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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

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I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #pregnancy #astarion acunin

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formula1bby · 2 years ago

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Dating Pierre Gasly Headcanons

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It’s exactly what it sounds like lol Pure fluff really

pierre gasly x gn!reader

Warnings: none really, just fluff

req?: yes/no

a/n: heyo first time writing for Formula 1 so many apologies if anything is ooc for people. Constructive criticism is okay but flat out hate isn’t, pls be respectful. If you like this pls comment or reblog! And if you have any ideas or anything you want me to write, my requests are open so feel free to hop in and say your piece. (Or if you just want to talk really haha) Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

I feel like he'd definitely keep your relationship private at the start, definitely asked you out in a really private setting, maybe before a race when you two are chilling in his driver room or maybe right after a race when he gets a second alone before heading to media

Regardless, people probably wouldn't even know you were dating until like a month later because your comfort always comes before his need to show you off

When you tell him you're ready to go public tho? Hoo boy this man has everything planned down to the picture to use to announce your relationship on Instagram

Your first time walking into the paddock as a couple was intense. The reporters couldn't get enough of you guys! Before practice that day there were already countless articles and pictures of you two posted everywhere and fans were absolutely adoring the way Pierre looked at you as if you hung the moon in the sky

I feel like some of the drivers would have already known you two were a couple (Charles definitely did because he pestered Pierre to tell him after catching his friend checking his phone every two seconds waiting for a message from you), but for those that didn't know, it wasn't really a surprise to them because of how close you and Pierre had been before. You two were literally the last to know about your feelings for each other

After a good race, Pierre wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the day and night with you, his perfect partner he couldn't imagine how he got so lucky with

This could be you guys going out to a club together or ordering takeaway (with the promise to not tell his trainer he was breaking his diet) and staying in the hotel room all night doing whatever struck your fancy (more often than not this would be some *ahem* physical activity)

Pierre always doted on you after a good race, insisting you were his good luck charm that weekend, even when you tried to tell him you should be the one doting on him

He would smother you in kisses after a race, regardless of if he was absolutely soaked in champagne from a podium

After a bad race, he would situate himself in your arms and lay on top of you when you get back to the hotel

You guys definitely wouldn't be going out in order to give him the time to gather himself and recharge before even attempting to be in any sort of public setting before the next race

I also feel like he wouldn't really talk too much after a bad race, instead just wanting to soak in your presence. You would probably be muttering sweet nothings and reassurances to him though while holding him in your arms, the TV playing some crappy show in the background

Overall though, I feel like Pierre would be a very touchy boyfriend who just wants to show his partner off to anyone and everyone who will pay attention but he definitely cherishes the quiet, private moments between you guys

10/10 would recommend dating Pierre

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There it is! I'll probably do a part 2 at some point, so if any of you guys have any ideas for that, feel free to drop into my asks and leave suggestions! Also, requests are open! So if you have any scenario or headcanons or one-shot idea you want, feel free to send that in as well :)

Cazza out (^▽^)

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #f1 #pg10 #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly headcanons #formula1bby #cazza writes #formula 1 headcanons #f1 headcanon #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

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Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings: protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him.

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention.

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again.

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.”

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?”

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up.

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though).

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me.

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!”

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.”

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him.

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement.

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin.

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin.

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared.

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them.

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace.

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened?

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older.

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just—

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours.

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too.

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter.

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin.

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—”

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t.

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.”

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin.

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight.

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his.

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out.

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.”

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear.

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.”

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more.

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps.

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.”

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer.

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously.

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.”

***

2K notes · View notes

weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

technicolor (f.w.)

prompt request by anon: it is said that when you meet your soulmate, you will know because the world that you knew in black and white would turn technicolor. during a harmless game of spin the bottle, you didn’t expect your soulmate to be revealed to you.

warnings: drinking, mentions of eating, mild language

pairing: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader

word count: 5.3k

The power of true love was life altering in your world. Literally. The world was painted in shades of blacks, whites, and grays. It always was for those who hadn’t met their true love, their soulmate, their one and only. It was said on the occasion that you had kissed your soulmate, the world before you would erupt into vibrant color. People spent their whole lives, searching for the person who brought color to them.

Living in a dull, colorless world was mundane to say the least, but it was all you knew. The idea of living in a world of color was an exciting thought to say the least, but in a way it scared you. Suddenly the world as you knew it changing abruptly before your eyes because you had met someone that destiny created for you? It was a scary thought. But in your head, you had nothing to worry about. You didn’t plan on meeting your soulmate any time soon.

Or so you thought.

Laying upside down on the common room couch, you flipped through the pages of a Quibbler, not really paying attention to the words on the page. You looked on either side of you, Katie painting her nails on your left and Alicia on the right making light chatter with Angelina. Needless to say, the four of you were bored out of your skull. It was a quiet Friday night, nothing happening in the common room. No parties, no quidditch match, no nothing.

With a groan, you pull yourself up from your inverted position and speak, “So are we all just going to sit around here like a bunch of bums and wait for something exciting to happen?”

Katie sighs, “That’s even if something exciting happens.” She blows on her nails, shaking her hands back and forth to expedite the drying process. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

The two of you look to Alicia and Angelina who just shrug as you throw your head back in annoyance. “Well, someone think of something because I refuse to let a perfectly good Friday night go to waste,” you flop the Quibbler on the table in front of you and hold your arms across your chest. “What can we do to entertain ourselves?”

Alicia stands up and starts pacing, trying to think of something. “We could...sneak some food out from the kitchens? Convince a house elf to sneak us some sweets from dinner two nights ago. Those biscuits were so good,” she thinks out loud.

Katie groans, “The thought of food makes me sick. I ate so much at dinner tonight after Ron challenged me to see how many dinner rolls I could fit into my mouth.”

The thought of Katie with bread rolls in her mouth makes the group chuckle. “Okay, so food is out of the picture,” Alicia speaks with a soft smile. “What about a movie? I can see if Hermione would let me borrow her projector and we could watch one of those movies I have tucked away in my trunk,” she suggests, surveying the group’s reaction.

Angelina makes a sour face. “We had a movie marathon last week, I’d like to do something different,” she tells Alicia who rolls her eyes.

Alicia huffs, plopping herself back onto the couch. “Well, then I’m out of ideas, so you come up with something, Johnson.”

The group sits in a bored silence for a few moments before Angie breaks the silence. “Should I go bother Fred and George? Surely they’ll find something to do. They always make things interesting,” she speaks, raising her brows, gaging her audience’s reaction.

Katie rolls her eyes, “Merlin, Angie, if you want an excuse to see your darling Georgie, you can just say so.” You laugh at her comment and give Katie a teasing high five as Alicia giggles along. Angelina rolls her eyes and leans back on the couch. Angelina and George had been dating ever since sixth year when they kissed after their first date and they had seen the world in color, confirming their soulmate status. Katie mockingly starts teasing Angie now, “Meh, meh, I’m Angie, I love George, I see the world in color. Meh, meh, my sweater is green and not black like you guys see it, blah, blah,” making you cackle, throwing your head back in laughter, clutching your stomach.

You lean into Katie as you laugh, making her laugh harder as Angelina stands up, “Oh, piss off you two! I can’t help it that he’s my soulmate and I found him so early!”

“We’re just teasing you, Angie,” you wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes. “Go on, go fetch the twins. I’m sure they’ll think of something to do. Tell ‘em to bring Jordan with them if he’s around. Lee is always a good time.” Alicia nods in agreement.

With a small smile, Angelina darts off up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Alicia shakes her head, “That girl is whipped for the Weasley. I can’t believe she found her soulmate already. We’re not even eighteen yet.”

It was true. It wasn’t unheard of people finding their soulmates at a young age, but it surely wasn’t common. Most people were friends or knew their soulmates for a while before they were aware that they were in fact soulmates. For example, your parents both went to Hogwarts and we friends for years. It wasn’t until after four years after graduation that they realized they were soulmates. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your parents. You wished that you could have a soulmate story like theirs.

Katie folds her arms across her chest, “Quite frankly I hope I don’t meet my soulmate anytime soon. I feel like after you meet your soulmate, you’re expected to drop everything and be with them. But you have your whole lives ahead of you to spend time with each other. I’d rather be single and have fun and live my life in black and white for a while before seeing color with a soulmate.”

In a way you did agree with Katie. Most people who met their soulmate at a young age tended to drop everything in order to be there for their soulmate. Coordinating their lives and schedules to their soulmates, moving cities for them, planning their days around the other. It just seemed so intense. You were seventeen, you couldn’t drop everything right now for another person.

Moments later, Angelina happily came down the stairs with a large smile on her face as George, Fred, and Lee all trailed behind her. “The entertainment has arrived, ladies,” George speaks with a big beaming smile on his face as you teasingly rolled your eyes.

You sit up and speak, “What entertainment did you bring, Georgie?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended at your comment. “Are we not enough for you, (Y/N)? Is our presence not enough?” George mockingly stumbles back. “Freddie, I feel faint! Catch me!”

Dramatically, Fred scoops up his twin brother as George pretends to faint. “Merlin’s beard, (Y/N), look at what you’ve done!” he mockingly screeches as you roll your eyes and giggle. Katie huffs a here we go as she leans back into the couch. The twins always put on a show when they were around you guys. You never minded it; they were quite funny when they wanted to be. “Quick, Lee, we need to revive him!”

