concert fumes or the joint he’d smoked in the parking lot before the show, but he hadn’t shown you any hints of knowing. You found yourself silently praising every deity you knew by name.

“‘lright, m’gonna need to stay calm. Okay?” A soft laugh peeks through his words.

You remain silent, nodding in complacent understanding. He turns, lightly rapping on the door. His ring - the rose one you’d given him on his birthday last year - sounds a vague metallic clang on the antiqued wood.

The noise of the room, once muddled, hits you like a speeding freight when the door swings open. A sing-song chorus of Harry’s name plays through the space. You shuffle in behind him, keeping your head down. You aren’t generally a quiet person but moments like this are far and few between for you.

Harry working the room is nothing short of magical. Greeting anyone and everyone as you tail him, a firm grip on the bottom of his worn Rolling Stones tour tee. Hugs, fist bumps and light conversation all around. It isn’t until he introduces you loudly to the room that you realize you’re standing in the center of it. Harry no longer in front of you, but at your side, nudging you gently forward.

You look up, raising your hand in a demure greeting, as names you won’t have the chance to remember are hurdled towards you. Then, out of a door you hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room, steps the woman of the hour. She fiddles with the tie on her shirt as she enters deeper into the room.

“What’s with all the commotion out here?”

She sounds just like she sings, real and raw, and you’re enthralled all over again. She scans the room, biting back a smile. It grows only when she spots Harry and speeds to his person, arms out and welcoming.

“Harry! You came. I’m so glad!” He laughs into the hug and tsunami of invidiousness you’d been riding crashes at your feet with full force. You feel smaller than a head on a pin.

You watch as they step out of their embrace, but continue to hold each other at arm's length. Stevie’s on his biceps, Harry’s on her forearms.

“Wow, this is so good. This is great.” Her words are like sunshine and although she’s not speaking to you, you can’t help but to be filled with an indiscriminate warmth. You cross your arms over your chest. You feel intrusive on this reunion but just when you’re about to make a mad dash for the door she turns and looks at you.

“Is this Bunny?” She looks back at Harry. A rush of confidence propels you forward, hand out, you introduce yourself.

Stevie smiles, releasing Harry and takes your hand, pulling you into a hug. The scent of patchouli and lavender radiates from her, sending your head in a spiral. You look up at Harry, eyes wide. His elbow rests on his other arm that’s strung across his chest. His hand covering the large grin that has surfaced on his face. She pulls away from you, holding you in the same way she had Harry.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. He talks about you nonstop. So nice to finally put a face to a name.”

You look back and forth between Stevie and Harry, who was now stood behind her.

“Uh… yeah. Big… uh, I’m a big fan of the band,” you stumble, “...and of yours. Huge fan of yours. Massive,” and blaze through the end of your truth.

She laughs gently, sweetly then she’s gone, beckoned from across the room, whisking over to whomever required her attention.

You’re in shock, hands still out in front of you. Harry steps forward, a light snicker escapes him as he takes your hands. You stare up at him but you’re not really looking at him.

“You okay?”

You nod slowly, your jaw slack, leaving an open space between your lips. Harry kisses the side of your mouth before letting go of your hands. He tells you to grab a seat, that he’ll grab you a drink, before jetting off to the refreshment table where Stevie and Mick are having, what seems like, a deep conversation.

You find a spot on a small, gray couch in the corner of the room. Watching people get drunker and more rowdy as the time goes by. They start to blur together into one massive streak of colour and sound. It isn’t until you spot the time on a clock located just above the bathroom door that you realize Harry had been gone for nearly an hour. The air grows suffocating as you stand, searching over heads of fluffed and curled hair for refuge. You spot Harry moments later. His arm slung around Stevie’s shoulder as they talk animatedly with Christine. You want to walk over and pull him away, plead with him to take you back to the motel, but the barbed wire twisting around your stomach made you hesitant. You watch him place an exaggerated kiss on Stevie’s head and that’s what sends you off the deep end. The feeling as frigid and sharp as an ice bath.

You scramble towards the door you’d entered through just a few short hours ago. Knocking shoulders and bumping drinks until you finally reach the handle. You tug it so violently that you could’ve sworn you’d ripped the door off its hinges.

Almost blindly, you stagger forwards into the hallway, sucking in a deep breath. You can hear your heart in your ears, feel your pulse in your throat, as you push yourself further down the hall. Stopping when you reach a pile of equipment cases piled just high enough for you to get your feet off the ground had you chosen to climb them; and you did. Propping yourself on the edge of a peripheral case and sitting on top of the large amp casing.

You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you know you shouldn’t but your head and heart weren’t cooperating. The futility of trying to get them to comply and coexist to give you some semblance of sanity is incredibly high. So in turn you decide to become just that, incredibly high. You shimmy backwards, resting your head and back against the wall, before pulling a joint out of your pocket. Rainy day insurance is what Harry had called it when he found out it was a permanent fixture to your person.

“...in case of emergencies.” “Good to know you’re so prepared, love. If I’m ever in need of some immediate enlightenment, I’ll know who to ring.”

You light it with a match from a matchbook you’d taken from the motel. You inhale deeply, letting the small, packaged green sit tightly between your lips. You hold it in, one, two, three seconds before releasing a cloud of smoke with a big audible sigh. Your eyes sliding shut as you wait for your erratic heartbeat to level out.

When Stevie’s head peeks out of the green room door a few moments later, you’re too floaty to realize. She spots you, however, looking as serene as they come. The joint, now a roach, pinched between your fingers. She glides over to you, her movements so fluid, you’d swear she were swimming through the air.

“There you are,” you open your eyes at the sound of her voice to find her smiling at you. A lazy smile graces your features.

“Hey there.”

“I wondered where you’d run off too. Harry was talking my ear off all weekend about how I just had to meet his Bunny and I barely got to chat with you tonight.”

Your smile and relaxed demeanor fall as you take in her words. The filter you once had has burned down to non-existent. Your immediate thoughts began to flow sluggishly from your lips and you were sure you shouldn’t have let it but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Harry was with you all weekend?”

“Yeah, we had a few days off. We were trying to work out some logistics for the third leg of the tour, one of our openers dropped out and I remembered that Harry had been trying to do the music thing for so long, figured we’d give him a shot. Y’know?”

“Tour?” you sit up, leaning forward, pulling your legs into a criss cross position.

Harry saunters out of the green room, spotting you and Stevie, he approaches the two of you but you’re too distracted to notice. Not sure if it’s because of the haze from the smoke or the news you’d just heard. “Yeah, he’s gonna be great.”

“What am I gonna be great at?” He questions, entering the conversation.

You look at him, all droopy eyelids and knitted brows. You’re positive that if you weren’t as high as you are now, you’d be shaking.

“Opening for Fleetwood on tour.”

You speak so curtly and clearly that you scare yourself. It feels as if your soul is trying to disconnect itself from its earthbound prison, but you’re holding on for dear life.

Harry turns to Stevie so quickly you can see his movements blur, following him in delayed time as if it were on another plane of existence.

“You told her?”

“You didn’t?” Stevie’s eyebrows are raised.

“I need a drink,” your words muffled by starch, the interior of your mouth feeling as if you’d just played an insanely long round of chubby bunny. You try to jump off of the case but your clouded mind executes the action before your body could follow, causing you to stumble once your feet hit the ground. Harry’s arms are out in an instant, catching you. You land face first into his strong, broad chest. His scent hits you in a billowing poof of air. It’s woodsy and citrusy and salty and sweet. It’s too much.

