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northstarscowboyhat · 17 days ago

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i need you to do a deltarune yellow interpretation. I have seen NOONE do anyhting that would do it justice. PLEASE

Gosh, that's extremely high praise! A lot of this art is super old, but I might as well post what I had done for this concept! Lots of rambling below!

In this version/AU, Hometown is a very small impoverished farming community. Despite the recent struggles of losing many businesses to the larger human city nearby, it's still a close knit community of everyone knowing everyone! The Sunnysides own the biggest farm in the town and are very well known by all the residents - especially after Starlo, the eldest son of the Sunnysides, takes in Clover, a young human who wandered into the Sunnyside crops, disheveled and dirty with barely the clothes on their back. Aside from remembering their name, Clover claims to not remember anything else, such as where they came from or why they seemingly ran away from home.

Starlo takes Clover in, but Clover is a human in a town full of monsters that they've suddenly been thrusted into, without the history with one another everyone else has. Not only that, Clover's a bit of a troublemaker (at least in appearances), picking fights with bullies and struggling to connect to anyone. The only other monster they've connected with (aside from the Sunnysides) is Martlet, who is a college student in town. She started out as a babysitter looking for extra cash hired by Starlo, until she and Clover began a genuine friendship! They're besties and hang out all the time.

(Ignore that god awful Martlet design... I tried to make her resemble Berdly and oh god. Regret.)

Eventually, Clover stumbles upon the Dark World, and in it, a strange flower darkener who claims to be the prince of the Dark World. Very quickly, the Dark World becomes an escape for Clover. In the Light World, they're a weirdo outcast who has no friends their age. They feel like they only cause problems for everyone, especially Starlo, who has to work twice as hard in order to financially support them. But in the Dark World, they can be a hero, just like all the cool cowboys in their favorite Western films! All the Darkners love them and praise them as a hero, and Clover gets to rescue them from outlaws and save the day. The more time they spend in the Dark World, the less problems they're causing in the Light World, so it's a good thing, right? Flowey and his people need a hero!

(Basically, the Dark World would be a concept that's already established in universe in Chapter 1. This is sort of meant to parallel Starlo's North Star persona in UTY, because you guys know I love my Clover + Starlo parallels.).

(Bonus for all my fellow Starlo fans) Most of Starlo's time, when he isn't working at his family's farm, is spent doing part time jobs in order to raise Clover. He works part time at the local diner at the beginning of the story, leaving very little free time for himself or his interests. RIP bozo having to take responsibility (Orion and Starlo's dynamic would be flipped here, as Orion is the one with a lot more freedoms. He's a college student Martlet's age, and is very busy with his studies and extracurricular activities that he isn't home often, meanwhile Starlo is saddled with a ton of work).

The real story would begin when part of the Ketsukane family (freshly divorced, sorry) move back into Hometown after living away in the city. Chujin's ex wife Ceroba moves back into town with their daughter Kanako, who is the same age as Clover. The two... do not get along right away, which only irks Clover as Starlo is particularly close to Kanako. Kanako is instantly popular and well liked among their peers, and she might have some unchecked biases against humans she picked up from their father. Maybe journeying together in the Dark World would help them grow closer...?

(Again, please forgive this ugly old style. Was trying to go for a superhero theme for Kanako's Dark World design since she's a comic book fan.)

Some other things I didn't have art for

Dalv is the town's librarian! He's also on good terms with Clover, but he's also a bit of a reclusive and doesn't interact with people much.

Chujin was living in Hometown prior to Clover showing up, trying to bounce back from his divorce with his wife (it was on fairly good terms, but still, a massive life change). He claims to work remotely for an important company of some sort, but is secretive about the details. While he's well liked by the town, he's also very outspoken against humans.

Ceroba would also be recovering from the divorce, as she was a housewife her entire time with Chujin, and now needs to find herself as well as a career to support Kanako. She moves back into Hometown in hopes of reconnecting with her old friends and to give Kanako a much calmer school environment.

There have been an influx of missing children reports in the general area around Hometown. Strangely enough, they all seem to be young human children around Clover's age...

Also these guys in the Dark World..... Eh, I'm sure they're not important in the slightest.

#undertale yellow #uty #deltarune yellow au #uty au #the cowboy hat draws #Physically recoiling at all of these old arts but they were just rotting away in my folders #I really enjoyed working on this concept!#I just unfortunately started it during a very bad mental health/art crisis mood #So it sort of just fell off and I never finished it #(And I was very nervous about accidentally doing the same/similar ideas as someone else. Didn't know if that's something someone might be-#-upset about)#But with all the Deltarune Yellow hype rn might as well post these!#I had a vague plot lined out and everything but IDK if it's of interest so. Yea!#A lot of these decisions I would change now (don't look too closely at Flowey/Martlet please oh god)

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bitchface24-7 · 4 months ago

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V, you gotta be lacing your fics with something because I literally dreamed Jayvik last night… I’m fighting my demons on if I should write this but regardless I’m gonna throw the idea out there. Because who better than The Jayvik messiah to bless my feed once more.

Waitress!Reader, who is a new hire at a local bistro. Quickly becoming Jayce and Viktor's favorite waitress. After Viktor suggests Jayce take a break from all the fancy dinners and embrace a simpler style of dining. They are both just enamored by Readers hospitality after they mention it's their first time/first time in a while. Leaving a generous tip. (could be a tip or a tiiip)

Go crazy go stupid. I’m positive you will COOK.

ORDER UP! - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: Viktor and Jayce have horrendous eating habits. Too focused on their work to properly take at least a thirty-minute break to eat. You'd think after Jayce became a counsellor his eating habits would become better, nope! The “meals” they serve during meetings couldn’t even fill up a baby poro.

While Jayce was away as a counsellor, Viktor was alone in the lab. One day when he was incredibly frustrated, he took a break. He left the lab and went to a quaint diner called Roadside Revival. He ate amazing food and met a beautiful waitress; You. He needs to bring Jayce here STAT.

warnings: unhealthy eating habits, flirting, favouritism, pre-established JV (they want that cookie (you) SO BAD), reader is very sweet and called the boys honey and sugar; they love it like flowers in the sun, reader treats everyone else like Max from "2 Broke Girls" (one scene is inspired by the show), smoking, suggestive content sprinkled throughout (and especially at the end)

genre: m/m/f

p.s. the way this request was worded made me wheeze. THE JAYVIK MESSIAH?!?!?? Is that what I'm going go be known as? I'm not complaining! Does that make y'all my commune? Do I need to get a dark blue blanket and wear it cuntily?

Viktor wants to rip his hair out. The equations aren't equaling, the rune sequence isn't working, he's tired, his back hurts, he hasn't eaten in several hours, and he misses Jayce.

One of those problems gets a solution almost immediately, when Jayce walks through the lab doors with a beaming smile.

Viktor feels his lips twitch at the excitable energy Jayce exudes. His mere presence makes Viktor more relaxed.

“I’m starving! Those portions they give out are horrendous! I'm telling you, V, they're like five strands of spaghetti and two meatballs if you're lucky. I'm a big boy, I need to eat!”

Viktor smirks and slowly stands up from his chair, walking over to his partner, “You are a big boy but don't lie. Your eating habits are just as bad as mine.” Viktor pulls Jayce in close with his cane and kisses him, enjoying how Jayce surrounds him. His warmth, his scent. Him.

Jayce smiles into the kiss and pulls away with a small giggle, “Oh shut up. Speaking of food, have you eaten?”

Viktor looks away with a fake look of innocence.

“Viktor.”

“What?”

“Have you eaten today? A glass of sweet milk and a singular piece of toast don't count.”

There's a small silence before Viktor sighs dramatically, “No I haven't, BUT—” he says the last word loudly, to prevent Jayce from scolding him, “There’s this diner I've been frequenting, the Roadside Revival. Many different dishes, amazing portions, and fairly priced. I've been planning to take you there when we both had the time so we could get an actual tasty meal in this godforsaken city.”

Jayce quirks an eyebrow, “Really? Tell me more.” he states as he puts his hand on Viktor’s lower back as they leave and lock the lab.

He's been dying for some good food from— somewhere! He's getting sick of cooking all the time, he wants a place he can go to when he's lazy. With Viktor's praise, this might be the place.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your shift is going well, thank god. With how shitty some of the other shifts have been, you were wondering when you were going to crash out and hit a customer.

An annoying snapping takes you out of your thoughts, and you have to reign in your sigh. These two uppity academy students are treating you like a dog. You'll see if they appreciate the sentiment.

You sway over to their table, "Hey, what can I getcha?" Before the guy can even finish his sentence, you're snapping your fingers centimeters away from his face.

"Was that annoying?" You snap your fingers again and the two customers look stunned. "Is that obnoxious and rude?" You rhetorically ask, snapping once more, "Would you find that distracting if someone did that to you when you were working? Oh! You don't have a job, sorry. " The other guy snickers and you shoot him a glare. He shuts up. "I'm not on your side either buddy, you're just as bad as your friend for allowing him to act like that."

You look at snappy one last time, "You think this," You snap your fingers in his face, "is the sound that gets you service. I think this is the sound that dries up my vagina."

And with that, you saunter away, not taking their order.