Lee, now in on the joke, runs over to the coffee table and clear it quickly. “Bring him here!” he exclaims as Fred lays a fake limp George on the table as you laugh and Alicia scoffs.

“Good Godric, you three are a bunch of idiots,” she huffs with a smile on her face. No matter how much she hated to admit it, this was much better than sitting around and doing nothing.

Fred speaks, “Alright, Lee, give me the reviving potion,” sticking out his hand.

Even more dramatic than before, Lee pulls out a large bottle of fire whiskey from his satchel as he improvises an operatic song as he places it in Fred’s hands. Lee opens George mouth as Fred uncorks the bottle and pours a glug into George’s mouth. George swallows it and dramatically inhales. “I’ve been revived!” he exclaims as the boys cheer.

Katie perks up at the sight of fire whiskey. “Where in the hell did you get a bottle of that?” she sits up and grabs the bottle from Fred’s hands. Lee pulls out a few cups from his satchel and places them on the table, Katie immediately pouring everyone a glass of fire whiskey.

Fred smiles, “It’s our emergency bottle. In case situations like this happen.”

Folding her arms across her chest, Alicia speaks up, “And exactly how many emergency bottles do you boys have?”

The trio looks at each other before sighing and speaking as a chorus, “Four.”

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought,” she laughs before taking a cup of fire whiskey from Katie, Katie then handing you one. “Well, it’s better than nothing I guess.”

You look at the whiskey in your cup before sighing and taking a sip, the liquid burning your throat, but warming your chest up in all the right ways. A familiar sensation. You hum in contentment. “Better than nothing is damn right,” you smile as the twins chuckle. “What were you lot doing upstairs?”

Lee takes a seat in the chair across from the couch, “Same thing as you gals. Bored out of our skulls. However, these two numbskulls were trying to conjure up a plan to go pull a prank on Filch.” George snickers as Lee flicks the back of his head, earning a small ow. “Good thing you all were bored too otherwise I would have been dragged into that mess.”

Fred scoffs, “Oh please, you wish you could pull off a prank at the caliber that Georgie and I do. Isn’t that right, brother?” He turns to George who is already cuddled up next to Angelina on the love seat, arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close next to him. Fred rolls his eyes and makes a gagging sound. “You two make me sick.”

George just pulls Angie closer to his side as Angie blushes a deep crimson. “You’re just jealous, Freddie. I’ve got a hot girlfriend and I can see the world in color, making it quite obvious that you, dear brother, are green with envy.” Angie rolls her eyes, but still places a soft kiss to George’s cheek.

Fred shakes his head, “He’s gone soft, Lee. We’ve lost one of our bravest soldiers.”

“Piss off,” Angie speaks up, defending her boyfriend as Freddie chuckles, lips turning into a gorgeous smile. “Now that we’ve all got our drinks, let’s really get the party started...” she wiggles her eyebrows. “Katie Bell, truth or dare.”

Katie groans and sips her fire whiskey before deciding what she wants to do. As she ponders, you see Fred scoot over to you as you giggle, him dragging his bum on the floor, making his way to you. Fred smiles up at you, “This seat taken?” he refers to the spot on the floor right in front of your legs.

You shake your head with a smile, “It’s got your name written all over it, Weasley.”

Fred gives you a cheeky grin, “Brilliant.”

He turns around and leans his back up against your legs and rests one of his arms on your knees. You and Fred were close friends. In fifth year when Angelina confessed to you that she had a crush on George, you started spending more time with the twins and developed a close relationship with them and Lee. You, in particular, got along with Fred like a house on fire. The two of you loved to crack jokes on the sidelines, teasing George and Angie, giggling and stealing little glances here and there.

Angelina always told you that you and Fred would make a cute couple. She insisted she saw the way that Fred looked at you, but you always brushed it off as if it were nothing. You and Fred were friends, nothing more, nothing less. A partnership would just totally ruin the vibe between the two of you. There was no point to it. Even though you may have always admired Fred’s looks from a far and his charming personality, you had finally convinced yourself that you and Fred Weasley were platonic.

As Fred leaned up against your legs, sipping on his whiskey, your eyes found Angie’s as she lifted her brows, looking at you knowingly, sending you a look that said Oh? You rolled your eyes and shook your head, responding with your eyes, No way. She just shrugged and sipped her fire whiskey nonchalantly as if to say Whatever you say...You just brushed it off and leaned back as Katie challenged Lee to a dare.

----------

The night progressed and the drinking continued and the bottle got less and less full. Soon enough, the common room was full of your tipsy giggles as the lot of you cracked jokes with each other. You hugged your sides as you cackled as Fred did a spot on impression of Draco Malfoy as he mimicked him walking through the halls, yelling “Potter!” every now and then. Of course, the humor was amplified by the liquor in your hands, but it still was hilarious. The whole group was in a fit of giggles as Lee quite literally fell to the floor from laughter too hard.

Alicia laid her head in your lap as she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes as you all recovered from laughter. “Fred, that was brilliant. You’ll have to show Harry tomorrow morning,” she tells him as Fred plops down next to you on the couch, stealing Katie’s spot as she was now sat on the floor next to Lee.

Fred chuckles and rests his arm around the back of the couch, gently hovering behind you as you suddenly become very aware of his presence. You spot Angelina out of your periphery vision as she smirks to herself before leaning over and whispering something in George’s ear, making George look at you with a devilish smirk on his lips. Your gaze towards them hardens as you mouth, Knock it off. George just smiles and sips his drink quietly, pretending to mind his own business.

You turn to Fred and give him a soft smile as he drops his left eye in a wink, making your heart skip a beat. “Easy, Weasley,” you say in a cautious tone as he lifts his arms in defense. You shake your head and lean back into the couch, bumping into his arm that is draped across the back of the couch. Neither of you bother moving.

Alicia rises from your lap and reaches for the fire whiskey bottle, but groans in defeat when she realizes it’s empty. “Bloody hell,” she groans. She looks to Lee and begs, “Is it appropriate to call this an emergency and you can grab another one of your emergency fire whiskeys?”

Lee laughs, “I regret to inform you we have a one emergency bottle a night policy.” Alicia groans and flops back onto the couch. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in Lee’s mind, making his eyes grow wide and a little smile dance on his lips. “However,” he wiggles his brows and surveys the group. “Now that we’ve got an empty bottle, I think we all know where we can take this party...”

Looking up from her cup, Katie says, “Where are we taking the party? Are we going to bed?” she asks with sadness in her voice. “But the night is so young!”

Shaking his head, Lee looks at Katie. “Are you daft, Bell?” he asks as she rolls her eyes, sipping her whiskey. “I meant we could play a cheeky game of spin the bottle,” Lee suggests.

Alicia huffs, “Really, Jordan? What are we? Fourth years?”

“Oh, come on, Spinnet, it’s just to add a little spice to the mix,” Lee shimmies his shoulders making you laugh. “Besides, it gives you an excuse to have the privilege of planting a sloppy one on me.”

Alicia fake gags. “I’d rather spend a whole day with Professor Snape,” she spits as Lee laughs.

George speaks up now, “Angie and I will sit this one out, but we will watch the show.” He pulls Angie impossibly closer to him as she cuddles into his chest. “For obvious reasons,” he smirks. Fred boos his brother and throws his now empty cup of fire whiskey at him. “What? I am not kissing someone other than my literal soulmate,” he rationalizes. “Besides, you’ve got five players. That’s enough. That is, if everyone is comfortable playing.”

The group all looks at each other, gaging everyone’s feelings of playing a cheeky game. You had to admit you’d rather not play a game as childish as spin the bottle, but for a weird reason, you were keen on playing at least one round. As you looked around, it seemed like everyone was on board to play.

Your eyes meet Fred’s for a moment as he looks at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips for a split second, hoping you wouldn’t catch him. You quickly turn away, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks. “I don’t see the harm in one game,” you shrug as you see Fred smile from the corner of your eye. Lee claps his hands cheering as Alicia and Katie agree.

Fred speaks up, “Well, I can’t let Lee be the only bloke having all the fun, now can I?”

Everyone is on board with the game as Lee cheers, “Alright! Five for five!” He places the empty bottle of fire whiskey on its side in order to spin it. “Everyone knows the rules. You spin and kiss whomever it lands on, no matter who it is. I’m looking at you, Weasley. If you land on me, I expect the best snog of my life,” he teases as you all laugh wildly. “Whomever the bottle lands on gets the next spin. All good?” Everyone nods. Lee smiles, “Groovy. Welp, youngest goes first. Bell, you’re up.”

Katie giggles, “Put on your chapstick, you lucky sons of bitches.” Alicia laughs as Katie reaches and spins the bottle. The bottle does a series of spins, turning clockwise as she anticipates who she’ll be planting a kiss on. She nervously dances back and forth as you watch her with a small smile on your face.

Slowly the bottle stops spinning to land gently on Fred. Your heart stops for a second and your mouth runs dry. You blink a few times and swallow hard. The group all claps their hands and laughs as Katie rolls her eyes. You on the other couldn’t help but have a tight feeling in your chest. You force a smile on your face before you look at Angelina quickly. She raises her brows, monitoring your reaction as you just shake your head, letting her know you were fine.

Katie scoots over to Fred as Fred leans down. “Get ready for your mind to be blown,” Fred jokes as Katie slaps his arm.

You watch very intently as Fred ducks his head down to connect his lips with Katie. You stop breathing for a moment as you watch Fred kiss one of your closest friends. Your palms start sweating and you pull yourself away from looking at them kiss. Lee and Alicia oooh and giggle as you look at Angie, eyes screaming at her, Okay maybe I’m not fine.