You push yourself away from him, out of his arms. He calls after you but you’re already sliding back into the green room. At the refreshment table a wide spread of liquors is presented to you. You reach for the vodka but make a split last second decision and reach for the tequila instead, knocking over a bottle that was in the way. You hold the bottle of tequila above your head but it’s snatched from your fingers right as you’re about pour a shot into your mouth.

Harry stands in front of you, tequila in hand. He looks like someone has kicked his puppy and you find yourself vexed because he had no reason to be upset. He was the one leaving you.

He leans in, mouth so close to your ear that you can smell the faint trace of alcohol on his breath.

“Can we please talk about this outside?”

You scoff, a light snorting noise punctuated with an eye roll. Oh, noooow he wants to talk.

“Please?”

“Fine,” you humour him, your concession tangled in a heavy sigh.

He places the bottle back on the table before spinning you around. Placing his hands on your waist, he guides you gently out of the green room.

You don’t stop moving until you’re outside, in a loading area, buses and trucks lined up uniformly. The late night air is a lot staler than it had been when you first arrived. An oven with the door open, no wind, just warmth all around. It sobers you up almost instantly. Harry stops nudging when the two of you are settled in between two, large packing trucks parked closely together, leaving only a few inches between your bodies. You lean lazily against the truck, allowing your eyes to close and your head to lul to the the side, awaiting his reasoning, his explanation, as if there was one good enough to justify him keeping this from you.

When he speaks your name it’s soft, reminding you of the clouds you’d flown over less than twelve hours ago. What you wouldn’t give to have that peace of mind back in this moment.

“Listen, I didn’t know if it was actually going to happen. Been talking to Christine and just recently caught up with Stevie and she’d mentioned it. I didn’t want to tell you unless it was a sure thing.” You open your eyes, raising them to the sky. The height of the trucks tunnel your vision, redirecting your focus to the twinkling clusters of stars stitched to the deep, dark velvet of the two am sky. He keeps his eyes trained on you.

“And is it?”

“S’what?”

You finally look at him, immediately meeting his gaze, throwing you off for half a beat. You shift your weight from one leg to the other.

“Is it a sure thing?”

He remains silent, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes and releases. You can see the gears in his head turning, the possible negative outcomes of answering your question, playing in his eyes. Like a silent stop motion film. All in black and white. All unhappy endings.

He does, however, answer you with a slow nod. Keeping his eyes on you, studying you as if he had a major exam coming up that could make or break his school year, watching for any signs that may point to you telling him that you were done with him.

“And when were you going to tell me? If you even were going to tell me,” you mutter the latter under your breath but he still catches it. His posture straightens.

“I was going to tell you Bunny! I swear. Was gonna be tonight too, like when we got back to the motel. After I loved on you cause god, I’ve fuckin’ missed you and it’s only been a few days…” he pauses, stepping towards you but you’re quicker, side stepping so you were no longer flush the truck. Square with the opening between them, creating much needed space between you and Harry. A pained expression plateaus his features but he continues, turning his body to face your new position.

“I just… I wanted tonight to be perfect. I wanted you to have an unforgettable one. Wanted to make up for what happened on your birthday last year.”

You cross your arms over your chest, relinquishing a sigh. You remember it vividly, although you wish you could forget it.

It had been a while since you had celebrated your earthstrong day but Harry insisted that you must do something for it. 25 was a big deal, it was important. Harry had made a big deal of planning a dinner for you and your family to celebrate. What he hadn’t told you was that the dessert he’d prepared, your favourite after meal pastry, had a little something extra in it that he hadn’t warned you about. Long story short, you spent the rest of your night talking your parents down from a very bad high, and Harry - the cause of all of your grief that night - slept through it all. You’d put him in the dog house for months after that and he’d never stopped apologizing.

“You have to admit though. Now when y’look back at it, s’kind of funny. I mean your mum really dug that shag rug,” he chuckles.

“It’s not funny.”

He tries to subdue his giggles resulting in a wide grin instead. You struggle to remain stoic, still fuming, but you could feel the edges of your icy-ness began to melt away. There’s just something about this boy that always gets to you in the best way possible. Which is why finding out that he may be away for months at a time tasted so incredibly bitter.

You let out a puff of air.

He gives himself a light tap on the cheek. His mouth pursed in a small frown as he tries to focus on remaining serious.

“Oh come on Bunny, I’m sorry okay. I swear I was gonna tell you.”

He nudges you softly, hoping the contact would soften your hard demeanor and lighten up the weight of the situation. He’d really been hoping to have this talk to you when you were in a better mood but he now knew he had to tread lightly.

He takes a tentative step towards you. Your arms, still tightly crossed against your chest, begin to loosen. Slowly, as if counting the seconds and steps in his head, he reaches for your arm. When you don’t resist, he pulls you in close to him in a warm embrace. Whispers of apologies and pleasantries leave his lips in short bursts, threading through your hair and landing on your shoulders. He’s being incredibly gentle with you, and although you’re sure he wishes it had the opposite effect, every touch breeds heartache. The dam is cracking and your hand is hovering above the manual release button for the floodgates.

You release the hold that you have on your own arms when he starts petting your hair. Long, molassing strokes that fall in time with both of your breathing. Naturally synced. Your face pressed against his chest, fitting like your favourite pair of jeans: snug, comfortable, perfect.

“Didn’t even know you wanted to pursue music,” your words are muffled by the cotton of his shirt but his sigh lets you know that he’s heard you. He rests his chin on top of your head.

“Wasn’t something I thought I’d get the chance to do, y’know? Was a hobby for so long, always just mucked about with it. Used it as an outlet. Gave it up before I met you”

Your arms wrap themselves around your stomach loosely, as if they were keeping you from falling apart.

“How come?” You were curious. You couldn’t help help but think that it was because he’d met you that he given up his dream. Freelance photography didn’t pay greatly but it was your passion and Harry had always pushed you to do what made you happy. So he’d taken a job managing a bakery down the street from the apartment you shared to support the both of you.

“It was a different time in my life, back when I was living in California. Didn’t really have much that I had to care about. I was living with a bunch of people who were trying to make a living that way so I fell into it.” He’d stopped his work on your hair, bringing his arm around you shoulder to bring you in closer.

“Is that how you met Stevie?”

He chuckles, it’s airy but full of reminiscent energy.

“Yeah, that’s how I met Stevie.”

You shuffle, moving your head to look up at him. His eyes full of memories. You urge him to continue.

“I was crashing on a friend’s couch in this artist commune. They had a party one night and she was there. We talked and just, I don’t know. Ran with it. We don’t have to talk about this, it’s weird innit? Me talking about my ex.” You lean back to look up at him eyebrow raised.

“You really think this is the weirdest thing to happen tonight?”

He laughs.

“You’re right.”

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards for a split second. You move back to your former position, pressed up against his chest. You close your eyes, indulging in the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“So what happened?”

“It was a lot. There was a lot going on and I couldn’t handle it.”

You hum, nodding ever so slightly.

“Plus she met Lindsey…” He pauses, untangling his arms from you taking a small step back. He lifts his hand and runs the pad of his thumb lightly across your cheekbone. You eyes flick up to his, looking down at you. He sighs, the corner of his mouth lifts, “...and I met you.

The flutter you feel in your stomach is strong but short lived when you remember why you were both standing in the loading area of a theater instead of hanging out with your favourite band just a mere feet away. You’ve been trying to avoid asking your next question. Trying to push it to the back of your mind, attempting to distract yourself from it because you already knew what the answer would be but it stayed stewing, and now it was bubbling over. Before you could stop it, it flew out of your mouth and into the space around you.