You start to clean up the bar area when the jingle of the door catches your attention, you go to make your usual greeting, "Hi, welcome to Roadside Revival! What can I--" you stop in your tracks when you see your favourite customer Viktor and a man you've only seen on mugs and posters across town.

A beaming smile lights up your face, "Viktor, honey, you made it! I was wondering if you were coming in today! I would've had to drink the pitcher of sweet milk all on my own!"

Viktor dramatically gasps and raises a hand to his chest in mock offence, "That's betrayal of the highest order."

A smirk grazes your red lips, "That's what you get for making a lady wait. Your usual booth?"

Viktor smiles with a slight nod, you pick up two menus and bring him to what you consider to be the ultimate booth. It's right next to large windows, where you can get the warmth of the sun and a nice breeze of ac. There's quite a few trees so you're not blinded and can comfortably talk with anyone you're sitting with.

"Here ya go! Sorry for not introducing myself," You state to Viktor's companion, you point to your oval name badge and say your name, "and I'll be your waitress for today! I just got so excited seeing my favourite customer! So... can I start you off with any drinks?"

Viktor says nothing, his sweet milk pitcher is waiting for him. Jayce furrows his brows and says, "Coffee will do, thank you." You lightly scrunch your nose and say, "Fair warning Golden Boy, the coffee is kind of shit. But if you order any other variation, like a cappuccino, mocha, french vanilla, I have to make it. And it'll actually be consumable."

Jayce huffs a laugh, "It's Jayce. I'll take your advice then, may I please have an iced mocha?"

You giggle as you lean away from the handsome man, "A man after my own heart, think I'll call you sugar. With manners like that you're as sweet as can be."

You turn around to get their drinks, and because of this you don't see Viktor's smirk and Jayce's flushed face.

"Now you see why I like coming here." Viktor calmly states as he looks through the menu, Jayce's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

"Is she like that with everyone?"

Viktor looks up and lightly crooks his head to the side, silently telling Jayce to look over, there you are, a grimace on your face as a customer tries to flirt with you. He can't hear what you're saying, but he hears your tone, and it's irritated.

"No. She isn't."

And for some reason, Jayce smiles and straightens his spin, feeling special.

"Honey?" He questions. Viktor blushes and mumbles, "Because of my eyes. She said they remind her of honey and I'm just as sweet to look at."

Jayce laughs at his partners expression, and in his flustered state; Viktor kicks him underneath the booth with his stronger leg. Jayce yelps in pain. Viktor got the last laugh, his partner is making fun of him. How rude!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're hustling your ass off to try to keep the customers happy. Serving drinks, food, topping up coffee and water. Your energy is waning. You want to kill your co-worker.

She's currently getting fucked in the walk in freezer as you bust you ass off for ungrateful assholes. One older gentleman grunts, "Where's my waitress?! It's been fifteen minutes!" Before you can reply, a loud moan is heard throughout the diner, "She's cumming!" You say with a giggle, knowing the old man won't get the double-entendre.

You're finally able to bring the sweet milk and mocha to your-- now two favourite customers.

"You have an idea of what you want to eat?"

The two nod and hand you their menus. You can't help but smile at them, so sweet, so polite, so handsome.

God you wish you were your co-worker in the walk-in freezer getting your shit plowed by your honey and sugar. Fuck, they'd probably feel so good, and actually make you cum. Your poor purple bullet vibrator can finally take a break.

The rest of your shift went well, you tried your best to stay by Viktor and Jayce's table, trying to maintain your sanity. They leave an incredibly generous tip, like enough to pay your rent generous. You try to deny it, but they insist. You can't say no to them.

The only upside is what happens at the end of your shift, after you've closed up the diner.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slowly but surely, the other customers left. Jayce and Viktor stayed behind, offering to walk you home since it got dark out. Having playful banter, flirting, and too-long touches.

It's only when the three of you left the diner and were relaxing outside during the fresh evening breeze did what you've been fantasizing about was about to come to fruition.

You lean against the wall of the diner, pulling out a cigarette and light it. You take a small hit and appreciate the nicotine relaxing you. You feel a grasp on your wrist and look to see Viktor bring the cigarette up to his own lips. Jayce gasps.

"Viktor! Seriously?! You smoke? Isn't that bad, worse due to your condition."

Viktor exhales and the smoke comes out as a ring, "Let me be hypocritical Jayce. I'm dying, let me enjoy a few pleasures in life." his lips are tinted pink due to the residue of your lipstick on the filter of the cigarette.

You want to see his pale skin covered in kiss marks, bruises, and hickeys. You subtly look to Jayce, you want to see his hair messy, no longer swept up due to his pomade. You want to see scratch lines down his back, angry and red; maybe even a little bloody.

"There's more pleasure's in life than just smoking a cigarette." You say, hitting your cigarette again, the end lighting up a burnt orange; you flick the ask onto the floor and exhale the smoke. "Pretty sure your pretty boy here is more than willing to show you. What a polite man, he also take directions well." You state, remembering asking for Jayce to help with certain aspects of cleaning the diner and he did so; without question.

Viktor smirks and Jayce sputters.

"You're not wrong." Viktor adds, Jayce just flushes a darker red. You giggle and bring your cigarette to your lips, Viktor continues, "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you also follow instructions well?"

You smirk, giving Viktor the rest of the cigarette, his lips darken even more.

"Give me a good reason to."

Viktor and Jayce share a dark look. You feel your face lightly heat up.

"We'll get you to moan louder than your co-worker did in the back." his accent his thick, and Jayce bites his lip and adds, "And we won't stop until that pretty makeup you have on is smeared all over your face."

You hum and cross your arms over your chest, your tits moved up through the open unzipped portion of your dress. The two men's eyes dart down immediately; looking lecherously.

"So... your place or mine?"

Jayce smiles, his dimples popping through. He puts a hand on your lower back as you three start to walk.

"Ours." Viktor states, his cane thumping rhythmically on the sidewalk, "Unless you want to fuck in an allyway, I don't think any of us have the patience to walk to yours."

You nod, "Fair point."

You may not have gotten the dicking down you wanted during your shift, but at least you're getting it afterwards.

A win is a win.

The inspiration train hit me, and the cackles and wheezes I made when reading this request, oh jeez I sounded like I was dying. But anyway, chat did I cook? Love ya ❤️

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #jayce imagine #jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #jayvik #banners by cafekitsune

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softtdaisy · 1 year ago

Text

🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it.

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift.

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours.

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart.

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?”

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.”

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan.

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?”

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did.

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.”

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.”

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.”

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile.

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment.

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.”

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.”

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval.

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve.

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.”

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.”

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved.

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!”

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him.

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member.

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had.

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own.

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied.

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen story #max verstappen fic #max verstappen angst #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #my writing

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strawberrykidneystone · 3 months ago

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coffee coffee coffee

sevika x fem!reader

summary: you could smell the snow in the air as soon as you woke up this morning. you were running early for once, so you decided to have your coffee in instead of on the go today.

a/n: everything that y/n says she is also signing when with isha!!

SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO MY ARCANE X GILMORE GIRLS TWIN @lambilegs

tags: second person, fluff, gilmore girls au, diner owner!sevika, small town zaun, flirting by fighting, isha is your daughter, grumpy sevika x sunshine reader basically, mutual pining, yearning

ao3 version

when you opened your eyes as you heard your musical alarm go off this morning, you could feel it in your heart.

it snowed last night.

you scrambled up out of your bed and rushed to the window, throwing the doors open as you were greeted with a winter wonderland in zaun. there was a thick layer of fluffy white snow covering every inch of your beloved city, the crisp chill of the air sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

the world was so quiet as the last little specs of snow fell from the sky, you were able to catch one and watch the pattern melt into your palm. you could hear the squeals of kids having snowball fights down the road, finding a way to pass the time in the rare snow as they waited for their early morning bus.

suddenly, you could see the lights flickering in the corner of your eyes. whipping around with a grin on your face, your teenager was standing in the middle of your door frame with her brows furrowed.

‘hurry up or we won’t make it to sevika’s before school’ she signed hastily.