She gives you a nervous smile and mouths, “It’s just a silly game.”

You nod your head and shake it off. It was a silly game. That’s all. A stupid, silly, childish game. It meant nothing. You knew Katie didn’t like Fred like that. She had fancied Adrian Pucey for a few months now. This kiss meant literally nothing.

It felt like the kiss had lasted for hours when it was a brief five seconds. Katie pulls away from the kiss and returns to her position on the floor. Fred just smirks and leans back in his seat, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. You watch as he does so, the small gesture being surprisingly attractive to you as you gulp. But you quickly turn around so Fred doesn’t catch you watching.

Katie laughs, “Eh, you’re nothing to ride home about, Freddie. Hate to break it to you.”

Fred shrugs, “It’s alright, Bell. The first stage of grieving is denial. You’ll eventually accept that that kiss was the best one of your life.”

Lee cackles as Fred joins him in his laugher before leaning over and spinning the bottle for himself. The bottle spins round and round and round as you watch it, the bottle hypnotizing you. You secretly wished that the bottle would land on you, wanting to be able to kiss Fred Weasley and getting the confirmation that you didn’t like Fred in that way. But honestly, you just hoped it was anyone but Katie or Alicia.

The bottle slowly stopped spinning as it gently landed on Lee, making the group erupt in laughter. Lee’s lips drew up in a devilish smile as he rubbed his hands together, “Here I come, big boy!” he exclaims, making you laugh even harder.

Fred laughs and sits up in his seat. “Give it to me, Jordan,” he challenges.

Lee springs to his feet and grabs Fred’s face with both hands, squeezing his cheeks together before smashing his lips on Fred’s. Fred is laughing as Lee kisses him roughly, rocking him back and forth. George is absolutely dying of laughter, falling into his chair as the rest of the group squeals.

Alicia grabs onto your arms, squeezing you as she laughs, you doing the same. The kiss happens for a while as you cackle, “Good Godric, come up for some air why don’t you?”

With a smack, Lee pulls off of Fred as Fred falls back in his seat. Fred’s eyes are wide as Lee wipes his lips. “And that,” Lee points to Fred, “is how you kiss someone. Not that pathetic thing you gave Katie.”

The group comes down from laughing at Lee spins the bottle for himself. The cycle repeats for a while. Lee kisses Alicia, Alicia kisses you, you kiss Katie, Katie kisses Lee, and then the bottle spins again. Lee spins and the bottle gently lands on you as you giggle. “I’m expecting excellence, Lee Jordan,” you eye him as he laughs. “Not going to lie, Alicia might give you a run for your money.”

Lee rolls his eyes, “In her dreams.”

You giggle before the two of you close the gap between you two, kissing each other. The kiss is honestly not bad. Lee’s lips tasted of the fire whiskey along with vanilla and sugar. The kiss was gentle, but not bad at all. Your friends around you all cheer and oooh at you two in typical fashion as you both smile into the kiss. You pull away and Lee sends you a wink. “The reviews are in,” you speak. “Not bad, Jordan. Not bad at all. Actually, pretty damned good!”

Lee pumps his arm. “Hah! Take that, Spinnet!”

“Alright, my turn to spin,” you giggle and excitedly spin the bottle.

The bottle spins and spins and spins as everyone waits in anxious anticipation. Who could it be? Slowly, the bottle stops spinning and lands on the person right next to you, Mr. Fred Weasley.

Your heart stops as your mouth goes dry. Everyone immediately erupts into cheers, specifically George who springs onto his feet. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one!” he cheers as you gulp.

Kissing Fred Weasley? Maybe this game was a mistake.

You stare at the bottle, and then to Angie who wears the biggest grin on her face, and then back at the bottle and finally to Fred. His eyes stare back at you as you gulp. A smirk dances on Fred’s lips as you suck in a breath. The whole group stares at the pair of you, silent, waiting for something to happen.

The tension between you and Fred was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Cat got your tongue, (Y/L/N)?” Fred teases you as he scoots a little closer to you. You suck in a shaky breath as he chuckles lowly.

You snap yourself out of this anxious gaze and speak, confidence now coursing through your veins. You were going to kiss your best friend and it was happening now. “Make your move, Weasley,” you challenge with flirtation laced in your voice.

Fred smiles, “No need to tell me twice,” he lowly whispers.

Immediately, Fred cups your cheek and brings your lips to his. Your lips connect and the whole group loudly cheers and screams. You hear Lee scream, “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”

But you couldn’t care what was happening. You were kissing Fred. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Fred’s lips were soft, but demanding as they pressed firmly onto yours. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon and spice; his lips were like a personal drug that you couldn’t get enough of. You pressed your lips harder against his as you both sucked in a breath, your hand resting on his forearm. His lips moved gently against yours as you both enjoyed this kiss too much for a friendly game of spin the bottle.

You opened up your mouth enough for Fred to slide his tongue in, massaging his with yours as you moan just loudly enough for Fred to hear, making him smile into your kiss. As the group watched you two softly snog, they only cheer louder. You were too involved in relishing in the way Fred’s lips felt pressed against yours to care about how your friends were reacting.

The kiss was everything you wanted a first kiss with someone to be. It was gentle, but didn’t lack in passionate or desire. His lips moved in sync with yours as you followed his lead, his tongue dancing with yours. It was exactly how you imagined kissing Fred Weasley.

You are pulled from your thoughts when George cries out, “For Merlin’s sake Freddie, don’t eat the poor girl!”

Gently, you break the kiss as Fred’s lips follow yours for a moment, not wanting the kiss to end just yet. The two of you keep your eyes closed, relishing in the moment that you two shared.

Lee laughs, “Is it just me or is it hot in here?”

You giggle and gently pry your eyes open. But that’s when you gasp.

You look at Fred who sits in front of you in full color. His bright red hair contrasting against the light blue thermal shirt he wears. His brown eyes stare at you just as much in shock.

It happened.

“Merlin’s beard...” you whisper.

The room fall silent as your friends stare at the two of you in confusion, wondering what could have possibly happened that made the two of you stare at each other in shock.

“Is it...” you start.

“Yeah,” Fred answers. He lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, it is.”

You let out a light laugh with him and slowly, look around the room taking in your surroundings, the whole common room in beautiful colors of maroon and gold. Color dances everywhere as you let out an amazed chuckle.

Looking at Angie with amazement, she suddenly realizes exactly what’s going on. A smile erupts on her face as she lets out a sigh. “Good Godric,” she breathes. She looks at George. “It happened.”

The entire group registers what is happening as they stare at the two of you in awe as you two take in your surroundings gentle. “Oh shit,” Lee breathes out with a smile. “That’s bloody brilliant...”

You look back at Fred who just wears a gentle smile on his face as you look deeply into his chocolate brown eyes that swim with amazement and adoration. You could look into those eyes forever. And lucky for you, that’s what you were going to do.

Breaking the silence, Angelina says, “We’ll leave you two to it then. Guys...”

Your friends all start to leave the common room, running up the stairs to the dormitories, definitely to chat about what just happened.

You are now left with Fred in the common room, sitting on the couch together, staring at each other in technicolor. “Hi, Freddie,” you breathe out with a smile.

Fred smiles, “Hi, (Y/N),” he reciprocates. The two of you just take the other one in for a few moments as you gulp. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do? Merlin’s sake, this was supposed to be a cheeky game of spin the bottle and all of a sudden. “We’re soulmates,” Fred speaks plainly.

“I guess so,” you laugh. You gently bite your lip. “I never thought it would be you, Fred.”

He inhales a long breath. “I had a feeling,” Fred admits as you teasingly smack his arm. “I’m glad I was right,” he confesses as you blush. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. With and without color,” he tells you. “I didn’t think that you could get more gorgeous, but color has proved me wrong.”

You shake your head, “Freddie...” you trail off, blushing wildly, crimson appearing on your cheeks for the first time. Fred takes your hand in his and gently rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You give into his touch, nothing feeling more right. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Fred lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “We’re soulmates,” he repeats himself as you nod. “Wow...so, we get to spend forever with each other, huh? You’re going to get really tired of me, aren’t you?” he jokes as you laugh.

“I could never grow tired of you,” you confess, squeezing his hand. You run your hand through his red hair. The signature of the Weasleys that you could finally see now. “I do have to say though,” you start. “I was not expecting your hair to be this red.”

Fred laughs, “Get used to it, darling. You’ll be staring at it for the rest of your life. Not to mention, the Weasley genetics are strong. Sorry to say that if we decide to have kids, they’ll end up like this.”

You roll your eyes, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Freddie.” He smiles and sends you a wink. “So,” you breathe out. “What do we do now?”

He inhales deeply and sighs. “Well,” he starts. “I think we ought to tell people, specifically our parents,” he says as you nod. “But other than that, we do what we want.” You gaze into Fred’s eyes and smile. “(Y/N), we have the rest of our lives together. There’s no rush. We can go at our own pace. We don’t have to pay attention to what people say we should be doing. I’m just happy that we’ve found each other that way we can start forever now.”

Your heart fills with joy and adoration at his words. You had always worried that you wouldn’t love soulmate, nevertheless like them, but loving Fred Weasley was going to be the easiest task of your life. Living your forever in color together.

“Sounds good to me, Weasley,” you smile.