“Are you going to accept the offer?”

Harry stays too quiet for too long. With each passing moment, you can feel the ends of your already frayed nerves fizzle and burn out. He looks at you, really looks at you. Your eyes, your lips, you, as a whole. When he finally does speak, his voice is steady and his words, soft. He leans down, cheek touching cheek. And although it’s whispered, his lips tickling the shell of your ear, his words speak unreachable volumes.

“Only if you come with me.”

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rainywriteskpop · 6 years

Text

VIXX as Boyfriends~

requested by: anon but i think i know who <3

authors note: i’ve had a decently solid headcannon on VIXX for years now...here’s hoping you enjoy it as much as I huehue ; sorry if some are shorter x)

also anything crossed out means its an author note cuz im extra and need a say in everything apparently

Leo:

»uwu »soft af »tsundere ASF »did i mention soft? »for real tho, at first he’d be cold »and once he starts liking you, he’d kinda just accept how talkative you are »he’ll do that kind of.. nose exhale to laugh at one of your jokes »he’ll slowly find it hard to keep in his giggles and comments because he loves you so much »cafe dates »always gives you tiny gifts, but are always 1000% meaningful »at first not so skinship, but members expose him about how much he talks about you to them »not long after dating, he’ll never want to leave your side »uses you as a pillow literally every chance he gets »BACK »HUGS »teases you a lot, and snickers to himself about it while you pout »quick pecks so no one sees »leaves that heavy shit for when you’re alone »you know this boi gets shy easy, so public affection is minimal »but when he does, you melt every time (i know i do) »would def adopt a pet with you »prob a cat, let’s be real (prob 9 tbh) »would talk about having kids with you »uwu »did i mention soft? (imma stop here, i love my husband too much)

»out fabs you and knows it »teases you (kinda like leo) but far more sassy about it »lots of hugs »would show you off at every chance he gets »then proceed to show how he’s more fab »real talks late at night »would always ask if his teasing and overconfidence is annoying »would do anything to make sure you’re happy »Hongdae dates »COUPLE »RINGS »this man would literally pay to get a plane to spell your name out in the sky »or hire a blimp to have a banner saying “HAKYEON ♥︎ Y/N FOREVER” »loves shopping with you (but then you eventually get bored cuz jfc hakyeon lets go) »lockscreen is either a cute picture of you, or a couple picture where he’s obviously the centre of attention »but of course, his wallpaper is only you :3 »oh and he steals your clothes every so often

Ken:

»aegyo for days »makes you do aegyo too (but you love him so even if you hate aegyo you do it too) »pretty neutral as a boyfie »literally feels like hanging out with your best friend all the time »has his moments where he’s super over-protective of you »anyone gives you a look, he’ll step up and eye them back until they leave (or give them an awkward smile) »weird store dates (like random convenience stores, or stores that sell weird products) »his life goal is to make you laugh and keep you smiling »he’ll even bust out that stupid water bottle joke if he has to »or dance like an idiot even in public to cheer you up (fr tho watch the entire minute of that song, i die every time x) »sings you to sleep »he’d get you a GINORMOUS teddy bear (or plushy of your choosing) and name it after him so you’re always hugging him »but proceed to have a wrestling match with it every time he’s over cuz you spend more time with it

Ravi:

»super cool boyfie »nuff said »fr tho he’d glare at anyone looking at your dirty or trying to get at you »kInKy »movie theatre dates »the type to rest his hand on your thigh comfortably »always has a hand on you soMeWhErE (shoulder, wrist, waist, literally anywhere) »maybe not a couple ring, but he’d get you matching shoes »hehe or give you one of his personal necklaces »would bring you to the studio while he works on songs and asks for your opinion »even includes an alias name for credits in albums he helps produce

Hongbin:

»you thought n showed off his yeochin a lot? pft »hongbin never stops talking about you »it’s like he lives to show you off »remember how he’s a photographer? »never fails to take 1000s of pictures of you every date »you have to pry him from his camera so you can enjoy the date »of course, being a painting like him, he asks you to take a few pictures too, but he still takes years to stop taking pictures of you »nature walk dates »hand holding everywhere you go (laced fingers and all) »matching bracelets for SURE »when you’re lying in bed, he likes to draw shapes on your back

Hyuk:

»NOONA »dorky »would get you to play video games with him »let you win at games you’re bad at »but gets frustrated at games you’re good at cuz he’d have to try hard without getting genuinely mad »if he’s in the middle of a game and you ask him something, he’d drop his controller to pay attention to you »amusement park dates omG »members always tease him about you, but he’s not shy about it »doesn’t usually do aegyo, but will give it his 110% if you ask him to

~rainy ☁︎

#rainywriteskpop #vixx #leo #n #ken #ravi #hongbin #hyuk #jung taekwoon #cha hakyeon #lee jaehwan #kim wonsik #lee hongbin #han sanghyun #kpop imagines #vixx as boyfriends #as boyfriends #kpop headcannons

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nialledfromfics · 8 years

Text

- four: part two -

“I’ll let you drag me to hell if it means you’ll hold my hand.”

After helping me take off my coat, he tossed it down onto the edge of the chair and grabbed my small hand in his to lead me down the short hallway towards the room. I would’ve been lying if I said my heart wasn’t fluttering in my chest at the heavy feeling of his big palm pressed to mine. I peeked down to our lightly intertwined fingers, taking notice of the rough skin surrounding his nails, slightly cracked and blistering red in places. His skin was worn down and over worked, but it was so warm and unexpectedly soft against my own.

He flicked his eyes back over his shoulder at me, my stare shooting up and catching the slight smirk of his lips right as I had let my thumb ghost across the span of one of his fingers. I knew he had felt it.

previous chapters

“Well, we both know what’s in there,” he joked, pointing over to his own bedroom that sat right across the hall from the baby’s room. Glancing over, I felt a sudden wrench of warmth spread from my lower tummy, the thoughts of his mouth on mine and his large hands pushed against my body flashed vivid through my head.

“Um...yeah,” I choked out, bringing my eyes back to his. He gave me a chuckle as he let go of my hand and reached out for the door handle of the closed room to gently open it.

I don’t think my eyes ever scanned across a room as fast as they did right then. My lips parted slightly, my mind trying to soak in every single detail I was seeing. It was probably one of the most intricate and beautifully decorated rooms I had ever seen in my life. Painted a calming light grey blue with muted camel toned accents, everything matched, everything had its place. It was absolutely pristine. He had spared no expense for this baby. It was like a dream.

“Wow.”

Letting out a laugh, he proudly crossed his arms over his chest as I stepped just past the door frame. I halted to a stop, glancing down at the floor and noticing the exceptionally clean carpet, almost afraid to go any further. “Wanted him to have everythin’ I didn’t, ya know? He’s a good little man.”

I mumbled out a faint ‘uh-huh’, turning my head to the left to see the gorgeous dark oak crib that rested up against a window. It had a large white canopy hanging above, like a lone fluffy cloud floating in the bright sky of day and I let a smile tug at my lips at the serenity of it. Right off to the side, the door to his closet was slightly opened and I could see just a glimpse of the many expensive outfits and shoes Niall had lined up for him. “This is…” I stopped, looking back over my shoulder at him, “he must mean a lot to you.”

He nodded his head, dropping it slightly to reach up and ruffle a hand up through the back of his hair. “He does. A lot.”