“appreciate the snow with me for a moment kid!” you whined and tugged her over by the sleeve of her freshly pressed uniform, holding her by her shoulders to force her to look out the window. isha huffed in annoyance and rolled her eyes, used to your antics. she folded her arms and looked out the window, nodding to herself since she knew that you wouldn’t relent unless she did as you said.

you rested your chin on her shoulder and looked out at the landscape in front of you, leaning your head against hers, “now take a deep breath in.”

the two of you took a deep breath in at the same time, the crisp cold air filling your lungs and letting it out almost as quickly as it was taken in.

you kissed the side of her head with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ and gave her a quick hug before prancing over to your closet and throwing open the doors. quickly laying out a basic business outfit, isha picked out matching jewelry for the colors that would match perfectly with your style. she also switched your radio on to the station you both liked, you swore you didn’t know what you would do without her. she was always ready before you with her uniform pressed from the night before and absolutely no wrinkles in her button-up.

humming along to the songs, smoothing out your skirt, and making small adjustments to your clothes as you looked over yourself in the mirror the two of you scurried down the stairs. isha grabbed her backpack and you threw on your purse. there wasn’t much snow, but you still had to trudge through it in your not-so-waterproof shoes. isha was always one step ahead of you, already clearing off the windshield and had the heater running in the car so it was toasty by the time you got in. hastily bucking your seatbelts as you backed out of your unshoveled driveway, the two of you blasted your morning playlist with isha teasing you by shoving her fingers in her ears as you sang along. you stuck your tongue out at her and sang even louder than before.

it was only about a 5-minute drive down one of the only main roads in zaun, easily finding parking on the side of the street. you debated just leaving your car running as you put it into park, but decided against it since there was enough time to sit down for breakfast for once. you parked your car and practically skipped down the sidewalk with isha into your favorite diner, sevika’s. well, it was also the only diner in town. the two of you didn’t come for the food, not that it wasn’t half bad, but sevika special ordered coffee from somewhere she refused to tell you even after pestering her all these years that was just so delicious.

the bells in the doorway alerted the diner of your presence, the snow on the bottom of your shoes quickly removed as you scuffed your feet onto the welcome mat as you made your way to your regular seat. isha almost bumped into your back when you stopped to remove the snow from your shoes, warning you a flick on the back of your neck. you squawked in surprise and gave her a lightherted offended look before fading into a playful smile. you greeted everyone who had said hi when you first came in, a warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach formed with the familiarity that everyone in the town had with each other. the cushions of the chairs didn’t support your hips the same way that they did when you first came to the small town, but you still loved it all the same.

except for that big window that looked into jayce’s ice cream shop, you were definitely not a fan. and the walls desperately needed to be painted. maybe you could convince sevika to paint it a nice teal someday.

glancing around, you didn’t see sevika nor jinx around, probably restocking in the back somewhere since everyone else in the diner had their meals in front of them. isha plopped down into the seat across from you and slid her backpack under the table, narrowly missing your feet.

“well, it looks like it’s ‘fill your own coffee day,’” you said declaratively. setting your purse on the chair next to you and folding your jacket over the back of your own chain. isha shook her head, signing ‘you know sevika won’t like that’ before crossing her arms.

“well then maybe she should’ve been here when we got here,” you countered. you walked behind the counter with confidence and grabbed the coffee pot that was practically begging to be poured into a cup. you happily hummed a tune to yourself and grabbed 2 of the largest mugs from under the counter. after pouring the steamy liquid gold into your cups, you carefully dodged the coffee that spilled over the edges as you popped the tops on.

“hey hun, could i get a refill?” margot called out from the table next to yours, holding up one of the bowl-sized mugs that sevika carried.

“it would be my pleasure,” you chirped and topped off her cup with a majority of the rest of the pot.

“thanks doll,” margot said with a tip of her cup in appreciation, a mischievous smile on her face.

you glanced over at isha, who gave you a teasing look, ‘waitress, can i get my coffee?’

“in a sec i gotta make another pot,” you said with a ruffle to her brown and blue striped hair.

she huffed in annoyance and smoothed out the top of her hair again, running her fingers through the soft strands. currently, it was a somewhat grown-out shag that she was conflicted in either growing out or trimming up again. or maybe chopping it all off, who knows? maybe she could convince you to dye all of her hair blue next time.

meanwhile, you were busy putting the pot back onto the warmer and throwing away the used coffee filter into the trash. just as you put in a new filter and filled it up with the crushed beans, sevika stepped out of the back room door. she immediately spotted you and stormed over.

“what have i said about you being behind the counter?” she barked, glaring down at you.

you rolled your eyes and closed the top of the coffeemaker, pressing the buttons that started brewing a new pot. “well i wouldn’t have been behind the counter if someone was here to serve me when i got here,” you retorted, smiling sweetly up at her.

sevika ran her hand down her face and pointed across the bar counter, “out.”

“you’re so grumpy in the mornings,” you mumbled and reached to grab the two coffees you filled earlier.

“woah woah woah, no,” she said and took the coffees from you before you had a chance to touch them, “go sit down and i will bring your coffee to you.”

“but it’s right there,” you whined and exaggeratedly reached for the two mugs.

“no,” she said gruffly, swatting your hands away.

“but just look at my child! she is coffee-less and it’s all your fault!” you said in a slightly nastily voice, gesturing over to isha who was sticking out her bottom lip and giving her best doe eyes.

sevika groaned and shoved the coffees into you hands, “fine. take them before i change my mind.”

you immediately lit up and smiled brightly at her, “thanks sevi-bear!”

“don’t call me that,” she said in an annoyed tone with no actual bite in it as you returned triumphantly to your table.

jinx skipped out of the door that led upstairs and froze in place as she faced sevika’s icy stare, “where have you been?”

“uh upstairs?” jinx said with an obvious point up towards the roof.

sevika gave her a very miffed look that you caught with a grin, quickly quipping, “you know if you keep making that face it’ll freeze like that.”

she groaned with a shake of her head and waving jinx off, turning her attention down to her restock paper, “just go take the peanut gallery’s order.”

“yes boss!” jinx said with a giggle, tying on her waist apron and pulling out her notepad while she looked at the two of you expectantly.

“soooo what’ll it be this morning girls?”

“i’ll have the blueberry pancakes with more coffee,” you said definitively, already done with your first cup.

jinx glanced over her shoulder with a smirk and scribbled down your order, “careful sweets, every time you make your own coffee you break poor sevika’s heart!”

“heard that from all the way upstairs huh?”

jinx blew a raspberry and threw her head back with a laugh, “please, i’m sure they heard you two bicker across town!”

“well what can i ask, i like to keep things interesting,” you said with a sweet smile and a shrug.

“interesting is right,” sevika mumbled under her breath.

“i heard that!” you called across the room, sevika responding with an eye roll and you sticking your tongue out at her.

“what about you isha?” jinx looked over at her with a smile.

‘banana french toast and more coffee’ she signed with a toothy grin, happy that you didn’t have to translate for her since jinx was thoroughly fluent in sign language.

“good choices all around, it’ll be out in a sec,” she concluded, giving isha’s hair a quick ruffle before sending the order back to the kitchen.

you chuckled as you watched isha fix her hair for the second time that morning, brushing a small cowlick she had back into place.

‘you really need to shovel the driveway’ isha signed with a concerned look on her face.

“i know i know, but we haven’t gotten stuck yet! and that’s what i’m banking on,” you said with a grin, isha disapprovingly shaking her head.

sevika stood at the head of your table and filled up your coffee cups almost to the brim, then paused before looking between the two of you, “you know that drinking too much caffeine can turn your blood not sludge right?”

“then sludge we will be! keep the coffee coming please,” you said as you cheered your mug with isha’s, the two of you sharing a smile over the brim of your cups.

sevika let out an exhausted sigh and went on filling up other customers’ cups.

the food you ordered was brought out shortly after and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, isha reading her latest book while you caught up on the local paper. jinx had refilled your cups one more time, ruffling your hair as she left which you squawked at in offense. you combed your fingers through your hair to straighten it out once again, looking over the arts section of the paper, oblivious to sevika’s stolen glances your way.

after wiping your mouth with a napkin and fixing your lipstick in your pocket mirror, you glanced at your watch with a suck of your teeth. “you gotta get going if you’re gonna make the bus kid,” you alerted isha with a fond smile and you watched her quickly pack up her backpack.

‘bye mom, i love you’ she signed as she got up and slung the heavy bag over her shoulder. you beckoned her close as she was about to pass your seat and grabbed her face, pressing a kiss into the side of her head. she made a teasing disgusted face at you that you happily returned, waving her goodbye, “bye kid, love you!”

without even looking up, sevika handed her a to go cup filled with coffee that she happily took with her, signing a quick ‘thank you’.

sighing in content, you finished up your coffee and grabbed your purse as you walked over to the register. you help up your order paper between two fingers as you leaned your forearms on the counter, “ring me up sevi.”

she responded with a grunt that you happily mimicked in a deep tone as you gave you your change, shoving the receipt and loose coins into your purse.

you held out your hand expectantly, making a grabby motion.

sevika looked down at your hand and up at you with an eyebrow raised, "use your words."

you groaned and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, "you already know what i'm going to ask."

"you won't get anything if you don't ask for it."

"oh really? you'd do anything i asked?" you said with a flutter fo your lashes, leaning in close over the counter.

"depends what you ask for," she said in a slightly lower octave and as you looked into her eyes leaning in closer with about an inch of space in between your noses.

you bit your lip and let your eyesight flick down to her lips for a split second, something that sevika definitely took note of. the tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife, neither of you saying anything for a good minute as if to dare the other to cross the line between friends and lovers. god she smelled good, a mix of fresh coffee, something woody, and cigarettes you knew she smoked behind the diner on her breaks. her lips were slightly parted, the gap between her teeth barely visible with the old scar that definitely had a story she hasn't told you about yet, the shine of her lips matching the lambret piercing she had below her lower lip that she had gotten recently. her hands were planted firmly on the counter with her flannel comfortably rolled up to her elbows that showed off her veiny forearm with her gold one on the opposite side, and you couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach at having her so close to you.

you unconsciously leaned in closer until an alarm on your phone went off, a reminder that you had to leave for work or you would be late. you swallowed thickly and pulled back to being behind the counter once again, clearing your throat, "a coffee to go... please."