Fred leans in and closes the gap between you two, kissing you again sweetly like he had done minutes ago for the first time. His lips are even gentler than before on yours as you smile into the kiss. Fred pull away and smiles, “Reckon we go upstairs and get the teasing out of the way from the lot?”

You take a moment. “Let’s wait a little while. We have forever for them to tease us. We’ll only have this moment for a short time.”

He shakes his head. “Merlin, you’re perfect.”

And there the two of you laid in each other’s arms, taking in the new colorful world before you, souls now connected forever. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred wealsley x gryffindor! reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut

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vannybarber · 4 years ago

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The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

taglist:

@flattykawa1 @mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @fantasticinternetpizza @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @nicochantez @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @ppal3 @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessyballet @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @greatbatprofessordragon

i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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haik-choo · 4 years ago

Text

waking up next to the karasuno second & third years

request: the waking up next to the first years hcs was the purest most adorable thing i’ve ever read 🥺🥺🥺could u do one with the second or third years too?

a/n: thank you so much for loving the first one i did! i’m sorry i haven’t been as active, i go in and out of a creative mindset and this quarantine isn’t really pushing me to stay creative. i just sleep most of the time LOL. here it is! :)

[WAKING UP NEXT TO THE KARASUNO SECOND AND THIRD YEARS]

-nishinoya, tanaka, daichi, sugawara, asahi

nishinoya yuu.

waking up next to nishinoya yuu isn’t filled with excitement or him jumping off the walls, like you might expect it to be. i feel like the first ten minutesof waking up for him are really slow, like he’s just barely opening his eyes and looking at the ceiling.

for some reason i really feel like he wakes up before you. he goes to bed at like two am, but wakes up at eight am to practice or go on a little jog.

but every time he wakes up, the first thing he looks at is you. your peaceful state, your slow-rising chest, the little breaths leaving your slightly parted lips. noya is a really emotional person, and I can bet you real money that he gets real giddy seeing you next to him.

you don’t usually sleep in his arms because he’s a wild sleeper and probably starfishes, so when he wakes up his limbs are sprawled out, some on you, some hanging off the bed. and he just barely turns his head at there you are in your morning glory.

his heart literally swells five sizes bigger. he’ll shift over to be next to you and move your hair out of your face or just mess with the hair at the top of your head, basking in the love you cause him to feel.

after a few minutes of doing that, he’ll let out a big ol’ sigh and wrap his arms around you, squeezing tight to wake you up.

“mmm,,,,noya, what are you doing,,,” “i’m just feeling grateful :)”

and you look up at him, and there’s a feeling of security that fills you. he may not be the biggest or strongest, but the light in his eyes and the warmth in his arms that he wraps around you make you feel safe.

not to mention that his hair is down and sticking out everywhere. it’s a cute picture that only you’ll ever see

you return his gesture and wrap your arms around him, thinking about different ways to make him stay in bed instead of going out for a jog.

basically; the morning is filled with hugs and soft smiles, knowing looks and arms that evoke the feeling of being safe and being loved. his hair is wild, and his hands are tugging at your own strands.

tanaka ryuunosuke.

you two almost always wake up in the same position, his arms spread out, your head resting on one of them, one of his legs propped up like a tent and the other flat on the bed, you curled up against his side. since he’s a touch-starved individual, he finds any excuse for you two to be as close as possible every second of every day.

you both actually wake up a few minutes apart, whoever wakes up first is a coin toss. and when you wake up first, you get to see his face void of the tension is usually has, his mouth is a little open with small snores coming out, his fingers twitching every few seconds

tanaka’s body reacts before he does, so even if you try to get up, his arms just holds onto you and keep you attached to his side. he swears he doesn’t do it on purpose, and that his body just needs you :’)

on days when he wakes up before you he stays as still as stone. no joke, he’s so afraid of waking you up and experiencing your wrath that he just. freezes

but as he’s frozen, he takes the time to just stare. no smile on his face, he just stares, drinking in your sleeping form. he occasionally takes a change and slowly turns, stretching out his arm for his phone on the side table. when he can reach it, you can bet he has 200+ new photos of your sleeping and he makes them his screen savers

the second he sees your stir awake lightly, he pounces on you an covers your face in little kithes and saves your lips for last. sometimes he’ll wait until you open your eyes and look at him, pouting like “where’s my real kisses :(” before he gives you a big boy smooch

you giggle and caress his chest with your hand, happy that he wakes you up like a queen everyday. trust me, he’s happy he gets to be the guy whose face you see first thing in the morning

he usually scrolls through his phone for like an hour before getting out of bed, and you just sit there and watch tik toks with him. you two my wake up at roughly the same time, but you get out of bed before him to make some morning smoothies (he totally asks for a protein shake AGAGA)

basically; your mornings get started at the same time, and he loves to make sure you’re up by pelting you with kisses that you love. you scroll through tik tok while being smushed next to his chest before you get up to make breakfast.

daichi sawamura.

not gonna lie, when he wakes up he spend like a minute or two in bed at MOST, he hates just staying in bed because he feels like he could so much more productive than lie around and do nothing. you, on the other hand, wouldn’t mind staying in bed for the entire day.

so here’s the way it usually goes: he wakes up a minute before his alarm (7:00am) and just quickly sighs before reaching over you and turning it off so it doesn’t wake you up. then he kisses your forehead (his breath smells bad, so he’s not going to kiss your lips) before getting up and washing up. he gets ready to go on a jog, and he kisses your shoulder before he sets out on his journey.

but every once in a while, there’s something wonderful that happens. he doesn’t feel like working out. he wakes up at the same time, but he just doesn’t feel like doing anything. on those days, he completely indulges in your warmth.

he doesn’t care if he wakes you up and hoists you up so you’re completely laying on his body. of course you wake up, but you already know what’s going to happen, so you just softly groan. “so you don’t feel like getting up and decide to wake me up? really?” “yes, really” “...you’re lucky i love you” “im the luckiest man alive”

you two actually talk during mornings like those, you love pressing an ear against his chest and hearing the vibrations his voice causes. it’s like calming background noise to you.

“are,,,you even listening. we’ve got a lot to do today” “i’ve been ignoring everything after you said ‘getting up’“ “...of course you have”

you haveto convince him to stay even longer in bed, because he really hates staying in bed, like he just wants to make “eggs or fucking toast or an OMLETTE PLEASE I JUST WANT TO DO SOMETHING”

in order to persuade him to stay for a little longer, you usually just kiss him. normally he hates morning breath, but when it’s you kissing him so tenderly he can make an exception or two

ngl it usually leads to making out or morning sex, like i said he needs to do SOMETHING

basically; you wake up like a married couple. normally he gets up right away, but every once in a while he;ll decide to spend some extra time with the love of his life, and that time is usually spent kissing and...doing other things ;)

sugawara koushi.

instead of you waking up in his arms, he wakes up in your arms. like his face is pressed against your chest and your arms is haphazardly resting over his shoulder. his arms are undoubtedly around your waist, his lags entangled with yours

every morning, without fail, he wakes up first and somehow slip out of your position and into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth before making two cups of coffee and coming back into the bedroom, setting them on the nightstand, and crawling back into bed with you

usually he sits up in bed and moves you to rest your head in his lap so he can reach over to sip at his drink. his hands comb through your hair and he trifles through his emails just incase some parent messages him about something

sometimes he’ll stop scrolling at look down at you, feeling happy and 100% sure that he has the greatest life; first he wakes up in your arms, spends time with you, spends time with kids, and them spends more time with you

the school he teaches at starts at like twelve pm, so he likes to take his time waking up so he’s as happy as possible. and spending a lot of time with you is key to that.

can only wait for so long before he pokes your side until you wake up. the entire time he’s like “please wake up” “i’ve got work in like four hours! let’s do something!” “i’ll make breakfast if you give me sufficient payment ;)”

literally the second you wake up he props you up and you look drunk as hell when you first wake up but he still thinks you’re beautiful <3 cute rat

he rests your head on his shoulder and kisses you until you’re fully awake, you don’t always kiss back but that’s because you’re not fully there and you’re just,,, “is there a bird pecking at me? what the hell - oh, it’s koushi”

“can’t you wake me up like a normal person?” “no, i like kissing you awake. isn’t that cute? :)” “not when you kiss like a bird.” “so you have,,,,chosen death?”

when he’s feeling extra happy he has no issue putting you on his lap, facing him. he wraps your arms around him before doing the same to you and burying his face in your neck and humming a soft tune. he’s just such a calming presence that sometimes you fall back asleep in his lap :’)

basically; it’s a cute and happy morning as he rests you on his lap and peppers your lips with kisses to wake you up. playful banter is included, and so it coffee breath.

asahi azumane.

he would love to wake up to you pressed to his side, but he gets hot really easily, so he cant hold you to sleep. he totally hugs a small pillow to sleep and you can old press up against his back, which he doesn’t mind.

he’s the type to wake up at ten am naturally, and every morning he yawns and stretches out his arms, rolling back a little before yelping at the feeling of you getting quietly crushed beneath him

when he realizes that it’s just you, his heart beat stabilizes and he turns over, flipping the sheets off of him to he doesn’t overheat, and grabs you hands, lacing his fingers through with yours

you’ve been dating for a while, so he’s completely comfortable doing skinship with you. he’s not embarrassed at how much he loves you. he likes to gently caress your face with his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones and sometimes across your bottom lip

no lie, waking up with asahi is the softest thing ever. he gives you one single kiss on your cheek, letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling away to see your eyes cracked open

by this time he’s lightly hovering over you, and he just lets out a slightly bashful smiles and leans down, his forehead pressing against yours

you think that you must’ve saved a cat orphanage in your past life in order to get he delicious treat of waking up with asahi’s face in front of yours everyday

“good morning to you, too, azumane” “morning :)” “did you have that weird dream again?” “the one where hinata grows to be eight foot three and dunks me in a basketball hoop and leaves me up there and becomes the ace?” “yeah” “yes. yes i did.thanks for reminding me.”

sometimes asks for extra cuddles before getting up to take a shower, and when you say yes he just :):):) and envelops you in his warm embrace and rubs his beard goatee thing on your forehead as you grovel in pain because it’s in that in-between phase where it’s scratchy and long

sometimesasksyoutoshowertogetherbutyouusuallyhavetodecipheritbecausehe’sallblushyandit’ssocuteyoucoulddie

honestly struggles to get up in the morning because he really loves just laying and existing with you, his mind not focused or worried about anything but the way your chest rises slightly out of sync with his, and sometimes he imagines your chest heaving beneath his,,,,but hat’s astory for antoher time

basically; waking up with him is like a fairy tale. his gently lips and even gentler arms wake you up like a queen, and he makes sure that you feel the same way he does. sometimes there’s extra cuddles, sometimes there’s some showering together.