All I could do was stare at him, I was completely tongue tied on what to say. No words that reared up in my head seemed right. I could see the adoration in his face, that blissful gleam in his eye as he spoke about him. All the love and fondness he felt for this little boy. Even if he didn’t care about the mother, he cared for him. It was surprising and honestly, refreshing. This was not what I expected at all, he was not what I expected. This was something that no one would have ever thought about him. This was a side of him that no one ever got to see, let alone knew about. And he was sharing it with me.

Swallowing hard, I gave him a half smile as he caught my stare again. “Why me?” I blurted out, his brows pulling in at the question.

“What’d’ya mean?” he shot back, his head tipping to the side as I turned slightly towards him with my back to the opened door.

I scraped my teeth at the corner of my bottom lip, sucking in a breath. “I...I just mean, like, why me? Why...are you showing me and...telling me all this?”

Watching the corners of his mouth tug up, his eyelids lagged a bit heavy as he licked at his lips and ran his stare down my frame. The sudden rise in temperature caused my palms to trickle sweat and I discreetly tried to wipe my hands on the sides of my thighs. Taking a step towards me, I stumbled back slightly as I kept my stare glued to his, my back hitting up against the door as his big hand raised up to flat palm right beside my head.

I gulped in a jumbled breath, my heart thumping loud in my chest as he hovered over me. Our foreheads barely brushed as he leaned down into me and with the front of his body so close, I could literally feel the heat penetrating right through our layers of clothes. He didn’t say a word, just tilted his head slightly, my eyes flitting down to watch his pink lips part open just a bit. His tongue rolled against his teeth, my stomach flipping as his hot breath beat out against my face.

All I could think about was having that fucking mouth on mine.

“ ‘Cause I trust ya, Jules,” he whispered finally, his voice so deep it rattled right from his chest to mine. “And I like ya.”

“I like you too.” I wasn’t even sure if the words made it coherently past my lips or not, my focus not breaking from the movements of his mouth as he spoke. Gasping in a breath, my eyes shot up to his as I felt the grasp of his large hand around my hip, his strong grip yanking my lower body flush into his.

My arms stayed hanging by my sides, powerless as my body helplessly gave into him. Fluttering my eyes closed, I felt the brush of his nose at my cheek and the burning hot ghost of his lips at mine as I let my head fall back against the plane of the door. Tipping my chin up slightly, I sucked in his warm breath, letting it fill my mouth and lungs as he hovered his lips and teasingly slipped them across my open begging mouth.

“Never really got to shift ya like I wanted to,” he breathed out, my eyes squeezing hard and my fingers curling into my clammy fists as I fought off the urge to smash my mouth to his. “Really fuckin’ shift ya good...”

A broken whimper slipped past my lips just as my breath hitched in my throat. I felt his grip tighten to my hip, fingers pressing in deep as the very subtle rock of his hips made my body melt like ice against his. He pushed his nose into the skin of my cheek, the tip of his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick lightly at my open mouth. I was literally screaming on the inside. Already soaking for him, I silently pleaded: Just kiss me, just fucking kiss me!

“You taste sweet,” he whispered, the hot of his breath beat out firm against my lips as I felt his mouth slightly curl into a smirk. “Bet your mouth ain’t the only thing that’s sweet on ya.”

Swallowing back the desperate cry that left my mouth, I felt lightheaded and completely vulnerable as he finally pushed his mouth to mine. His tongue slipped past my lips, running across as he kissed me hard. I hummed out into his mouth, letting him suck wild at my tongue, bite at my lips and tear my much needed breath straight from my lungs. I let him overtake me, let him make me his.

His bearish hand squeezed at my hip before slipping up the curve of my waist and over my ribcage. My chest halted as I held my breath; his wet tongue filling my mouth, sweeping and licking, tasting so fervently at me. His hand slid further up my body, gently cupping over my clothed breast and my hands idled at my sides before shakily raising up to grab at his t-shirt, tugging his body closer into mine.

His thumb traced over the peak of my nipple, making me gasp in a breath between a short break in the kiss before his mouth was roughly pressed back to mine again. I could feel his rough fingers drag up over my chest, flick lightly at the jut of my exposed collarbone before wrapping firmly around the curve of my neck. His thumb held my face to his, placed right at my jaw, and I felt him push himself even closer into me. In my entire life, I had never been kissed like this before. Never with so much heat, so much fervor and passion. So much want. I could taste him; the slight mint on his tongue with the aftertaste of cigarettes. I could smell him; faintly sweet and musty with sweat. I could feel everything; my entire body blazing hot with need and my senses going wild. I never fucking wanted this to end.

With my knuckles spreading white from my intense grip on him, his chin tipped up slightly as he finally broke the kiss, our chests heaving as we both tried to catch our breath. I licked at my lips, savoring the lingering taste of his mouth on mine but I couldn’t even dare open my eyes to look at him. Not yet.

His nose brushed at mine again, the grip he had on my neck loosening a bit as he ran his hand up to cup at my cheek and let the rough pad of his thumb trace over my puffy kiss bitten mouth. “Wanna suck me off?” he breathed out to me, the bluntness of his question making my eyes pop open. I tried to focus on him, my body still reveling in the intensity of the moment and I watched his eyes drop to my mouth, his thumb gently running across my bottom lip. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout these pretty lips wrapped ‘round me.”

I couldn’t speak, my chest rising quick as I struggled to breath. I did. I so fucking did. But God, was I fucking scared. He watched me, the deafening silence making him lock his stare with mine. Those bright baby blues gone a solid pitch dark, eyes half lidded and drunk with lust. His pale cheeks were flushed a bright patchy pink and I could feel a slight sheen of sweat right at his brow bone. He was so fucking gorgeous. “I-I want to...I, um,...I-I just…” I swear the words stumbled off my lips so broken and muddled, I wouldn’t have even called it english.

I flicked my eyes away from his. God, could I be anymore embarrassing right now.

He smirked at me, his hand sliding down and around to the back of my neck, right up under my hair as his thick fingers twisted in. “You don’t wanna make Niall feel good?” he whispered, the words making me squirm against him.

“I, um...I-”

“Fuck, I love that I make ya so nervous,” he blurted out, cutting me off. I shot my stare back to his, the look on his face smug as he lifted his forehead from mine. My grip slowly uncurled from his shirt, my fingernails scraping gently at his sides.

“I’m not nervous,” I retorted, mustering up all the courage I could to force my voice not to tremble. He let out a breathy chuckle.

“Yes, you are,” he quipped back, his voice dipping low. “Can see it in your face.” I gasped in a short breath as he bent his face down, his mouth attaching roughly to the side of my neck. My eyes fell closed, my throat moving under the slick of his tongue as I swallowed hard. “Feel your pulse racin’.”

I bit at my lip as the heat of his mouth spread across my tender skin. He sucked up the curve of my neck, all the way to the dip below my ear. I could feel his fingers tighten in my hair, pulling a bit as he licked under my earlobe before hovering his lips at my skin. “I want ya so fuckin’ bad.”

“I haven’t been with very many guys before,” I admitted, my voice shaky as I tried to settle myself from the intense reaction that he was causing me. He pulled away slightly, staring at me as his body leaned on his outstretched arm that was still planted beside my head. “Only one actually.”

“One?” he repeated, his brows raising in surprise.

Nodding my head, I slowly spread my small hands up around the sides of his chest, the excessive heat of his body unmeasurable. “And it was never...never like this,” I finished, my voice drifting off.