"coming right up," she said in a completely unbothered tone, but to be honest, she was screaming on the inside and felt nauseous. you always smelled sweet, she didn't even mind your coffee breath. but she was scared to make the first step and mess up a good thing, nothing would be the same if you crossed the line between friends and lovers. at least not so publically. she daydreamed about taking you on the perfect date where everything played out like a fairytail that ended with you, sevika, and isha all being one happy family. and maybe another baby for the two of you.

but that's all it was, a daydream. for now, she was just the woman that served you coffee.

she filled up a to-go cup almost to the brim and carefully put the top on, sliding it over the counter to you with a half-smile, "one to go cup, only because you said please."

"thanks sev," you said genuinely, taking the cup from her with a small brush of your fingers against hers. you hoped she didn't see your flushed face as you practically ran out the door to your car, hauling ass to the independence inn to start your day.

"god when are you two going to finally get together?" jinx whined as she leaned against the counter, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"don't you have school to get to?" she said curtly, very obviously avoiding the topic.

"yeah yeah, just know i'm rooting for you!" she said in a sing-song voice, chucking her apron to the back and skipping off to school with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

sevika signed and stared down at the counter. yeah, she was totally screwed.

the next morning, you woke up with the same feeling as yesterday.

it snowed again.

this time, it was a slightly less peaceful scene to wake up to.

aka, it looked like a lumberjack way shoveling your driveway.

“hey!” you called out, sticking your torso out the window and holding on tightly to the windowsill.

sevika paused her shoveling and stuck her shovel standing up into the snow beside her. she was wearing her signature flannel with a black jacket over it, loose-fitting jeans, and a beanie on her head inside of the usual baseball cap for extra warmth. she put her hands on her hips and called out, “why didn’t you shovel your driveway dumbass?”

“i don’t have to shovel it because you always get mad and do it for me!” you yelled back, a toothy grin on your face.

“yeah yeah,” she said dismissively and waved her hand around. if her face hadn’t already been slightly flushed from the cold, you would’ve noticed the blush on her cheeks.

she would move mountains for you if you only asked.

you giggled and closed your window, a warm feeling in your chest bloomed even with the cold air in your room.

you could get used to waking up to a grumpy lumberjack.

a/n: i think the sign that isha and y/n would make for sevika’s would be an ‘s’ and ‘coffee’

also i hate pencil skirts

part 2

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds @vangoes @vikaswife @jiungmcvv @local-enby

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rosenclaws · 7 months ago

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Different Side of the Track || 50's Greaser!Logan smut

summary: All your life your parents had created the perfect image of their daughter that you were forced to fit into but when you went off to college and came back with a degree they were nothing but ashamed. Claimed that it wasn't a ladies place to be educated like that. So why not ruin their good family image even more and sleep with the older hot and mysterious man with a motorcycle.

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, fem!reader, breast play, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, borderline abusive family, sexism, harassment from a group of assholes, violent Logan.

wc: 4.6k

halloween masterlist || join my discord!

a/n: It's my birthday! So to celebrate I wrote this fic because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and god he's hot. Also I didn't really try to do proper 50's talk because I'm lazy and I cannot handle all the research jaldfk;s. This ended up a little angstier than normal, as my fics usually do lol. The ending isn't my favorite but I tried im sorry asdfjkl. Okay anyways I really hope you like it!

You truly hated this town. College was a breath of fresh air and while it wasn’t always easy, it was better than home. You got your degree, proudest day of your life. Even if your parents didn’t show up. Even if you had to smile in the picture by yourself, watching everyone else celebrate with their families. Your parents never understood your want to go to college.

You thought they’d be proud but if anything they were ashamed. They think that a woman pursuing higher education was unladylike. That a woman's place was to stay at home and take care of the kids. They were embarrassed of you, refused to acknowledge any of your achievements.

You wished you could have stayed in your college town but then you got the letter. Your grandmother had passed and you needed to come home. You were heartbroken. Your grandmother was the only one to support you, and helped you when you worked countless hours at the diner to pay for it. She celebrated when the acceptance letter came in and she gave you the biggest hug when you left.

Coming home was a no-brainer, needing to be here for her funeral but now you’re stuck at home with your parents and life is miserable. You were counting down the days until you could get out of here again. You spent as much time as you could out of the house.

Going to work, dreaming of another life. Doing literally anything you could to stay out and away from your parents. That’s how you found yourself here. Taking midnight shifts at the diner to stare at the man sitting at the counter.

Logan. It was sewed onto the patch on his jumpsuit. You don’t even know his last name but you do know that you want to know everything about him. He worked at the mechanic shop right across the street. He was dark, brooding, mysterious. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just ordered one black coffee and sat there with the paper. This was a small town and you had never seen or heard of him before.

“You’ll catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth there pumpkin.” You feel a hand on your jaw and you swat it away. Betty, your coworker was grinning like a madwoman. She was a sweet old lady who has worked at this diner for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Oh hush.” You look down at your order sheet. Sketches of your patrons fill the empty sheets. Mostly drawings of Logan.

“I don’t blame you sweetheart, he’s a dreamboat if I’ve ever seen one.” She sighs dreamily as she looks at him.

“Who is he?”

“Not sure, rolled into town one day. Plenty of rumors, though, say that he was an army guy. Some say that he’s running from the law.” You gasp at the idea.

He couldn’t be a convict could he? You’d never met anyone like that. Though, you feel yourself grow curious instead of fearful. Your whole life you lived in the perfect world. Perfect family with a lot of money and a perfect reputation to uphold. You got the perfect grades, had the perfect friends and still your life felt anything but perfect. You craved something more, needed it. You couldn’t live the rest of your life as someone's housewife. That wasn’t your dream.

“Looks like he needs a refill..” Betty nudges your arm and pushes you forward. You eye the apple pie sitting in the case and steal a slice. No better way to get a man to talk than give him pie right? Clearing your throat you head over and put on a smile.

“Hi Logan.” He looks up from the paper with his usual stony face. A beat passes and he doesn’t speak.

“This is for you, on the house.” You place the pie down in front of him. You shift nervously in your spot as you pour coffee into his cup. He’s never told you his name, does he think you’re a freak or something?

“It’s on your uniform, you know. Your name.” You wince at how horribly awkward this feels. He looks down.

“That supposed to be me?” He grunts out. You tilt your head in confusion before following his gaze. Your guest checks with drawings all over them. Drawings of Logan. You slam your hands down and stuff them in your pocket.

“No! I mean, yes but it’s nothing. Just drawings I. I’m sorry.” Logan just looks at you and you walk off in shame.

Mentally kicking yourself as you sulk back to the kitchen. Betty takes over serving him as you silently wait on the remaining people. By the time your shift is over your back aches and you’re still replaying that moment in your head.

“See you tomorrow Betty!” You say as you put on your coat.

“Hold on dear, this is for you.” She hands you a napkin and winks. Confused, you open it up to see messy handwriting.

Thanks for the pie doll

-Logan

Logan has come by every night since then. Ordering one black coffee and you sneak him whatever pie is left. Sometimes it’s apple, other days it’s pecan. Today’s pie is pumpkin. Just in time for the fall season. He’s still a man of few words but he’s always polite. Pays and says thank you with that handsome voice of his. You’ve gathered some information on him. Mostly from the town gossip.

The group of boys, greasers who would often come by and cause a ruckus, idolized him. He drove a motorcycle, fixed cars, and smoked like there was no tomorrow. In some weird way he’s become their parental figure. Not that he really gave a shit but he worked with them at the shop and he took care of them when he needed to. He strolled in again today. This time he looks at you and throws you a wink. It’s a little routine the two of you have now. Not much talking but it’s nice. You think you’ll be able to get him to open up soon enough.

“Thanks doll.” Logan says as he sits on the worn stool. You hand him his coffee and pie, already prepared just the way he likes it.

“So, do I get to know your last name yet?” He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

“How about you fetch me a napkin first. Then I’ll think about it.” You roll your eyes playfully and he smiles. The door jingles and you hear the sound of obnoxious laughing. You look up to see the jerkiest looking boys you’ve ever seen. They wore letterman jackets that seemed too small and talked too loud.

One of the boys, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar whistles at you. You hold back a scoff as you walk over to their table. They’re looking you up and down with a gaze that makes you shiver. Absolute jerks.

“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be a good girl and get us some milkshakes.” You clench your jaw as you jot down their order.

It dawns on you that you know exactly who that guy is. David Scott. He was in your high school class. Quarterback, the popular guy every girl in school wanted, and the worst human being you’ve ever met. He was nothing but a no good bully. It seems fitting he’s never truly moved on from this town as he was dumber than a bag of rocks. Logan catches your eyes as you head back to the counter. Preparing their order and trying to tune out their annoyingly loud voices. Before you head back with their order you top off Logan’s coffee.

“You know drinking this much caffeine can’t be good for you.” You say.

“And yet you’re still serving me.” He shoots back. You shrug your shoulders and smile, he’s got you there.

“Hey! You done serving grandpa over there.” Logan growls and his grip tightens on his cup.

“Ignore them, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” You say under your breath. You bring the tray of drink over and set them down.