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julemmaes · 3 years ago

Note

ahem... cassian taking nesta to that bookstore (fluff, don’t try making shit sad aight?)

Our First Non-Date

SURPRISE I GUESS!!

Nessian Archeron x Cassian

You can find the first part here.

A/N: this month has been really nice on me. I finally feel better, not crying every day for literally nothing and I wanna dedicate this to my fren Sim (@perseusannabeth) cause homegirl just finished the offcampus series and she's grieving. I know she is. So yep. Take some Nessian fluff

And Nina, I had to add some angsty parts, but they're not Irene Angst Level, okay?

Word count: 6,833

When Cassian had called her back the night after their outing with Amren and Varian, she'd stared at the phone for a full minute until it had stopped ringing and she could go back to reading the article on poisonous plants that Elain had sent her.

It hadn't even been five minutes before the words had been obscured from the call screen again and the name "Cassian Navarro" appeared.

When she had ignored the call for the second time as well, he had decided to change tactics.

Hi Nes, I was thinking about when you'd be free to go to the library. I need a couple of manuals because I'm building a little gazebo in Rhys and Feyre's garden and your sister is putting a lot of pressure on me, so I was wondering if you had the day off tomorrow.

Nesta was stunned at the amount of useless information he had given her, but managed to reply with a simple, Working tomorrow, day off on Wednesday. Sending you the address later.

She certainly hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to get up that day, her will to live must have been hiding somewhere under her bed and Nesta didn't know if it was directly related to their going out or just her stupid brain not being able to connect to real life.

The only other worst thing she'd been able to think of at that moment was having to explain to Cassian what was going on, so, pulled out of bed by the future embarrassment they'd feel in such a situation, she'd managed to dress, wash and style her hair so that she had a braid crowning her head.

She hadn't put too much effort into deciding what to wear, after all, it wasn't a date and Cassian had seen her many times before in far more outrageous and scruffy clothes than the comfortable black jeans and grey jumper she was wearing right now.

The silence had made her uncomfortable at first, only because Cassian seemed to be really stressed - about what, she certainly wouldn't ask - but after about ten minutes, he'd turned on the radio and popped a CD into the player and the melody of a Verve song had filled the cabin.

She'd started humming under her breath and he'd looked at her with a faint smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling. She hadn't mulled over that look too much, but she'd started eyeing him more closely and noticed the way he narrowed his eyes at every street sign and how he ran a hand over his face every time a strand of hair landed in front of his eyes.

When Cassian had to blow the hair out of his face for the millionth time, Nesta pulled a rubber band off her wrist and handed it to him abruptly.

Cassian looked surprised, but took it almost immediately, brushing her fingers. Nesta immediately withdrew her hand, feeling how warm and calloused his were.

"Thanks, my hair is killing me today," he finally spoke.

Nesta continued to look ahead, noticing that they were about to enter the highway. "Well, it wasn't very wise of you not to tie it up before you got in the car. I never drive with my hair down."

He nodded slowly, still with the band clutched between his fingers. And then, suddenly he let go of the steering wheel, "Hold that for me for a second." and Nesta's eyes went wide, launching herself at him to grab it and keep the car in their lane.

"Are you nuts?" she almost shrieked, keeping her gaze fixed on the road and feeling every nerve ending vibrate with anger.

"Relax." he said in a calm tone, shifting her hands and gently pushing her back into her seat one more time. "It wasn't even five seconds."

Nesta huffed out a laugh that lacked amusement, "You do something like that again without warning me first and I'm getting out of the car."

Cassian looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "A bit dramatic, but alright."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly and resting it on her hand propped against the window.

That awkward silence fell again and Nesta couldn't figure out what the problem was. She hadn't felt any kind of unease three days before, but after all, they'd been with friends and busy walking, not stuck in a car for two hours with no chance of walking away or splitting up.

And in that moment, the reality of their situation overwhelmed her.

She forced herself to steady her breathing, opening the window slightly so that more air could get in. She forced herself to think about all the things she would see today at the library and how beautiful and spectacular it had looked from mere pictures. She wasn't going to let her twisted mind stop her from having fun with someone who was desperately trying to be her friend.

She took a deep breath and a surprising calm enveloped her. She looked to her left to see if Cassian had noticed that temporal change in her behaviour, but it seemed to her that he was just as fidgety.

She was about to ask him if he was okay, because the knee that kept bouncing and the fingers opening and closing on the steering wheel were obvious nervous tics, when he did the eye thing again, this time leaning forward over the dashboard as well, and the sharp turn he took to the right caused her to shift in her seat so much that she bumped her shoulder against his.

Cassian grimaced, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What's wrong?" she asked, readjusting in her seat.

"Sorry?"

"What's the matter? With your eyes, I mean."

"Oh." he seemed surprised by the question, almost as if he hadn't realised she'd been observing him for the last twenty minutes. He cast her a curious glance immediately returning to the road. "I wear glasses when I drive, but I couldn't find them this morning and these contacts are the wrong shade and I can't see very well."

Nesta nodded thoughtfully, "Where do you normally keep them?"

"In the glove box. But I already checked," he replied, rolling his shoulders. Another nervous tic.

Nesta had to suppress a smile. There was no way he could be so worked up just because they were talking. She looked down at the phone in her hand to check the time, and a flash of light momentarily dazzled her. She blinked a couple of times and then scoffed, "Found them."

She reached a hand towards the hatch compartment and pulled out a pair of very plain black glasses, handing them to him. Cassian seemed to finally relax since she'd gotten into the car.

"Thank fuck." then he pulled into a lay-by and without turning off the car, slipped two fingers in his eye, removing one contact and then the other, leaving Nesta stunned. He put the glasses on his nose and flashed her a smile that went from ear to ear. And Nesta was stunned for other reasons.

She couldn't deny that Cassian was an attractive man. She wasn't stupid or blind, but the man next to her should have come with a warning sign or a bell.

Attention, hot stuff coming your way.

Nesta forgot the comment she had wanted to make about how antigenic and risky it had been to remove his contacts without first cleaning his hands and in such a dirty environment.

His hair tied back in a messy bun, with the hint of a beard he was letting grow, and now his glasses on, Cassian looked like a model on the cover of a newspaper about sexy carpenters. The short-sleeved black shirt he wore that pulled on his huge biceps every time he moved in the slightest was just one more point to add to the list of things that made him appealing.

"So," he began, getting back on the road, "what's your favourite colour?"

Nesta snorted, "Are you serious?"

Cassian seemed to blanch, "What?"

"Have you ever been out with a girl?" she asked him sarcastically, knowing full well what the answer would be.

He clenched his jaw so hard that a muscle popped out on his face, "Only on dates."

"And this isn't a date." pointed out Nesta, holding back a laugh at how tortured he sounded.

"It's not."

Nesta touched the tip of her nose, thoughtful, "Shouldn't this be easier for you then?"

Cassian released a breath through his nose, "I'm under a lot of pressure right now."

"Yeah?" she asked, looking away and smiling.

"Yeah, and stop looking like you're enjoying it." he retorted.

She feigned innocence, "Enjoying what?"

"My pain." he sheeted.

Nesta laughed, unable to contain herself any longer and when he glared at her, she covered her mouth with one hand, laughing harder. Only when he snapped his fingers against the steering wheel did she stop, laying a hand on his arm, just for a few seconds, "I'm so sorry." she wheezed, "I just don't understand. When you're hanging out with my sisters or Amren, or Mor, I don't know, you don't seem to be in this much discomfort."

Cassian sighed again and Nesta chuckled one last time, stopping when he smiled slightly. "I'm just trying not to make you uncomfortable. You accepted I take you on this non-date, and I'm doing my best not to flirt badly with you every chance I get." he confessed, nodding slowly, as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing and not wasting their time.

Nesta was genuinely surprised at his answer and decided to offer him an olive branch.

"My favourite colour is blue."

"Nice." he smiled, showing a hint of a dimple, "Mine is red."

"It's too bright of a colour," she said lightheartedly.

Cassian chuckled, "I'm pretty sure it reflects my peppy personality."

Nesta nodded, "I read an article once about how a person's favourite colour says a lot about the person themselves," she said annoyed, "It sounded like one of those quizzes you find in gossip magazines, like it was written by a third grader. I hate those things, like horoscopes."