I watched his mouth tug up at the corners and his eyes fall closed in a breathy chuckle before he leaned back into me, his mouth once again pressed to mine. I kissed him harder this time, my fingers curling into the material of his shirt up under his armpits as I intently kept his body flush up against mine. “Niall will show ya all ya need to know, baby,” he breathed out hot into my mouth. I smiled against his lips, my eyes fluttering open as his mouth slid from mine. “How ‘bout I make ya feel good instead, yeah?”

Giving him a slight nod, my head tipped back again as he stuck his mouth to my neck, sucking across the jut of my throat. “But..” I stammered out softly, making sure he knew exactly what I wanted, “I...I wanna do you.”

He lifted his face to mine, his lips leaving my skin with a smack. “Huh?”

“I wanna suck you off.”

I felt the slight brush of his thumb at the shell of my ear as his darkened stare floated over my face. “You don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do, Jules,” he lightly reassured me.

Narrowing my eyes, I yanked at his shirt causing his body to fall against me. I pushed my hips up slightly to let his crotch rub gently against my pubic bone. “I need to suck you off,” I demanded, my voice more stern than I ever thought possible. I don’t know what it was and I had no idea why, but there was just something about Niall that did things to me. Savagely wicked things. This boy brought something out in me, this need, this primal feral need that I had never felt before and that I didn’t even know I had. I wanted him, I wanted him so bad. Every single part of him. I wanted to feel him, I wanted to pleasure him, to make him feel good. I wanted to prove to him that I could be the best fucking lay he could ever have. I wanted to make him want me with every fucking fiber of his being. I wanted him to feel for me just like I was feeling for him. I wanted to be the one.

I watched his tongue dart out to lap at his lips, the one corner of his mouth tugging up slightly as his brow quirked. “Not gonna fuckin’ stop ya then, little one.”

Pushing his body into me, he slammed our mouths together; teeth crashing and tongues forcing. His greedy fingers tugged wild at my hair to make my head dip back onto my shoulders. I cried out into his mouth, slipping my hands up over his chest and around the curve of his neck to card my fingers up through the back of his thick hair. I could feel him growing hard for me in his pants, I could feel the solid head of his cock throb with every sweep of my tongue against his and at that moment I didn’t want anything more than to feel him completely fill my mouth, to taste everything he had to offer.

Dragging my spit-coated mouth from his, I slid my wet lips over his stubbled jaw, his head tipping back slightly as I sucked rampant at his neck. Salty with sweat and blistering hot under my tongue, I raked my fingers further up through his hair, pushing my body away from the door and up to my tips toes to bury my nose deep into his sticky flesh. I could feel his chest rising high against mine, trying to steady himself as I grazed my teeth along his pale freckled skin. Hissing in a breath, his thick fingers yanked back at my hair, a cry falling from my mouth as my swollen lips popped from his heated skin and his face fell to look back down at me. I darted eyes with him, rapidly to match the wicked heaving of our chests as he licked at his lips, a smirk slowly spreading across them. He tugged hard at my hair, my body falling shamelessly at his mercy. With my small fingers slipping down the front of his body, he led me to my knees in front of him, my eyes still fully locked on his.

With raised brows and his jaw slightly cocked, he fixated at me and I began to feel the red heat rise to my cheeks. The spread of my hands slid down over his tummy, my fingers lingering right at his waist as I shakily gulped in a breath. This wasn’t something I did often at all, but as I slowly flicked my eyes away from his and down the lean span of his body, I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on him. I grasped the bottom hem of his tee, pushing it up over the front of his tummy, a smile pulling at my lips as I peered at the small patch of dark hair that settled around his belly button. It delicately trailed down right into the waistband of his boxers, the hem standing up a bit higher then the waistband of his jeans.

With my other hand, I lightly ghosted my fingers across his lower stomach, biting at my lip at the warmth of his skin that penetrated through the pads of my fingertips. Glancing back up at him, his palm was still flat to the door and his head tipped down, I caught glimpse of his engorged pupils, bleeding black into the light blue as he licked at his slightly parted lips. He tugged gently at my hair, hinting at me to keep going.

Swallowing hard, I looked back to where my fingers were planted on his skin and quickly moved them down to the button of his jeans. Giving me a low chuckle as my nervous fingers fumbled with the button, I slowly slid the zipper down over his bulge, entranced by how perfect it looked straining against the material. I could feel his hand flatten a bit at the back of my head, fingers rubbing tenderly at my scalp as he watched me.

Blowing a deep breath past my parted lips, I spread open the fly of his jeans and tucked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down to let just the top of his dark pubic hair peek out. Without thinking, I pushed my face forward, my mouth attaching to the hair covered skin. I squeezed my eyes closed, inhaling deep as my tongue twirled lightly at the skin. His hand pressed against my head, holding me against him before I lifted my face just a bit, tipping my head back to peer up at him.

“Like that don’t ya?” he mewed at me, accent so deep I could barely understand him. Nodding my head, I gave him a small smile as I looked back down at his crotch, my eyes floating across the outline of his hard cock that pushed up against the very thin white fabric of his boxers. It yearned to be free, twitching faintly as it begged to be sucked. Sliding my fingers along the edge of the waistband to his hips, I gently tugged at his underwear, sliding them and his pants down to his thighs.

Choking back a breath, my eyes fluttered as I took in the sight of him. Thick, so fucking thick and perfectly round at the head that was bursting a bright pink. A few prominent veins wound their way up his shaft which curved slightly upwards, just enough to make a girl lose her mind. A light pale pink in comparison to the tip, he wasn’t very long but I could tell that posed no problem for him at all. Coarse dark hair surrounded the base and my mouth had already began to water from the slight taste of it that I had had moments before. Honestly, it was the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. It was gorgeous, he was gorgeous.

Leaning towards him, I kept my fingers curled tight to his underwear as I immediately opened my mouth and laid my tongue flat, swiping it right across the tip. My eyes fluttered closed as I heard a hiss slip past his lips, the tip of my tongue slipping down into the small slit to gather up the salty precum that had begun to drip out.

He tasted just as I had imagined. My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly wrapped my lips around him, gently sucking at his head. Yanking me back with a fist in my hair, my eyes shot up to his as my lips popped off his cock and I watched in surprise as he bent over slightly and spit right on the top of his shaft. Catching my stare, he raised a brow to me as I brought my hand over and wrapped my fingers around him, spreading the hot spit along his hardened length. I squeezed gently as I held him in my hand, hot and pulsing against my palm as I quickly brought him back to my lips, pushing him into my mouth.

I jerked him as I sucked, my fingers meeting my lips as I flicked my tongue around the head. I tried pushing him down my throat, but gagged horribly around him, strings of spit falling from my lips as I pulled away to catch my breath. He smirked down at me, his eyes rolling back a bit as I put him back into my mouth to work him some more.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mumbled, the sound of his bitten fingernails scraping into the wood of the door matching the sloppy echos of my sucks. I hummed out against him, my free hand laying flat against his bare hip to steady myself. His fingers pulled and tugged at my hair, helping me along as I flicked my eyes up to his face. His skin was spotted pink and dripping with sweat and I watched as his teeth bit down into his lip, his head bobbing against his fully flexed bicep as my wet mouth slipped along the heated flesh of his shaft. Popping him from my mouth, I caught my breath, my eyes wide as I stroked him a few good times before lifting his cock and placing my mouth right to the front of his balls.

He moaned out loud, his grip in my hair tightening as I flicked my tongue around, slowly rolling him in and out of my mouth. Smiling to myself, I pushed my nose into the thick hair around his base and breathed him in, musty and a bit sour, I could feel the wetness grow between my legs as I began to slowly suck all the way up the underside of his shaft.