“Anything else?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“Nope.” David whispers something to his friend before moving his hand and spilling his shake all over you and the floor. His friends burst out laughing and you bend down to clean up the mess. Counting down the seconds until they leave. You’re too focused on cleaning to hear David whisper to his friend.

“Watch this.” You hear the stool fall and suddenly you’re pushed to the ground.

“Get off me!” You turn around and see Logan holding David by the collar of his shirt. Teeth bared and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Logan!” You scramble to your feet as he shoves David into the booth.

“Think you’re funny bub? You’re lucky she’s here or I’d beat you to a pulp.” He growls, eyeing his friends who are now cowering in fear. You stand stunned as Logan seems to command the room.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to scram or I’ll make good on my promise.” He rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and grins. You’ve never seen a group of boys in so much panic.

“And don’t forget to pay.” Logan says with a smirk. They throw down more than enough money and bolt out the door.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as Logan seems to calm down.

“Fuckin’ idiots.” He shakes his head and gently pushes you away from the mess.

“Broken glass doll, gotta be careful.” Silently the two of you clean up the mess, him scooping up the glass and you cleaning the table.

You watch carefully as he handles the glass, watching to make sure he doesn’t cut himself. You see a piece of glass slice his hand and you hurry to the back to get a band aid. However when you come back the cut is gone, maybe it was just strawberry? The clock strikes 4am and the new waitress comes through the door, relieving you of your duties. He waits for you to clock out and walks you out the door.

“Thank you again Logan.” He just shrugs and lights a cigarette.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers and you accept. The walk is silent as you head to your home. You eye his cigarette and he notices. He holds it out to you and you take it. Taking a puff and immediately coughing it back up. Logan chuckles as he takes it back.

“Never smoked before?” You shake your head and he just smiles. Figures.

You’re much too sweet to have done anything bad. Just looking at the houses around him he knows that you’re as high society as they come. When you reach your house Logan stands on the sidewalk, watching as you walk up the driveway. You look at your door and then turn around to hurry back to Logan. Leaning in you kiss his cheek and he almost drops his cigarette.

“Bye Logan.” You bite your lip as you slowly walk back. As you walk through the door you hear him call to you.

“Howlett, my last name is Howlett.”

Your sweet night with Logan turned sour the minute you woke up. Your parents were down at the breakfast table. Scowling with disappointed looks on their face. Oh great what else is new.

“You need to quit.” Your dad says and you laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for us to tell people you’re working at a diner? You come home smelling like smoke? It’s insulting the family!” Your mother hisses and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You knew they were cruel but to hear those words from your own mother. It hurt.

“I am an adult, I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“As long as you’re living here you do. Now go down and tell them or I will.” Your father stands and stares you down. You feel so fucking helpless. It’s true. You’re stuck here and the money you’ve saved up isn’t enough to get out of here just yet.

You storm out of the house, letting the tears fall once you’re out of their view. The walk to the diner is miserable. You don’t want to quit, you like your job. Tears fall as you tell your manager, apologizing and leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. You hated this. You longed to be free and now you’re trapped at home.

Sitting on a bench outside of the diner you let yourself cry. Not wanting your parents to see any sign of weakness from you.

“Hey, everything okay doll?” You look up and see a blurry Logan from your watery eyes. He’s got grease and oil on his face and suit. Wiping his hands with a rag. You shake your head and Logan sits next to you.

“My parents made me quit.” He scoffs in disbelief.

Oh Logan knows all about your father. He wasn’t sure until last night but once he saw your house he knew exactly who your family was. Flaunting their money and status to spit on those lower than them. He serviced your fathers car a few times. Adding pointless upgrades. On the bright side he charges him double and your father doesn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s bullshit.” Logan says angrily. You’ve told him about your life. How disrespectful your parents are. How stupid they can be, anyone should be proud of their daughter getting a degree but they think it’s shameful. You’re smart, pretty, a real perfect girl.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say in such a defeated tone.

“You can always spend time at my work, don’t know if it’s the kind of place you’re used to hanging around but-” He gets cut off as you lunge at him. Hugging him tightly as you seek comfort in his arms. He freezes but slowly places his arms around you. Your perfectly crisp and clean dress was now dirty by his hands but you don’t care.

“I owe you so much Logan, you’ve been a real life saver.” You don’t want to let go. He’s toned, even with the jumpsuit over him. He’s strong and his arms are so warm and welcoming.

“Don’t worry about it doll, can’t stand to see a pretty girl like you so upset.” You lean up and kiss his cheek again. He grins as you scoot closer to him. Suddenly he pushes you back. You’re confused until you see your father pulling up next to the diner. Oh god did he see anything?

“You quit?” He asks, glaring at the dirt on your dress.

“Yes. I quit.” You say unhappily but he doesn’t care. He shifts his eyes to Logan.

“What happened there?” He says accusingly, you know your father wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Logan despite Logan being much stronger. It’s the egotistical nature of him.

“She fell, I caught her.” Logan lies so easily. Your father hums and drops it to your relief.

“I need you to look at my car tomorrow, something’s wrong with the brakes.”

“Got it.” Logan says casually and you can see your father roll his eyes. He drives off leaving the two of you on the bench.

“Say, why don’t you come by with your father tomorrow. I’d be happy to show you a few things” Logan offers, a flirty tone to his voice.

He walks off before you can respond, needing to get back to work. You throw the idea around in your head as you head back home. There’s no denying that Logan is hot. Really hot. He’s everything your parents hate. Lower class, older, doesn’t care about their status. It would drive them insane if you started to hang around a guy like him.

Though you don’t want to just use him to get back at your parents. You really do like him. It’s a win win in your head. Smiling to yourself you already start to pick out your outfit for tomorrow.

Ready to cause a little chaos.

Your father didn’t understand why you wanted to come with him but you gave him so stupid excuse and he bought it. Your father pulled the car in and threw the keys at Logan. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Logan does it for you. Despite Logan being much more knowledgeable about cars, your father still talks down to him. It’s rude and classist and you hate it.

“I’d like to stay, you know, make sure nothing goes wrong.” Your father scoffs but leaves you be.

“He’s real lucky I don’t punch his lights out.” Logan mutters as he pops the hood of his car.

“I’m really sorry, you don’t deserve that.” Logan shrugs. He’s used to it by this point.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” He leans over and kisses your cheek.

He wipes off a seat for you to sit on and you watch him work. There’s something about the way he moves that’s just…attractive. His muscles strain in his jumpsuit, sweat drips down his face. And the noises, god the noises. The grunts when he moves something heavy. Then he does the unthinkable. He unzips his jumpsuit, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. Leaving him in just a white tank top.

Now you really have a show. You don’t know how much time has passed and you don’t care. Slowly the garage empties as people head to lunch until it’s just you and Logan. Logan can feel your eyes on him. In fact he loves it. Your cute face is staring at him like a piece of meat. He can see you shift on the leather stool. He can smell how bad you want him. It’s desperate, almost pathetic how badly you want him. He stands up, making sure to flex his arms as he sets down the wrench.

“You alright doll, you look a little hot?” Logan feigns concern as he steps closer to you. Placing his hands on the workshop table. Caging you in.

“I’m okay.” You eye his chest shamelessly, eyes traveling down to the bulge in his suit.

“Yeah? I don’t know…” He slowly takes your sweater off. Leaving your arms bare and your cleavage on show for him.

“I’m not sweet doll, not gonna treat you like a good girl.” He growls in your ear and you whimper. Oh you need him bad.

“I’ll break a sweet thing like you, but something tells me you want that.” You grab his face and smash your lips to his. It’s messy and dirty, teeth knocking against each other as you fight for dominance. Logan slips his hands under your dress, lifting you up to the workbench and stepping in between your legs. Your hands are locked in his hair. Tugging hard as he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth. His hands rip your dress at the top. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck leaving sloppy wet kisses until he reaches your boobs.

“Fuck.” He squeezes your chest roughly, purring at the feeling of them in his hands.

“So cute.” He says with a wink as he leans down and bites your nipples roughly. He promised he wouldn’t be nice and he meant it. He shamelessly grinds his bulge against your wet panties.

“Dirty girl, letting a no good mechanic touch you like this. What would your daddy say hm?” He taunts as his hands move to slip up your dress. Pulling your panties down and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Who fucking cares?” You spit out as you grind your hips. Soaking his suit with how wet he’s made you.

“Oh, pretty girls got a mouth on her.”

“Just hurry up!” You whine as you slip your hands under his tank top.

Lifting it over his head so you could get the view of his muscular body. He unties his jumpsuit and yanks it down, letting his hard cock free. To your surprise he picks you up and brings you to your dads car.

“Turn around.” He lifts your dress up and bends you over the hood of the car. His hands run across your ass, squeezing and admiring the view as he slowly grinds his cock along it. The tip of his dick slides in and you moan.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it doll.” He says cockily as he renders you utterly speechless.

The stretch is unbelievably amazing as he bottoms out. You whine as you feel every vein, every twitch of his cock inside of you. He’s so big. Everything about him is big. His presence, his arms, his cock. He was just big. He barely gives you anytime to adjust before fucking hard into you. Your hands claw for anything to hold onto. The hood of the car is too slippery so Logan just pins your arms behind your back instead.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Logan huffs as he leans down to bite your ear. His pace is relentless. Pounding the words right out of you.