He grunted, "God, Mor's obsessed with horoscopes..."

The conversation continued without any more awkward silences for the remainder of the ride, and when Cassian turned onto a bumpy road, Nesta knew they were close. Of course, even if she hadn't looked at the directions from her house to the place, the myriad cars parked along the road would have been an indication.

They parked in the first vacant spot they could find and as soon as Nesta was out of the car, an icy gust of wind hit her face, making her shiver with cold. She looked over the bonnet at Cassian and found him staring at her with a half smile on his face. He'd left his glasses in the car and had let his hair down again, her hair band on his wrist, and he looked even prettier than before.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked her, with a conflicted look on his face, as if he didn't want to. Nesta narrowed her brows and he hurried to add, "There's no hidden agenda to my offer, just a friend lending a jacket to another friend."

Nesta watched him for a moment, trying to really understand his intentions, but then remembered reading in one of the reviews that the library was heated inside and shook her head.

Cassian gave a small nod of assent and then pointed down the street, "Shall we?"

From where they had parked to the library it would have been about a ten minute walk and Nesta couldn't help but notice the way Cassian kept his distance between them as if he was afraid she would get scared and run away.

He was back to fidgeting nervously with his fingers and when he realised she was looking at him, he put them in his pockets, smiling tensely at her. He took a deep breath and then said, "So, what do you know about this library?"

Nesta looked ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of the building, but the foliage of the trees was still too thick and they were still too far away for it to see anything. She brought her hands to her stomach, crossing her fingers, "I actually did a bit of research before I came. Did you know that the Peace Treaty between Prythian and Hybern of 1864 was signed here?" she asked in an excited voice.

Cassian smiled at her so naturally that she felt herself blush. He had an expression she couldn't decipher, but Nesta had never been good at cracking people in general, so she didn't venture to continue until he said, "Tell me more."

And Nesta launched into a detailed description of the events that had taken place inside the building, which only a hundred years before had become a bookstore. Only one wing of the building had been furnished in such a way as to become a real shop, the rest had been set up to be visited as a museum, one of the oldest libraries. She talked about the architecture and how it was obvious that the palace had been built long before it became an important meeting place for scholars and researchers.

"And in 1932 a fire destroyed the science wing, burning more than a hundred textbooks." Nesta sighed, thinking how devastating that loss had been. She lit up with happiness when she remembered what happened next. "But luckily, one of the most important literary clubs in the city got together and they managed to recover a small portion of the books. It took them years to rewrite every manual, but they got help from one of the local researchers, a certain Mr. Hawthorn, I can't remember the name or details of the research, only that he's mentioned often in the article I read."

When she paused to catch her breath, Nesta realised with immense horror what had just happened. Cassian had not spoken a word after asking her if she knew anything about the place and she had monopolised the conversation without even acknowledging him once. She felt herself flare up and knew in that moment that any hope they had of becoming real friends was gone.

Sometimes she would get lost in thought and ramble on about the things she was passionate about. Quite often people had stopped her, letting her know they weren't interested in the subject, but Cassian had never interrupted her and she was afraid to look at him, convinced she would only find boredom and disgust on his face.

That was why, when he spoke, she was struck dumb.

"I'm impressed." he breathed, chuckling immediately afterwards.

Nesta pushed herself to look at him and he stood admiring her with his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't find the words. She felt her heart clench in her chest so tightly that she didn't know if she could survive the pain. Who knows how many times he'd tried to stop her and she'd gone on and on about windows and arches and treaties of peace.

But when she got a better look at him, stopping in front of him, Cassian looked... happy.

He let out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, and Nesta was distracted for a moment by the sway of his arms before she was brought violently back down to earth when he said, "You surprise me more and more every time, Nesta."

And the way he said her name - Ne-sta - made her toes curl.

"Why?" she managed to throw out in a weak voice.

Cassian laughed again, raising his eyebrows so high they ended under the hair on his forehead, locking his eyes to hers. "I have a degree in history and my final thesis happened to be on this very library." Nesta felt the ground open up beneath her feet and hoped it swallowed her alive. "I came out of university with top marks and various accolades for finishing my studies on time and you, dreadful creature that you are, have just taught me at least three new things about this place."

His gaze was so intense that Nesta had to lower her head to hide the satisfied and surprised smirk that popped up on her lips.

"You're amazing." huffed Cassian, "Perfect in every way."

She shrugged.

"Although," he clicked his tongue against his palate, "You made a mistake."

Nesta looked up at him, frowning, "Oh, yeah?"

Cassian nodded, smirking fiercely, "Why don't you turn around and admire the palace, and once we're inside, I'll explain what it is?"

She must have been so lost in her chatter that she hadn't noticed that they had arrived in the large entrance forecourt, because when she turned, her back to Cassian, the building stood among the forest trees, as imposing and splendid as ever. The photos had not done it justice in the slightest and Nesta was left speechless.

Living in a country with a history going back millennia, it wasn't hard to stumble upon historic streets with old buildings and monuments, but this was completely different.

She was still admiring the way the stone around the windows had been carved to look like trees trying to get into the building when she felt something settle on the small of her back. A hand.

Nesta stiffened slightly, before closing her eyes and relaxing.

Cassian must have noticed her discomfort because a moment later his hand was no longer touching her.

They entered the museum part of the building in silence and Nesta paid the entrance fees, reminding him of the tea he'd offered her last Sunday and Cassian hadn't been able to argue with that.

They had just passed the doors to the first room, the smallest in the entire palace, when he leaned towards her, to the point of touching her ear with his lips.

The fact that he was whispering as if they had been in a sacred place did things to her little icy heart, "Mr. Hawthorn was not a man."

Shocked by that information, Nesta's head snapped in his direction and she realised too late that she had miscalculated the space.

Her lips brushed against his cheek, the corner of his lips, before Cassian reacted so quickly he startled her, but avoiding them both an involuntary first kiss. His sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and he reached out his hands towards her, straightening as he held on to her shoulders.

Both of them were holding their breath.

Cassian cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to the wall of books, but returning to look at her soon after, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, you just surprised me," she said when she had recovered. "I must have read the article wrong."

He was still watching her and shook his head, "Oh no, I don't think it's that. They only found out a few months ago that it was Georgina and not George Hawthorn. They found letters in the house of what was thought to be Hawthorn's wife. Some people think they were just friends, but anyone who has read the letters they exchanged knows full well that they were lovers. Anyone who says otherwise is either homophobic or stupid."

Nesta realised that she could have listened to this for hours on end. And so it was.

The visit continued relatively quietly, Cassian explaining every detail to her, expanding on things she already knew and when he forgot something, she would step in and have her say, commenting on every little aspect.

She'd noticed how Cassian hadn't tried to touch her anymore and how whenever someone was about to bump into her, he'd vocally warn her instead of wrapping an arm around her shoulders to move her out of their way like he had on Sunday.

The visit to the museum lasted less than expected unfortunately, because Nesta hadn't had this much fun in too long. It was becoming easier to smile at him or tease him when he said dumb things and even he seemed to finally be more at ease when he had to make jokes that smacked of him.

When they finally got to the shop, Nesta couldn't stand on her feet anymore, she just wanted to buy all the books she saw and go home and arrange them on her shelves.

"Which section do you want to see first?" she asked him, even though she had started hopping impatiently about the place.

Cassian gave her a smug look, "Why don't you go wherever you want and I'll look for the manuals for the gazebo in the meantime? That way you don't waste time keeping up with me. I'll be right there."

Nesta let out an excited squeal and ran off, hearing only the echo of laughter that shook Cassian from head to toe.

***

As Cassian flipped through the various books to find a picture of a gazebo that looked similar to the one Feyre had requested, he kept casting glances at Nesta.

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed book after book without even reading the synopses. She was in the romance novels section, from what he could see from where he stood, but soon ended up in the classics, where she grabbed just as many books. She moved to the mystery books section, this time stopping to read the plots and putting most of them back on the shelves.

Then, surprising Cassian, she walked over to where the historical novels were and turned to face him. He bent his head to the side, raising an eyebrow to ask her what she was doing there. Nesta seemed at a loss, trying to move all the books from one arm to the other to point him to join her, but Cassian was already halfway there and when she looked back up at him and found him standing in front of her, she gave him a bright smile.

"Hello." she exclaimed.

Cassian's breath caught for a second before he too sighed a greeting.

"I was thinking," Nesta began, running her eyes over the titles in front of them, "that you could recommend something about..." she wiggled her fingers as much as she could, trying to point to the shelf, and Cassian leaned forward, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Here," he removed the first stack of books from her arms and she sagged a little, giving him a thankful look. "I can go get a bag so you can put them all in there and you don't have to carry them like this," he said taking all the books and having her help him arrange them so they wouldn't fall out.

He smiled at her over all the books, looking down at her and she smiled back just as happily.

Hell, if she looked at him like that every time he took her to a bookstore he should do it more often.

He had just turned to go towards the entrance, where he had seen special bags for carrying books, but Nesta stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Wait!" she exclaimed almost impishly.

Cassian turned his head, genuinely worried that something had happened to her in the mere seconds he had been shot. He must have moved too fast, because one of the smaller classics flew off the top of the stack and landed right in her face.

Nesta groaned at the impact and brought her hands to her face, rubbing her forehead where it hurt.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" he asked with wide eyes. And then Nesta laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she stared at him and he visibly relaxed. "Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw a book at you."