He heard him draw in a shaky breath. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he groaned, his eyes shooting open to peer down at me. He rolled his hips towards my face, my fingernails digging into the burning skin of his hip before he yanked my head back once more.

Heavy lidded eyes and pupils blown wide, his cheeks were flushed red with that utterly fucked out look on his face and his puffy bright pink lips parted slightly as his chest heaved above me. I was infectiously mesmerized. Trailing his eyes down my face, he smirked as he got to my mouth. Swollen and used with spit and precum smeared across my cheeks and chin, he licked at his lips, his hand falling from my hair and slipping over to my cheek.

I gasped in a breath as his thumb roughly ran over my lips and dipped into my mouth. “Can I fuck your mouth?” The words rumbled out deep from his throat, his lips barely moving as he focused solely on my heavily used mouth. I stroked him slow, my hand coming to a stop as I faintly nodded my head. The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly at my answer. “Good girl,” he whispered.

With a breath hitched in my throat, he dropped his hand from my face. “Gimmie your hands,” he demanded, my eyes still darting with his. Pressing my mouth closed, I swallowed hard as I slipped my fingers from his warm body and he reached down to grab both my wrists in one of his large hands. My eyes fluttered at him as he brought them straight above my head, my body thumping back against the door as he pinned them hard against the wood.

Shifting his feet on either side of my bent knees in front of me, he widened his stance and dropped his free hand from its place on the door to grab at his achingly hard cock. I whimpered slightly as I stared up at him, my entire body feeling as it were setting itself ablaze. “Open up,” he growled, voice so raspy it vibrated through my body. Locking eyes with him, the heat that sweltered between us began to make me feel delirious, my breathing quickening as I slowly parted my lips for him. I was powerless, useless, his grip on my wrists so tight I could feel the bruises already forming. “Tongue out.”

I slipped my tongue out, laying it flat for him and let my eyes fall closed. He held himself out, lightly slapping the head of his cock against my tongue before I heard him spit down on his shaft again, his hand slopping over to spread it across just before he pushed himself into my mouth.

My head thumped back against the door, the head of his cock slipping down my throat. It hit the back roughly, causing me to gag around him again, my eyes instinctively squeezing tight. I tried to hold my reflex back, breathing deep to try to settle myself as spit fell past my lips. He rocked his hips towards me, continuing to thrust into my face.

Grunting loud above me, he pulled back slightly every so often to let me catch my breath. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he said under his breath, his eyes glued to me as he watched himself disappear over and over again down my throat. My eyes began to water, the tears building up hot behind my eyelids as he gradually pushed himself further down my throat.

Forcing my eyes open, I looked up at him and let a tear slip down the side of my cheek. His chest heaved, his face dripping in sweat and he pulled his hips back, freeing my constricted throat from the thickness of his cock. “You okay?” he asked softly, almost breathless. I gasped for air, letting my tongue lap at my lips as I darted eyes with him. I hated to admit it, I hated to admit that I had never been more turned on in my life than at that very moment, that I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to go harder. I wanted him to use me, use me for everything he wanted. I wanted to feel him come in my mouth. I needed it, I needed him. Fuck yes, I was more than fucking okay.

“Yes,” I shakily breathed out, tipping my head back a bit and opening my mouth to him. He let out a chuckle, smirking down at me before slipping himself back into my mouth, no mercy left this time as he immediately slid himself down my sore and over-worked throat. I sucked at him when I could, my arms starting to ache from being held high above my head and I tried to keep my stare on him, my gaze becoming blurry as the tears began to build back up.

I watched his face scrunch up a bit, his eyes squeezing shut as he pushed his cock deep down my throat, so deep I couldn’t breath and my nose was buried in the wet coarse hair that laid across his pubic bone. “Fuck…” he grunted out broken, the strength in his fingers around my wrists cutting into my skin, his other hand planted back to the door to help to balance himself as his head rolled back to his shoulders. “Jesus Christ…Jules, I’m gonna…”

The spit out words echoed loud in the room, my eyes glued to him as he pushed himself down my throat once more, stalling his hips right against my face. A few tears slipped down my cheeks before he sucked in a held breath, retracting his hips and dropping his face down to lock eyes with me.

Quickly pulling his cock from my used mouth, he reached down and grabbed around his shaft, his thick fingers stroking himself as he laid the head at the tip of my tongue. I struggled to catch my breath, my eyes flicking between him and his throbbing cock, his own breath hitching in his throat. Glancing up at him, his eyes fluttered, his mouth falling open right as I felt the hot splatter of his cum hit the flat of my tongue and a deep guttural groan slip past his puffy pink lips. He stroked himself a few more times, tiny grunts bursting out of his mouth as he milked the last remaining drops of his cum out onto my tongue.

“Christ,” he sighed out, desperately trying to catch his breath. He dropped the hold on his cock and reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. I stayed motionless, my big glassy eyes planted on his and my mouth wide open as I waited for his next demands. He caught my stare, a smile pulling over his fucked out face as a tiny chuckle slipped out.

Bringing his hand down, I drew in a breath as he pushed two of his fingers in my mouth, slipping them down my over-worked throat before swiping them across my cum covered tongue and dragging them over my lips and down my chin. His head tipped to the side a bit, watching his fingers as they ran down the jut of my throat, dragging his white load across my heated skin.

I pulled my tongue back into my mouth as he looked back into my eyes. “So fuckin’ pretty like this,” he whispered out to me, “If only you were naked.” His fingers uncurled from my wrists to let my arms fall to my sides as my eyes slowly drifted shut. Before I could move, he wrapped his hand around my neck, tenderly but willfully strong and snapped my attention back to his.

Gasping under the pressure of his hand, he slowly began moving me back to my feet, his darkened half lidded stare never once faltering from mine. I could feel the warmth seeping up from my center, my stomach filling with a heat that I had never felt before in my life. The rough pads of his fingers dug deep into the skin of my neck as he pushed me back up against the door, his body pressing up against mine. Leaning in, he tipped my head back slightly, my chest rising high with curious breaths. My eyes fell closed as I felt the wet warmth of his tongue press right at the jut of my bared throat, sucking lightly for a moment before he began to slide his tongue up the trail of his cum. He licked me clean, following it up over my chin and I let my face drop slightly just as his lips brushed at mine.

Pushing his forehead to mine, his hot thick breaths pelted out against my mouth. My hands slapped to the wooden door beside me, fingernails scraping as my eyes peeled open to stare at him. “Like Niall fuckin’ your mouth, don’t ya?”

I stayed silent, his hand slipping up to cup rough around my chin as the remaining bits of his bitter load began to seep into my tongue. “Like tastin’ me cum?” Darting eyes with him, my heart was beating rapid in my chest. “Like bein’ me dirty little slut, yeah?” he finished, a smirk falling over his mouth.

Nodding my head, he moved his hand to cup around my cheek, the slight brush of his nose at mine making my eyes fall closed. My chin tilted up, his mouth softly pressing to mine as he kissed me. He swallowed my shallow breaths, delicately slipping his tongue inside my mouth. We moved sweetly together, my hands reaching out to slip around his slim waist, fingers holding him against me. He moaned soft against my tongue, his still exposed and overly sensitive cock pressing up between our bodies. I pressed myself tighter into him as he rubbed his fingertips across my jaw.