“Letting me fuck you on your daddies car.” He puff his chest out proudly. He’s tearing you apart on your asshole fathers car. Making you moan his name as he desecrates his car.

“Feels so good Logan. Oh god!” His cock hitting that perfect spot in you every time. Over and over. It’s unrelenting. You involuntarily shift your hips. The pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Where are you going doll? I’m not done with you yet.” He lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, pulling you back on his cock with a bruising grip.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg wildly as you move your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Not planning on it.” He tilts his head back in pleasure as he pounds into you. He feels you clenching tightly around him. Your legs are quivering under him. There’s grease smudged all over your body, your face.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the windshield. You’re completely disheveled, hair a mess. Makeup smeared and clothes torn. You look absolutely filthy and you love it. You can see Logan’s abs flexing as he thrusts his hips. His hands run up your sides. Taking you by the shoulders to slam you back on his cock. A weak cry leaves your throat with every thrust. Finally you break. A desperate, strangled moan as your body quakes. Shaking and rocking you right to your core.

“That’s it doll, I’ve got you.” He leans down and nudges his nose into your neck. Kissing softly as his thrusts slow just for a moment. Letting you breathe. You’ve never felt more happy in your life.

Logan kisses the side of your head as his hips grow sloppy. Chasing his release and savoring the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With a loud groan he pulls out and finishes on your ass. Your eyes close as your body feels like it's melting. You can barely stand. Logan wipes you down with a clean rag, loving how fucked you appear to be.

“I got you.” He gently picks you up and brings you to a bench. Laying his clean jacket over you as you will your legs to stop shaking.

“You alright?” He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he redresses himself. Somehow it’s like he’s back to normal while you’re wrecked.

“Perfect, oh my god you’re amazing.” You lean back into the bench and sigh happily.

“What the hell is going on here?!” You shoot up and see your father storming towards you angrily. You’re a mess and you don’t think Logan can lie his way out of this one. He’s angry. Really angry.

“You are nothing but a disappointment and you have been ever since you were born! A disgrace to the whole family! To the town! Doing such horrible things with the likes of him.” He snarls as he points at Logan. You’re stunned into silence.

“I have the right mind to never let you out of the house again you ungrateful little-”

Logan steps in front of him and he tries to hit Logan right in the face but fails miserably. You gasp as Logan pushes him against his car. You watch as boney claws shoot from his hands. Your father squirms in fear as the tips of his sharp claws grow closer to his neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan growls.

“You’re a real fucking dick and a sorry excuse for a father. If I ever see you come near her again I’ll fucking kill you.” He lets go of your father and watches as he runs away. Yelling about mutant freaks. Logan turns back to you, a cold look settling on his face when he sees your face. Now you know his secret.

“You’re a mutant.” You say in awe. To his shock you reach out for him instead of running away.

“I am.” You admire the claws, how amazing.

“Beautiful.” His mouth gapes open as you pull him closer.

For once someone is looking at him like he’s normal, like he’s not a freak of nature. He longs for this but he knows your dad won’t go down quietly. He’ll tell the whole town.

“Look doll, you’re too good for this town. You’re too good for me.” He brushes your cheek softly.

“I can’t stay here anymore and you need to go home. Pretend you never met me. You’re a smart girl and you have a bright future ahead of you.” Logan takes his hand away and walks away.

“Logan!” You throw off his jacket, you're limping slightly but you refuse to let him go. He’s quick on his feet, already shedding his work clothes for his normal ones. A leather jacket thrown over his tank top. His motorcycle is out back. He’s got a backpack already packed and ready to go. Like he was waiting for this moment to happen.

“Take me with you!” You stand in front of his bike.

“What?” He asks in disbelief.

“Please, I hate this town. I have money saved. I can help but please don’t leave me.” You move closer to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Logan. I’d give it all up to be with you”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not your choice. It’s mine so please, take me with you.” He wants to say no. To leave you here. It would break your heart and his but it’s what's best. But a part of him wants to be selfish. He could protect you, he could take care of you. But he fears you’d regret it eventually.

He’s overthinking and you can tell. You grab his jacket and kiss him gently. He groans as he slips his arms around you.

“Please.” You beg softly.

“I can’t promise you the life you’re used to.” He warns but his resolve is slipping.

“I don’t care.” He sighs and kisses you again. It’s becoming addicting. You’re completely addicting.

“Hop on doll,” He throws his leg over the bike and waits.

You waste no time jumping on behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs his motorcycle. You lean into him and smile. He stops so you could say goodbye to Betty and grab a bag of clothes. He waited at the door, a grin on his face as his claws were proudly shown off to your parents.

Then he drives. Away from your horrible family and the horrible town. Your future is uncertain but with Logan, you’re confident things will work out.

He’s all you need.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut

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hsficrecommendation · 1 year ago

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Hello everyone! This is masterlist #7 and #8 (Nov and Dec of 2023!) for all of the fics I have reblogged on this side blog I hold super close to me. Remember to leave feedback and reblog the writings if you read them!

Also, a huge thank you to all the writers mentioned, I adore you so very much and I hope you keep writing <3

••• NOVEMBER •••

Chiffon | Lace | Satin | In which Harry is grumpy and mean to Y/N, who's just shy and trying to get through the day, and they're both teaching assistants for the same class. - @cupid-styles

Love's An Ache In The Jaw | A fic about TA!Harry and TA!Yasmine who hate each other more than anything in the world. - @harryforvogue

Sunkissed | Part 2 | Where (Y/n) is a single mom to an uncoordinated kid, who happens to have surf lessons with a very cute man. - @harryhoney-bee

Knockout | The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises. - @freedomfireflies

Athens | Harry’s in his fourth year teaching university, and he knew he was bound to have a favorite student but he didn’t know he would meet someone like y/n. - @moonchildstyles

••• DECEMBER •••

Halo | Harry doesn’t believe in love and Y/N tries to figure him out. - @parkersroses

Baby, It's Cold Outside | In which Harry is the right person at the wrong time. - @havethetimeofyourstyles

Where The World Takes You ♡ | In which you study in a different country and meet someone along the way. - @havethetimeofyourstyles

Lonely This Christmas ♡ | You and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other. - @enthusiasticharry

Fine Line | Harry plays you Fine Line for the first time and some things get said. - @harrystylescherry

Delicate | Harry has a bad past with relationships and is waiting for when Y/N decides to leave him. - @gucciharrywritings

Love of my Life | Where Harry and Y/n, who is a part of the love band, end up married without the media and the fans finding out. But Harry finally lets the news out by introducing Y/n Mrs. Styles. - @gucciwins

Number One | In which Harry jumps in to help when Y/n is stressing about a little lie she told her family, but is the new lie -- actually a lie? - @watchmegetobsessed

Masterlist for more recs! My Writing account - @0oolookitsme

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 10 months ago

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hi if your requests are still open, what would sharing a meal with logan be? at home or perhaps a diner, together in the xmen mansion ?

hope you are doing okay, your writings with him means a lot to me and you do write so sweetly ❤️ have a good day or night:)

۶ৎ a/n .ᐟ | hii sweets! i'm so very incredibly flattered that you enjoy my writing like that, your message really means a lot to me! i love imaging logan in all these little scenarios that i probably wouldn't have given much thought to, so thank you for that! :]

I really love this question!!

Let’s say you’re eating at home in a metaphorical shared apartment/house, you’d most likely be the one cooking – even though Logan swore up and down he’d help you. He’d probably hang off of you, hands placed gently on your hips as he peers over your shoulder at whatever you’re doing.

He’s a little menace though, always sticking his fingers in the stuff you’re making to the point of you hitting him with whatever you’re cooking with.

You’d tell him to find a seat somewhere like a child and he would, but that doesn’t mean he’s done being irritating, because he’s always commenting on something, whether that be a tease on how sexy you look cooking, or that it smells so good he doesn’t understand why he can’t just have a small bite.

Quietness does grace the kitchen at some point, and you know that when it does he’s admiring you with a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

Eating out a lot is the most common unfortunately, but that just comes with the territory of being an x-man, but you know that wherever he takes you will be good, even if it is a little shotty hole in the wall diner. He’d choose a booth just so he’d have an excuse to sit you down next to him and tug your legs into his lap.

Now finally, I can see dinners at the X-men mansion being a very large affair, Xavier prefering to have all the kids eating together right along with the teachers. Though there isn’t any assigned seating, everyone knows that the spot next to you is reserved for Logan only.

The meal is most likely set up buffet style, so Logan has your plate in his hand loading it up with all of your favorites before he even thinks about eating. He always wants to make sure you eat well, so your portion size is a little ridiculous, but more often than not you just end up sharing your food with him, much to his dismay.

He even practices a little pda, a large hand on your thigh as he watches you eat.