She waved a hand in mid-air, to let him know it was nothing, and bent down to pick up what he realised was A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Of course Nesta was reading feminist classics.

She turned back to the books as if nothing had happened and Cassian had the urge to look for a list of all the bookstores in the world to take her to if it meant having her in such a good mood by his side, it didn't matter if she would never agree to go on a real date with him, he realised. As long as he could see her smile like that, he didn't need anything else.

"So, I was saying, before you battered me with a book-" she cast an amused glance over one shoulder at him.

He frowned, muttering, "I said sorry."

Nesta ignored him, "What do you recommend?"

Cassian blinked.

"You said you read historical novels right?" she asked, looking for confirmation, "You could recommend your favourites. But not the English or Russian classics. Or French ones. Chances are I've already read those."

Cassian was stunned. Nesta wanted advice on books. From him.

They were silent for too long as she turned around impatiently, "You lied?"

He looked surprised, "When?"

"When you said you were reading. Were you just doing it to impress me or were you serious?" she asked and maybe Cassian imagined it, but she looked disappointed.

He was quick to reply, "The Black Coat, by Neamat Imam. It's pretty recent, but set in the 1970s in Bangladesh. It's about a man who needs help and seeks it from a journalist he asks for work and one of the main themes is the famine that hit the country after it became independent. It's not my absolute favourite, but it certainly gives you something to think about."

Nesta nodded, searching through the titles and finding it almost immediately, "Anything else?"

Cassian felt his neck heat up and coughed a little before resuming speaking. "The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson. Set in the tenth century, it's about a Viking who is called Red because of his hair and focuses on the European political outlook in the late Viking Age. Again, it's not as good as the historical classics, but it's nice and shows a way of life that we're definitely not used to. It's different."

After looking for a few minutes, Nesta gave up reading and turned to him, crossing her arms. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, "What's your favourite book?"

Cassian shrugged, settling the books against his chest, "I think at the moment it's The King Must Die by Mary Renault. But I change my mind every month when I find something more interesting or captivating."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I'll take that one then."

And Cassian wished he could change the title immediately because... what if she didn't like it? Or if she thought it was a stupid book? What would she think of him then?

But Nesta had already found a copy a few shelves down and there was no turning back.

He could counterattack, though, "What about yours? You're not going to give me any advice on feminist classics or blatantly trashy romance novels?"

Nesta opened her mouth wide, looking outraged as she placed the latest addition on the pile, settling the book under her chin, "How can you say they're trashy if you don't even know what they're about?"

Cassian chuckled, "On the cover of You Came," he said as he gave her a sly look, "there's something called a 'spicymeter'. How am I supposed to take you seriously?"

Nesta blushed, "I read erotic novels, so what? I have to keep myself busy in my spare time somehow."

And then he challenged her, "Get me the hottest book you've ever read," he said in a joking tone, "I'll go get the bag in the meantime."

She had already left for the section when he had an idea that would surely doom him depending on how Nesta would react.

He walked up to the cashier's desk, making sure she didn't notice, and begging the clerk behind the counter to be quick, paid for all her books, gently placing them back in the bags.

When he reached her again, she seemed not to have noticed anything.

"'So, what did you get me? Ride Me? Fucked You Good? Last Night I Gave You A Thousand Orgasms?" he teased her with an annoyed grin on his lips.

Nesta gave him a fiery glance before noticing the bags, quite different from those you put the things you wanna buy in, and closed her mouth tightly. She frowned and looked at them for so long before speaking that Cassian began to feel self-conscious.

"You paid for my books?" she whispered, looking at him.

He nodded.

"It's not a date, Cassian," she reminded him for the umpteenth time.

"I know, but-"

"So why would you pay for things that are mine?"

He couldn't read her. She wasn't hinting at anything.

She didn't look angry but she didn't look impressed or grateful either.

Cassian placed the bags on the ground between them and Nesta followed his every movement with her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "My adoptive family is filthy rich. I have a trust fund that I never get to spend on things I really want to do, the only way I get to use it is by giving gifts to my friends, so just accept these as my first gift - friend to friend - and call it a day."

Nesta continued to be impassive as she kept her eyes fixed on the books.

Perhaps he had gone too far. After all, she had taken more than a hundred and fifty euros worth of stuff, but he really didn't mind.

He was about to apologise, tell her she could give the money back if it made her feel better. Cassian would find a way to spend it back on her at other times anyway.

Then she raised her head, handing him two books with hilarious covers to say the least, "These two have storylines full of plot twists. You won't be able to put them down, but don't expect big epic battles or Viking warriors. It's just two college kids trying to survive in the modern world while finding solace in each other."

He didn't even have time to thank her that she was already across the room and waiting in line so she could pay them.

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"I guess you'll be paying for these two," he said as he caught up with her.

Nesta didn't even look at him, pulling out her wallet, "A gift from a friend to a friend."

As they walked back to the car, Cassian offered to carry the bags, but she didn't want to hear one more word so they had managed to compromise and had split the load equally.

They'd been on the road for about thirty minutes now and Nesta had gone through every book he'd bought her, talking about all the previous works by the authors she was holding in her hand at the moment.

Cassian could have died like that. Happy, relaxed, listening to the plots of those dirty books with no moral lessons to teach the reader, just pure entertainment.

He wondered at that moment if he would make it through the first few chapters of the books she had offered him and let out a heavy breath through his nose as he turned right towards the coast.

Nesta looked at him wide-eyed, stopping her rant about the headmaster's son getting the occasional model student to fall in love with him. She brought a hand to her mouth, "Oh dear, sorry, I'm boring you. I'm sorry."

He gave her a confused look ready to tell her she didn't have to apologise, but she continued.

"Sometimes I do and I don't even realize it. And I realize they're not challenging plots where you have to apply some hidden lobe of the brain to understand them, but they distract me from everyday problems, you know? It's fun to be able to unplug a few hours after I get home from work and-"

"Jesus, Nesta, stop!" he laughed, placing a hand on her thigh. She sighed. "You don't have to apologise. Not when you're so excited about something." he looked at her slyly, offering her a reassuring smile, "In fact, I'm glad you're talking so much today. Normally I have to pull the words out of your mouth."

She blushed slightly and then grew sullen soon after, sitting up straighter, "This isn't the way to Velaris, where are we going?"

Cassian didn't answer.

"You're taking me into the woods aren't you?"

"We literally just came out of a forest."

She ignored him.

"I knew it. You're a serial killer."

"Nes-"

"You're a little dense though. Why would you spend so much on someone if you're going to murder them?"

He decided to ignore her, chuckling, "I'm taking you to the beach."

"Why?" she asked, somewhat unconvinced.

Cassian shrugged, "I wanted to see the sunset."

"You didn't ask."

He sighed, gripping the steering wheel, "Okay," he whispered, then louder, "You want to go to the beach and watch the sunset?"

She nodded in assent and then continued to read the plots aloud.

And Cassian could have sworn he was in heaven.

***

Nesta gathered more sand, making a small ball out of it and placing it on the top of one of the towers she had made so far.

"Where did you learn to make such good sandcastles?" asked Cassian suddenly from behind her, startling her.

She jumped in the air, turning to face him and noticing the satisfied smile on his face for having taken her by surprise.

Nesta didn't answer him immediately, but allowed herself to admire him a bit.

Since they had arrived at the beach, they had taken off their shoes and were now both barefoot and then Cassian had bent down and started to roll his trousers around his ankles, offering to do it to her jeans as well, but Nesta had refused. She had sat down, looking at the sea for a while, while he walked along the shore and collected stones and shells.

When he had come back to her and shown them to her, asking her to make a sandcastle, she had laughed at first, but faced with his serious expression, she had been unable to do anything but get up and roll up her sleeves, moving to where the sand was a little more workable.

She looked away from that heavenly vision and made another ball, placing it next to the one she had just made. "When I was little my mum never let me do these, she said I'd get too much sun and forced me and Elain to stay under the umbrella all day," she replied truthfully, remembering the cruel bite of jealousy watching the children on the shore.

"And Feyre?"

Cassian had joined her, kneeling beside her and had begun to place the shells so that they served as windows to the towers.

Nesta sighed, "Feyre was still too little when Mini Me wanted to build sandcastles, but as soon as I became 'too old to play like a kid'," she gave him a knowing look, mimicking her mother's voice, "and Feyre started to figure out she was an actual being, Mama let her do whatever she wanted. Even stand in the sun for hours on end." she shrugged. "Whether it was out of indifference or love, I never understood."

Cassian had been silent the whole time and now he watched her, hands on his thighs as he waited for her to give him more. For her to tell him another little piece of her soul.

So she offered him a forced smile, "So to answer your question, it's all pent-up creativity."

"Well, you're very good at it," he granted her. "I can imagine what you could have done if your mother hadn't been so strict."

Well, yeah.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?"

"Did you go to the beach a lot?"

Cassian smiled weakly, getting up and heading towards the water to collect more shells. He nodded a couple of times and then said, "My mum and I loved coming to the beach and she loved making castles. And she always put so many 'windows' on the towers-"

Nesta turned to look at their work, realising how many shells he had placed on the piles of sand. She smiled softly, covering her eyes from the sun and watching him walk towards her.

"We always came when she was free from work."

A charged silence settled between them until Cassian chuckled, drawing her attention, "What?"

"You said this wasn't a date. And that we're just friends. Right?"

Shifting her gaze to him, she noticed how he kept his hands hidden behind his back and the mischievous glint in his eyes didn't reassure her at all. Slowly she stood up, nodding.