Slipping his mouth from mine, I gulped in a breath, the slick side of his sweaty face resting at my cheek. I could feel the hot sweltering pelts of his breath pant out against my neck as he still struggled to settle himself. “You were-...fuck, you were amazin' Jules,” he whispered lowly between broken pants.

I slipped my hands up the sides of his back, leaning my face forward and burying my nose into the clothed crook of his neck. My eyes fluttered closed, his hand shifting to cup around the back of my head, brushing my damp wild blonde hair away from our faces. I hugged him tight, tighter than I thought I ever could and sucked in a jumbled breath, that sweet mustiness of his sweat filling my senses.

His pink lips brushed at the side of my neck, nose pushing at my ear. “I really wanna-...can I touch ya?” he breathed out, the question barring surprise to me and making me lift my face from the warm tuck of his neck. He met my stare, his eyes falling over the soft features of my face as his fingers brushed away strands of my hair that stuck to my cheek. My tummy flipped inside itself, my lips parting slightly as I reached up with my hand and grabbed at his fingers, slowly bringing his hand down to the front of my body.

Holding a solid breath in my lungs, he locked eyes with me, the tiniest grin pulling at his lips as his big hand slipped up under the bottom hem on my top. I dropped my fingers from his, the balmy heat of his palm penetrating straight through my body. He rubbed across my lower tummy, slow and teasingly soft. I watched his head tilt to the side a bit, the tip of his tongue pressing out of his mouth as his dark eyes soaked up my reaction.

My skin tingled under his touch, a path of goosebumps forming under his fingertips. I couldn't shake my stare from his, like a deeply intense game of chicken almost afraid to blink. I could feel my heart racing and I choked back a breath, sucking in my belly just as I felt his hand turn over and his rough knuckles press deep into my flesh as he slowly pushed his fingers down the front of my jeans.

Smirking at me, he brushed his fingers back and forth, the tips skimming just at the small patch of hair. My mouth fell open, my hand coming up from my side to grip around his wrist as I tipped my head back slightly against the door. Leaning in, his open mouth hovered over my throat and I whined out to him, his thumb working to undo the button of my pants just as we heard a loud knock at his front door.

Both of us freezing on the spot, I shot my eyes open as he pulled away from my neck, my chin dropping to look at him. He raised a finger to his lips, silently shushing me as we stood against the door, his other hand remaining still in my pants as our eyes darted wild.

Another loud bang followed by the yell of Niall's name.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, yanking his hand from my jeans, my heart sinking as I watched him tuck himself back into his own pants and zip himself up. I stood quiet, confused as my eyes watched him. “Don't fuckin' move, okay?” he whispered harsh to me, both his hands slapping to the door beside my head. “Stay right here.”

I nodded my head at him, words not being able to form on my tongue as he turned his face towards the rapturous knocking. He pushed away from me, backing up slightly and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand as he stepped out of the room. Resting my head back against the door, I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes flicking about as I strained to hear what was going on and who was at the door. Hushed whispers turned to Niall yelling and I whipped my head to the side, knitting my brows.

Quickly doing up my pants, I dipped my head past the door frame to peek out of the room. It was clear. Biting at my lip, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I began tip toeing down his hallway. I was uncertain as to what I was going to be met with, almost afraid to see who was at the door. Is it another girl? Someone that he is also seeing behind my back?

Coming to the end of his hallway, I rested my palms at the corner of the wall and leaned out slightly to see past the lounge towards his front door. My stomach was in knots, my heart pounding against my ears. The voices yelled louder, curse words flying left and right. It wasn't a girl. Actually, quite the opposite. My face scrunched up and my brows furrowed deep as I watched Niall grip hard to the door, purposely keeping it only open a few mere inches. I could see his ears blaring red, his head shaking as his voice bellowed out loud and filled the hallway. I watched intently and stayed silent, my eyes narrowing as Niall moved the door slightly to unknowingly let me get a glimpse of the man at the door.

Dressed in all black, with a leather jacket and a bald head, he was older, very much older, possibly in his 50's and I gasped in a breath as I watched his face screw up and his hand ball into his fist at his side.

Just as I was about to call out to Niall, he slammed the door closed in the man's face, both his hands coming up to run roughly through the front of his hair as he tipped his head down. He let out a frustrated groan, pulling at his hair before dropping his hands and throwing his head back. “Fuck!”

The floor creaked under my foot and Niall shot his eyes back over his shoulder at me. “Shit, Jules. What'd ya see?”

I shook my head, stepping out from behind the wall. “Nothing,” I said back, my voice weak as I swallowed. God, my throat is killing me. "Heard some yelling and I-”

“You gotta go home,” he barked out at me, cutting me off. My mouth dropped open, his eyes flicking with mine. “You can't fuckin' be here right now, Jules, okay? You gotta go. Now.”

#niall #niall horan #niall smut #niall fic #niall fanfic #ain #reposting #chapter 4 part 2 #omg rmr that one time that anon got mad that i would write smut in his son's room #fajljkghjhg #GOD what a time #anyways.....enjoy ;)

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holmquistewduckettwq53insur-blog · 5 years

Text

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SOURCES:

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hiro-melodie7228 · 6 years

Text

Just reposting this

It was a cold and dreary night in the world of Lumen, the pitter-patter of rain falling on the armored helmets of two guards could be heard. The gates to heaven, or Tenebris as they call it, a large wall with millions of brick towers attached with a large steel gate in between, was what these two brutes dared to guard the world from. In the darkness, I was careful to keep the splashing of my feet wading through the flooded water of the black top road to a minimum. They mustn’t hear me. The two began to converse, one turning to the other, muttering, “hey, have you heard of the druid boy?”

“Everyone on this side of the earth has heard of Bong-Ju, why?” the other guard replied, waving one of his camouflaged, buff arm, the other occupied by a gun. “I could use that” I thought to myself, hiding behind a bush, shivering, anticipating the moment I would take those guards down.

“I heard that he’s trying to escape to Tenebris. You know, the place where the scum live?”

“Scum like him? I doubt it. Why would he want to go there if that place just has a bunch of monsters.”

“Well, if he is coming, we should be ready.” The two soldiers were unaware of my presence as I plan a smoke grenade right under their noses. The egg shaped grenade rolled out of my hand, floating directly in between the two soldiers. Four seconds… Three seconds… Two seconds… one second… Boom! The grenade bursted, the two soldiers squealing like the pigs they are. I tugged the gun out of the left man’s hands, a glowing inferno exploding out of my hand, destroying the gate before I ran to my freedom in Tenebris. I am The Druid Boy of Lumen, a scoorage amongst the angels.

-------The Dullahan of Tenebris POV-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I tousle my cotton-candy pink hair in anticipation as I walk out of the plane and through a corridor leading to the inside of the airport, the normals, they stare upwards to see my always severed head in my hands. Their eyes widened and they began to shake as a great burst of flame came from where they thought my head should be. They pointed at me, screaming as if they were in excruciating pain and my very existence pained them to the point where they had the nerve to call me out. “Stop it with the screaming!” I yelled at the group, the inferno growing larger and larger until I felt a hand on my shoulder. This hand was soft, yet it was firm and that of sheer discipline. It felt so familiar…

“Xannie, leave them be, they just immigrated from Lumen, so they wouldn’t know what we’re like,” a woman, with my same wavy cotton candy hair, turned me around so I would face her. She was about a foot shorter than I was and had beautiful sun kissed skin. She was my mother. The only person I had in my life. Mom escorted me toward the baggage pickup area, demi-humans on every corner. I saw vampires, yokai, ghosts, sirens, cyclopes, giants, even a few centaurs. However, one centaur stook out to me, she eagerly clippity-clopped as her luggage finally arrived to her arms. The bag was HUGE, large enough to fit a horse! It was a wonder that some normal construction worker built the conveyor belt for something that big. Her luminous chestnut brown hair waved along with her movements as she seemed to gracefully lift the large baggage, a fellow centaur, seemingly her mother shown by her perfect posture and old shoulder padded dress from the 70’s said, “Hana, are you sure you can handle this? Your father and I can help.” ‘Hana’s’ supposed mother folded her hands as if she was about to pray.