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kissiej · 10 months ago

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Schlatt x Reader Blurbs

Hey everyone! It's my first time writing and im DESPERATELY looking for some inspo! Cant find any except maybe waitress at a diner reader??? lmk if yall have any thoughts <3

~Schlatt most definitely is a heavy sleeper and hates waking up

~I also feel like despite what a lot of people think, he's super affectionate and after a long day he loves to cuddle

~For sure works quite a bit whether it's filming or attending meetings and I feel like at least once a week he'll bring you a gift like flowers or just something he saw when he was out bc he feels bad

~I think his love language would be gift giving or quality time

~He's such a fun guy to be around and is a really good talker, but at the end of a social day he likes to watch TV in silence with you

~If you have long hair he LOVES playing with your hair or brushing it and his favorite thing is trying to do hair styles on you

~He has a pretty easy time falling asleep at night, but if you have insomnia or trouble sleeping he'll try to stay up and help you sleep

~When you're sick, your every wish comes true, if you need anything and I mean ANYTHING, this man will bend over backwards for you

~Even though he can be really affectionate and well spoken, he has a hard time conveying his feelings through words but if you often do he'll feel a bit bad

~If you're in the car he'll almost always let you have the aux, and even though he says he hates your music taste, he secretly loves it (or at least most of it)

Again, please please please let me know if theres any requests and I would love feedback on my writing <3

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt #jschlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt fluff #jschlatt fluff #fanfic #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfic #fluff #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt x y/n

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mrsclrakey · 2 months ago

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hey i love your writing so much!! I was thinking maybe a clarkey fic where the girl is part of chrismd or willnes production team and she meets george over the course of productions and george has a crush on her… eventually asking her out

Tysm for this request I loved writing it I changed my writing style for this one I hope u like itttt

STORY NAME - 📸Lights, Camera, Heartbeat📸

You never imagined that joining the production team for one of YouTube’s hottest channels would change your life. When you first started working behind the scenes for the ChrisMD production crew, you were focused on mastering every detail—from camera angles to perfecting the sound design. You were passionate, determined, and quietly brilliant, though you hadn’t yet noticed the way someone’s eyes would often linger on you during late-night editing sessions.

A New Role, A New Beginning

On your very first day, you found yourself amidst a whirlwind of creative energy. The set was buzzing with activity as the team prepared for another energetic shoot. In the midst of the controlled chaos, you caught a glimpse of George Clarkey—a charismatic presence with an easy smile and a quiet intensity that set him apart. He was one of the key creative minds behind the channel, known not just for his production skills but for his uncanny ability to make everyone feel at ease. Over the following weeks, as you collaborated on numerous projects, those fleeting glances grew into genuine smiles and warm conversations.

Moments Behind the Scenes

During a particularly hectic filming day, while you were busy adjusting the lighting for a challenging shot, George walked up and offered a hand. “Need a hand?” he asked, his tone light yet sincere. You smiled, accepting his help, and in that small act of kindness, something stirred. As the camera rolled and the crew hustled around you, there were moments—quiet, stolen instances—where it seemed as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Over cups of coffee during breaks and late nights spent reviewing footage, your conversations wandered from technical details to shared dreams, favorite films, and even the little quirks that made you both who you were.

George’s interest wasn’t sudden or overwhelming; it was built gradually, like the careful layering of a perfectly edited video. He’d find excuses to discuss creative ideas with you or ask for your opinion on a scene, and each time you spoke, his admiration was unmistakable. It was in the way he listened intently, the way his eyes lit up when you described a new concept, and the subtle compliments that made your heart flutter.

The Unspoken Connection

As more projects rolled in, so did opportunities to spend time together off set. One evening, after a long day of shooting, the team gathered at a local diner to celebrate a successful production. Amid laughter and shared stories, you and George found yourselves lingering at the edge of the conversation. He recounted a mishap during filming that had everyone in stitches, and you laughed, feeling completely at ease in his company. In that moment, the casual banter slowly revealed something deeper—a spark of mutual understanding and attraction that had been quietly building over countless behind-the-scenes moments.

There were days when you doubted whether a personal connection could flourish amid the demands of high-energy production work. But every time George’s gentle humor and sincere interest broke through the professional veneer, you found your resolve strengthening. You began to look forward to his thoughtful texts, the small notes left on your desk, and the way he’d ask if you needed help long after the cameras were turned off.

A Heartfelt Confession

Then came the day when the production schedule finally slowed down—a rare moment of quiet after a whirlwind of projects. The set was nearly empty, and the soft hum of the studio was a welcome contrast to the usual clamor. You were reviewing footage alone when you heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, you saw George, his expression unusually tentative yet earnest.

“I’ve been meaning to say something,” he began, his voice low in the quiet room. He confessed that over the past few months, he’d come to admire not just your talent and creativity, but your kindness and the passion you brought to everything you did. Each shared laugh, every thoughtful discussion about a scene or a storyline, had deepened his admiration until he realized that his feelings had grown beyond professional respect.

Standing there, heart pounding, you listened as he continued, “I know we’re part of a busy world of productions and deadlines, but I can’t ignore what I feel when I’m with you. Would you… would you go out with me, maybe grab dinner, or even just a quiet walk after work?”

In that moment, the room seemed to fill with a hopeful warmth. All the little moments—the shared glances, the after-hours conversations, the unspoken connection—had led to this genuine, heartfelt confession.

New Beginnings On and Off Camera

You found yourself smiling, the kind of smile that reached your eyes and melted away any doubts. Saying yes wasn’t just an acceptance of a date; it was an embrace of a new chapter—one where creativity met emotion, and professional admiration blossomed into something more personal and profound.

As you left the studio together that day, the lights and cameras that had once defined your world now served as the backdrop to the start of something beautiful. The production team continued to create incredible content, but now, behind every shot and every edit, there was the subtle reminder that sometimes the best stories are those that unfold naturally—one shared smile at a time.

In this story, your journey from a dedicated production team member to the recipient of George’s heartfelt confession is woven together by the magic of creative collaboration and genuine connection. Whether you’re behind the lens or in front of it, every moment brings you closer to the realization that sometimes, the best productions are the ones that capture the true essence of the heart.

#george clarke #george clarke fluff #george clarke imagines #george clarkey #george clarke x reader

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jaidens · 2 years ago

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You got that Long Hair, Slicked Back, White T-Shirt - Dallas Winston ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“James Dean day dream look in your eyes,”

pairing [s] : Dallas (Dally) Winston x Soc!Reader

warnings [s] : smoking | making out | beginning action of sex (pulling off pieces of clothes, humping, etc..) |

a/n [s] : my requests are open!!

wc : 1,076

When the famous Greaser; Dallas Winston approached you, you were confused about his actions. Why was he of all people asking you if you had anything planned that Saturday? Of course, people thought he was handsome. Cherry, your best friend, had told you even though she thought he was cute and that if he came back around she'd fall in love with him. So, you gave him a chance.

He had taken you to a small diner around the middle of the ‘territories’. You never believed in the whole hatred between the classes. Your best friend when you were in elementary school had been a Greaser before she moved away from Tulsa.

The first date was nice and sweet. He had worn a cleaned-up white wife-beater and a slick leather jacket. You had worn a small, flower-printed dress and your black wedges. Dallas called you beautiful and set his hand on your lower back. It was protective, showing other people that you were his and to back off.

That's when you knew you had fallen in love with him. When you stared into his eyes as he shared a milkshake with you. When he gave you his leather jacket after the wispy, cold November wind went through the soft, white cardigan you thought would be enough. That was the night he kissed you on the porch of your Daddy’s house. As well as the same night you shared the three words that changed your life, “I love you”.

You had been dating for twelve months and you were celebrating your anniversary at the same diner you had your first date at. You decided to go on a late-night drive in his Thunderbird. You had stopped at a cliff waterfall and watched the sunset. Now, he was smoking a cigarette while you lay on his shoulder with his leather jacket draped over your body. “Hey.. you awake?” His New York accent filled your ears pleasantly. “Yes, Love. Why?” You answered and picked your head up to stare as best as you could with your neck pulled up.

“Wanna hit?” He asked, holding the cigarettes closer to your lips. You shook your head no. You were never fond of smoking ever since your mother developed a horrible cough due to smoking. He smirked and said it was fine you didn't want to. Dallas put his cancer stick out and pulled your face into his. He kissed you desperately and you pushed your head against his.

His tongue touched your lips, tasting the cherry lipstick that you wore that night. It was always his favorite, and it gave him an excuse to “taste your lipstick” to make out with you. “It always tastes so good, you and your cherry lipstick baby..” Dallas groaned out and put his hands in your styled hair.

You jumped up and pulled yourself into his lap. His hands fell to your hips and he started helping you move back and forth. “Baby.. take it slow. You can take me back to your house whenever we do it..” You spoke out, after pulling away from sucking his face to take a breath. You stared into his half-lidded eyes that had lust slowly sucking into them.

His dark eyes followed around your face, admiring your slightly bruised lips and the lipstick that was smeared around your face. “Y’know you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen?” Dally was always a romantic, trying to make you cover your face in embarrassment or start giggling at his compliments. He got a total kick out of making you smile brightly and rub your soft thighs together. “Oh hush, Dal. Acting like you aren't the hottest and absolute hunk of a guy? Can't believe I'm dating you.. a James Dean duplicate.”

Dallas could've sworn that was the best compliment anyone could've given him. He had definitely based his look on the James Dean hit movie, “Rebel Without A Cause”. “With your slick back hair.. the white t-shirt.. could you be less obvious, baby?” You smiled at him and kissed his nose. “My James Dean boy..”