“No thanks mom, I can handle this on my own,” Hana replied as she eagerly lugged her bags along, eventually spotting me. I turned my attention to my baggage, a large midnight black bag with wheels and an extendable handle. It floated above me, seemingly on it’s own accord, but, as if on instinct, I turned to the centaur girl, who held her hands toward the bag, clenching her teeth as if she was lifting it via telekinesis. The bag fell with a slam onto the floor in front of my size 14 feet, the handle facing the smoke resonating from my neck. “Hey!” I heard Hana’s voice say as her heavy panting got closer and closer to me.

“.....” I said nothing, staring up to see her smiling… at me? I fiddled with the itchy collar of my white button-up shirt, sweating and tapping my foot against the white tiled flooring. My glasses slipped off of my face, her hand gently clasping them in her shapely hand and handed them to me.

“You could’ve been in big trouble if these fell. My name is Hana, what’s your name mister?” her sparkling grey eyes glimmered with wonder and curiosity as her pointed ears twitched like that of a cat waiting for the right moment to pounce on a laser pointer.

“I-I Uhh… My name is Xanthus, b-but please call me Xannie.” I stuttered, my right hand taking the glasses, my muscular arm extending toward her. I quickly put my glasses on and lifted my head up to face her.

“Ooo!” she giggled harmoniously, my tanned face turning a slight shade of pink. “You’re quite tall if you can surpass a centaur, even though your head isn’t on your neck.” I clenched my fist, my eyes widening in disgust. Was this girl like the rest of them? “Oh dear, I hit a nerve, my apologies, Xannie was it?” she exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her, her expression frantic.

“Don’t worry, just don’t mention it to me again..” I replied. A shadow creeped up behind her, a cloak draped over their face. I could make out a face, in the darkness of the hood, it’s cheeks marked in red. It had markings? Yes, but these markings weren’t any ordinary face paint. The sideways crimson crescents glowed ominously in the shadow… These markings were those of a druid. It seemed to notice my staring, quickly fleeing out the automatic doors of the airport.

“What’re you looking at?” Hana asked, trying to look where I was look, which was towards the exit, advertisements for fast food and the airport itself on the doors.

“Druid…” I whispered, before rolling my bags’ wheels on the dingey star-patterned carpets towards the door, hana following soon after, gasping out in fear.

“You don’t mean The Druid of Lumen?” I froze. The Druid of Lumen was some silly urban legend about a young druid who lurked the streets of Lumen, trying to avoid execution and to escape. He did everything he possibly could, stealing from merchants, even killing when he was desperate. He was considered a symbol of freedom for the people suffering in Lumen, for the ones who could think for themselves, and for the demi-humans.

“Why would he be here?” I asked myself, wondering what would bring him to Orlando, Florida. “He got all the way here from Lumen?” I strutted out the doors, turning my head around to maximize my vision of the area. The Druid was gone… there was only a parking lot buzzing with the honks of cars and the yelling of raging drivers. Once again, I felt that same hand on my shoulder, my head turning to face my mother.

“Xannie, lets just go home now, it’s time…” My mother sighed, escorting me away to her rental toyota. I waved Hana goodbye as we temporarily parted ways.

------------The Druid Of Lumen POV------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I jumped into a taxi the second I found one, the driver saying, “where are you going?”. The car was suffocatingly hot, and a incredibly dingey. Did this guy even bother to take care of his car? I plugged my nose, trying to ignore all the nonsense just this once.

“Take me to the nearest hotel or homeless shelter,” I replied, my face grimacing in disgust, pinching my nose to avoid the smell of rotten eggs and pizza crust. The man simply nodded at my request and began to drive. A cold sweat dripped down the back of his thick neck, his short, partially shaved, curly blond hair drenched from the heat, as I tap my nimble fingers against my lap, patiently anticipating potential betrayal. Back in Lumen, you couldn’t trust anyone, unless they were rebelling alongside you, but here, who knows if I could trust anyone. We passed through the security of the airport to leave the place, the driver reached out his sweaty and bruised arm (Why would this man be so scarred?), placing a card into the slot and pulling it out soon after.

“So, you’re The Druid of Lumen?” the driver asked, as he turned the greyish steering wheel to the left out of the parking lot.

“If I said I was, what would you do about it, mister?” I grimaced, my face and body radiating with heat as I waited for an answer.

“I would say that I’m sorry for the smell, I was reassigned this car for work and well, the last person who drove this didn’t take good care of it.”

“So you wouldn’t take me back to Lumen?” I squinted at him, still suspicious of this mysterious driver until I noticed the bull horns protruding from his skull. That’s when I realized, this wasn’t a normal this was a Demi-Human, a Minotaur to be specific.

“No way! You’re a hero here, a sign of freedom!” The driver’s olive toned, tan face became visible to me in the mirror hanging from the car ceiling. His pretty green eyes glimmered with hope and inspiration, like he idolized me.

“I don’t want you to freak out, but I am The Druid of Lumen.” He gasped, a grin stretching across his face. He radiated no malice, only genuine happiness and excitement.

“Yessir! I won’t fr-freak out! B-By the way, I’m Nuona!” The man, now I know is Nuona, drove by several lights, looking like stars in a line. Stars. I want to reach the stars. I pressed my face against the car window as we passed three other cars, each different in their own ways. Whether it be color, structure, or license plate, they weren’t the same. We eventually drove up to a large building with a sign by it saying “hotel” by it in fancy bold lettering. “Here is where we stop sir. Here’s my number, call me whenever you need my services again!” Nuona says as he handed me a piece of paper with a bunch of numbers and dashes. I felt confused, looking up at him with my glowing eyes wrinkling at the edges from a grin stretching across my face. Maybe I needed to input this number into a phone? I didn’t know. I opened the door with a creak, waving the young minotaur a goodbye before strutting towards the hotel. “He was kinda cute” I thought to myself, shaking it off as I opened the door to the hotel.

--------------Dullahan of Tenebris POV-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walked into the kitchen of our new and empty house. The counter-tops of white marble looked as if they were to fall off the wooden bases. Crumbling. Like porcelain. The white and blue checkered flooring gave a sense of home. “Our home in crete had the same colors as these,” I thought to myself. My grip on my head loosened. I must look. Look at home.

“Xanthus!” My mother yelled, my grip becoming firm once more, “Isn’t this place great? It’s smaller but at least you won’t have to work so hard to support me..” She put a hand on my shoulder, leading me to a large window. The window lead to our backyard which was full of roses, carnations, lotus’s,- in short, it was like a garden of eden. “Look here, this is the beauty of a new life.”

“It’s a fresh start, mom. I’m glad I can live this new life with you,” I say, in awe of the beauty of our backyard. I pressed my face against the window. The colors. They were so much. A rainbow of flowers and plants of all kinds. The sun shined upon me, everything feeling so fresh, making me want to live here. I felt ready for whatever was going to be thrown at me.

Boy was I wrong.

#repost #oc canon

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