Dallas laughed and threw his head back. “You caught me, didn't you? But, now I gotta ask, who's hotter, me or Dean?” He watched your expression change as you started thinking deeply. “To be honest.. you. I'm not into blonde guys. I love myself a certain brunette boy.” You saw Dally’s eyes light up and he showed off his iconic smirk. “Oh yeah? Who’s that baby?”

You pushed him backward in the seat and started kissing him again. You wiped that tease smirk that he gave you right off his face. It starts going further, and you slowly put your hands under his white shirt running across the firm abs he had been working on. The windows of his car started to become foggy, heating up with you and Dallas’ passion and love. Your limbs tangled up together as he started to kiss down your neck.

His hand travels past your pretty dress, touching your thighs. You pull away gently once more, as another car pulls up next to you. You know this is Dallas’ spot for taking you. It wasn't uncommon to see someone Dallas knew almost every time. You both look over, seeing his old high school friend and the friend's girlfriend. His hand touches your face making you look back over. The soft glow of the midnight moon casts a beautiful look on his face. You’re absolutely obsessed with him. The way he makes your heart rate speed up whenever he touches you, the way he’s touched every part of you and still makes you get excited to see him.

This moment will forever be etched into your souls.

As the intensity of their makeout session peaked, Dallas and you found yourselves breathless, lips lingering in a final, lingering kiss. Your bodies pressed against each other, the warmth and electricity of their connection still pulsating between them.

Dallas gently brushed his fingers along your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. "You're something else, darlin'," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I can't get enough of you.” You're staring into his dark brown eyes with a soft look. “I can’t either, Dally. You’re my forever.” You fall into a last kiss with him as you pull the switch to pull the seats back up. “Let’s get me home before my Daddy kills you. He probably will either way..”

#dallas winston #dally winston #dallas winston x reader #dally x reader #dally winston x reader #the outsiders 1983 #matt dillon x reader #dallas winston the outsiders #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston smut

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bobbimorses · 3 months ago

Note

hi there! as the foremost clint barton expert on this site, i have what i hope is a fun question for you: do you have any favorite underrated/often forgot about friendships between clint and any other heroes? in my writing i'm realizing i kinda default to the same like 3 characters and it would be fun to expand that roster, but also my read through of his comics is very, very slow going lol. thanks for existing, and ofc no pressure to answer if you don't want to! 🫡

would love to know what the 3 characters are in case i end up accidentally picking one--i'm gonna assume cap and tony are out, and anyone more cap-affiliated, as well as long-term relationships, so i'll skip those. here goes:

clint and rhodey had a good thing going in the 90s

disrobing while having home-cooked chili with the bros

so much so that they were called "brothers in arms" (it was the 90s. don't ask.), and clint also happened to regularly appear with rhodey in the 90s iron man cartoon (wearing his ugly 90s costume. don't ask). it started with rhodey, as iron man, being on the first iteration of the west coast avengers when clint opened up shop. he was at the inaugural bbq!

in the wca, bbqs always followed a moment of respect and admiration, or when you gazed longingly at your teammate, or on sundays, or when you cleaned the fridge

after bobbi died, rhodey was one of the only avengers clint "let in" and seemed close to for a bit. they briefly channeled their friendship again when clint was ronin and appeared in an issue of war machine around that time (it was a mini wca reunion), but the friendship's been kind of forgotten in the comics. rip

2. clint and wanda have been good friends since starting out in the avengers together as ~reformed villains~ on cap's kooky quartet. our favorite annoying (ok that was almost entirely on clint's end) 19-21yos grew into their own and have remained close as a result

they've gone shopping together. they have diner dates.

once again, chili is involved.

mind you the friendship got strained when she killed him twice, but he...got over it? whatever. pietro can tag along if he wants

3. clint and pietro. just kidding! they're haters. if pietro killed clint twice he would say yeah that checks out and shoot acid at his shoes. but they love to hate each other. even now, pietro thinks he's winning the hating game by saying his eulogy will be better than clint's

pietro has never tried clint's chili

but clint is actually winning the hating game bc he already had a eulogy, and by eulogy i mean he ensured he had no eulogy and thus it consisted of 0 words.

clint could show up at pietro's funeral and say "lol" and it would meet pietro's standards. it's called playing the long game

4. for historical accuracy i should mention clint and hank pym were always friendly when on the same roster.

now i'm going to be honest with you. i have no idea what the current status is regarding hank. last i remember he was basically dead and ultron had taken over most of his body robocop style? a controversial entry i guess. i doubt you'll find yourself in a situation where you're writing hank pym if you're not in the weeds but there we go. the friendship dynamic was transferred to the emh cartoon iirc

there isn't a panel confirming hank actually tasted clint's chili and that's why he's dead(?) now.

5. hawkeye and two-gun kid. i also doubt you will ever end up writing the two-gun kid; i just want everyone to remember that clint is obsessed with cowboys. he once left the avengers and ran off to a dude ranch with this time-displaced cowboy (clint brought him to the future), and when clint was time-displaced a different time, he immediately sought out this cowboy.

they had chili here

6. clint and jen started out competitive, and by that i mean clint was being a dick and then he broke his leg so he sulked about it. jen threw a taxi at him. deserved. they've always had a sort of will-they-won't-they energy going on; and one time, they did--in an alternate universe (don't ask). jen cured clint of misogyny (this is a joke). thanks, jen.

you'll notice two-gun is also here....

7. karla sofen is not a hero. karla sofen is arguably not a friend. this is like "are they lovers?" "worse." but the other way around?

you probably can't have a situation where clint and karla roll up to have a casual conversation out of nowhere. this doesn't fit your prompt at all. i just wanted to remind everyone that karla and clint had a real thing. an indescribable thing.

karla hates clint's chili. karla will tell clint she hates his chili. but by god is karla eating it

8. i wasn't gonna put clint and jan bc they technically had a relationship as well, but jan loves clint. clint loves jan. consistently best buds!

9. clint and khonshu. i'm just kidding, this is a one-sided crush on khonshu's end

because he lacks a corporeal form, khonshu is unable to taste hawkeye's chili. but he wants to. he wants to.

#clint barton #hawkeye #meta

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adore-laur · 1 year ago

Text

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around."

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around."

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good."

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country."

It's not an exaggeration or a falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero."

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door.

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave."

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us."

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up.

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist.

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive.

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you.

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there.

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?

A gray, tattered sweater and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep.

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own.

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to?

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of them still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth.

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat.

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to, since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to yours now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last?

Snap out of it!

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat.

After finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours.

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry.

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts."

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends.

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but is familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated.

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?"

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak."

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one."

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands, like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring.

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple of times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone.

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again.

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response.

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying.

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me."

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. Harry huffs and sits in his seat.

Everything used to be so easy with him.

——

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door.

"Knock knock."

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked."

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there."

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you."

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too."

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table."

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, come here." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night."

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo calmed your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway.

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you.

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful.

——

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is.

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair.

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers.

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner.

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text—only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches, like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later.

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks.

"Were my hands dirty or something?"

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there?

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously.

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned.

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?"

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked."

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice.

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?"

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school."

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?"

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself."

He asked about you. No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program."

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?"

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink?

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision."

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time."

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet.

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean."

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day."

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to."

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space."

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. I don't know why I even asked."

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading.

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom."

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow."

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please."

It's a soft whisper that echoes in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation.

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete.

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well.

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy.

"What did we do wrong?"

——

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend, who's not even close to him?

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated, funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel.

Your weak spot was him, and you were his.

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?"

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try."

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love.

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly."

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Fine," you repeated.

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run?

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home."

The door slammed shut, and reality sank in.

——

The open sign of the diner flickers below.

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him.

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit."

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on."

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face."

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other."

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me; you know that. The feeling never disappeared, no matter how much I pushed it down."

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel."

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you."

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out.

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after."

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other."

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong.

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?"

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mother, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp."

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach.

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?"

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain?

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again."

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me."

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either."

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?"

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? Are we back to being strangers?"

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you."

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you.

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else."

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without saying a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me."

And so he does it for the last time.

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to—his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely around you, squeezing the sides of your body. He's breathing you in, like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other.

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you—every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him.

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat.

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same."

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "Like shitty teen store perfume?"

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles."

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony.

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway."

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car."

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on.

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better.

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters.

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fucking sucks."

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened."

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point.

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?"

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either?

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you?

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… Good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you."

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean."

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car.

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave.

Don't hurt yourself.

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to make you ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge.

Why?

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away.

You still mean so much to me.

——

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories of Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused Polaroids for dates that stopped happening.

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him.

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you.

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it.

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly?

——

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit.

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped to it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you stole his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you.

January 29th

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love the moment she walks into a room?

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear, I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul.

I hope she sees the same thing.

June 6th

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms.

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other.

I always have time for her.

August 2nd

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology.

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it.

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again.

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later.

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mother's house so he could sleep better at night.

So he can be reminded of home.

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. Home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you.

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go.

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles #adore-laur #home is a feeling

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