"So, I must treat you as I would treat my friends. Correct?"

"Cassian, I swear to god that-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence that something wet and sticky landed in her face with a resounding splash, making her jump back.

She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when a strong smell of stale water and seaweed flooded her nostrils.

When she opened her eyes again, wiping the seaweed from her face, Cassian was doubled over in laughter.

She didn't even give him time to get up when she started to run towards him - to do what, she had no idea - but he started to run away too and soon they were chasing each other all around the beach, not noticing the sweet looks they were getting from the people around them.

At that moment, Nesta was running so fast that she could feel the wind in her hair and the smell and sound of the sea, together with the laughter of the man who was chasing her, mixed with her own and the continuous tapping of her feet on the sand, made her feel alive.

She felt Cassian come closer every few metres until two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled up and spun around in the air.

A surprised yelp escaped her as Cassian laughed in her ear, "Gotcha!"

It wasn't until he stopped spinning with her in his arms that they realised the position they were in and immediately broke away, laughing embarrassed.

Nesta turned to face him, her face red from running and her breathing laboured. He was in no better condition. His hair was pointing in all directions and his sculpted chest was rising and falling with haste under the black fabric of his shirt.

He looked away first, scratching the back of his neck and fixing his eyes on the sunset, and offered her his arm as they returned to where they had left theirs things unattended.

Nesta shook her head, laughing one last time and started to run, " Last to reach the castle is stupid!"

Cassian burst out laughing, but he caught up to her in the blink of an eye and they both knew that she had doomed herself to lose. That's why, when he fell tripping over his feet, Nesta knew he had done it on purpose.

She helped him up and they sat back as in silence they watched the sun go down, disappearing past the horizon and the blending lights of the sky created a breathtaking spectacle.

Nesta couldn't have noticed, too busy admiring the clouds, but Cassian had been watching her the whole time, trying to understand how something as sombre and secretive as her could look so bright just by being.

The journey back was silent, but this time the silence was not awkward. They both welcomed it with open arms, a new awareness that there was no need for it to be filled with chatter and that gave Nesta the opportunity to close her eyes for a moment and doze off.

When the car stopped outside her flat, Nesta was surprised to find that she didn't want to get out.

She turned to Cassian after she had gathered her things and nodded, "I had fun today."

He gave her a genuine smile, looking surprised, "Me too."

And then she permanently shocked him, adding, "I'm not working on Saturday, we could do it again. Changing location."

He blinked once. Twice. Then he nodded, "Sure."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more, so Nesta waved goodbye to him and then got out, not waiting for an answer from him.

Cassian stood motionless in the car park of her flat for another half hour, trying to figure out what had just happened, and when the reality of things finally dawned on him, he smiled, "Fuck yeah."

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @hellasblessed @nahthanks @archeron-queens-blog @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @dealingdifferentdevils @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #nessian fic #nessian fluff #fluff

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momoshin · 4 years ago

Text

wrapped in lace — ryujin

you’d think coming home after long hours of running and making content would knock the two of you right out. but you were hoping it did just the opposite, you made sure the car driving you and the girls gets there first, needing to make sure everything was still in place from how you left it before starting your day (and to be able to change into what you had planned) ryujin gets home with the others as soon as you sit down to take a breath. they all know what you have planned, they’re just here for support before they smoothly make an exit.

“you guys got here fast” ryujin points it out and kisses your lips hello like she hadn’t just done that before going into the separate cars (which she complained about for half an hour). she hands you a smoothie, and you quickly notice she’s the other only member with one in her hands.

“ryujin you literally spent twenty minutes thinking of what smoothie to get your girlfriend” yuna rolls her eyes, making the other four laugh at the birthday girl who slightly blushes and shrugs.

“oooooh” lia cheers, interrupting your girlfriend’s soft, sort of questioning stare at you and causing the two of you to look at her, also catching the other three peeking in the room, yuna trying to squeeze her way in between the unnies. “actually we’re going to go eat, call us if you want anything, have funnn”

and just like that, the door is closed. you can hear their steps and what yuna thought was whispers ‘that’s so romantic!!’ ‘ryujin unnie’s probably going to cry’ ‘when did y/n unnie have the time to do all of that?’ that just caused a smile to break into your lips.

“when did you do all of this?” her jaw is open so wide, she’s going to catch flies soon.

“i can’t tell you my secrets” you scoff, a warm, loving smile on your lips as you approached her and dared to wrap your arms around her waist after taking her cross body and setting it on the floor. “do you like it?”

“i love it” she pecks your lips a couple of times, and through all of them you can easily feel the smile that she displayed because of the surprise “can we open presents now?”

“yes baby” the way her voice sounded like an excited kid on christmas morning, and her eyes were so bright, her smile? it melts your heart and you find yourself feeling more love for her than you thought possible.

it’s all pure from there. her pure gasps and smiles or even giggles every times she opens a present and remembers you asking detailed yet questions vague enough for her to not have a clue of the reason behind it.

“where’s the button?” you’ve found yourselves messing around with the new film camera, your girlfriend too excited to leave it for tomorrow like she would’ve said to hide how much she wanted to play with it.

“it says here-“ you begin to read the manual of instructions, and it only takes you a few seconds in to see the blinding light of the flash. “ryujin!”

“found it” she smiles, the two of you giggling softly in the moment. “im keeping this” she smiles, looking at the developing picture of you in what she thinks is your prettiest version, “thank you baby” it's a little muffled against your lips that she keeps kissing and pecking in hopes it helps her express how grateful she is.

"i have one more gift for you" your words too are muffled against her lips, and as soon as she sits back up you look for the red bow you had placed somewhere around the room and stick it right on the top of your head "ta-da"

"oh?" she smiles, opening her arms for you to walk into. she watches you put up your finger as if telling her to wait for you, and undo the zipper of your jacket, letting her catch the red, delicate lace adorning your body. "oh" she's in utter shock, like she hasn't ever seen you like this even though it's a regular occurrence "c'mere, please"

the bow inevitably falls off your head when she pulls you to her by the waist, running her hands all over your body, drinking you in. "is this new?"

"mhm" your hand wraps around the back of her head, keeping eye contact with her as she presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy that wasn't covered by the lingerie set "got it just for today"

"well. i love it" she smiles "almost want to fuck you in it"

"who said you'd be doing the fucking?" your hands cup her face and bring it up to look at you, thumbs grazing against her lips, her pretty, pink lips that you loved so much "lay down for me?"

she trusts you enough to just go with it, and you easily move the gifts from the bed to the night stand. so she had more space in the bed and nothing broke. your hands run all over her uncovered torso by her crop top, and soon, you found your hands kneading and squeezing at her tits. hums and whispers coming out of her lips.

your legs move on their own to get you in bed, between her legs so your hands could do their thing and undo her jeans, her chuckle when you peck her stomach just like she did yours a few minutes ago rings in your ears beautifully. reminding you how lucky you are to have her, that she’s yours and you’re hers.

“i love you” you whisper against her lips when you’ve come back up, sitting on her lap with your hands on the end of her shirt to slowly remove it. “like, i’m in love with you ryujin” you stop your kisses to look at her, look for a reaction. she takes time. to control her breathing and process the words that had just come out of your mouth, her eyes are glossy and her hand runs through your hair gently.

“i’m in love with you too” she whispers after what feels like has been forever, but only has been seconds. her voice is so small and broken, she is so in love with you, it hurts her to think about it.. everything about you makes her feel in heaven.

your smile is so big though, you weren’t expecting her to not say it back, but it felt good to actually hear it. her lips find yours now, and the kiss starts so soft, slow, telling each how much you felt for the other, and its like that for some time, tongues dancing and all. but then her hands start going down to your ass, and you don’t have it in you to stay put when she moves your hips for you, her naked thighs rubbing against your clothed core in delicious ways.

“don’t take it off” she whispers as soon as she sees you sit up in her lap, and her fingers soon loop around the flimsy, tiny part covering your crotch. she thinks about putting it to the side and just watching like this, but then again something about using her strength on or for you makes her feel in control, so she does just that. tears it right off of you.

“ryujin?!” you whine. hands on her naked shoulders as you stare at your thong in her fingers.

“don’t make me gag you with it” she spits, and at the sound of her voice so deep; you whimper, specially when she runs her thumb up and down your clit, eliciting a few gasps out of you too. you try to, with all your inner strength, pull away from her hand, but instead position yourself so your legs could cross with hers. your cunts both fitting together like puzzle pieces. “fuck”

she’s been under you many times before. but the sight before you is so different from those times, she’s biting her lip, eyes half closed, her nipples perked up already, hands on your waist to control you moving, she’s groaning and grunting in such sinful ways too, making you wetter than before and easier for the two of you to move.

she’s closed her eyes when you, still riding her, stretch your arm enough to take the new camera in your hands, she doesn’t even open her eyes when you put a hand on her stomach in a more possesive way than anything, she only does so when she hears the click of the camera shooting the sight in front of it: your cunt glued to hers, your hand spread on her toned abdomen as if to tell anyone who saw the lewd image that she was yours.

she bites her lips at her own sight, you on top, the red lace that she’d yet to rip off your body hugging you so beautifully, your hair down your shoulders and back, you waiting for the polaroid to develop with your teeth digging into your bottom lip. but most importantly the sight of your pussy against hers. the noises you two made, how it felt. she feels dizzy already.

“you better not show that to anyone. specially the girls” she warns, her legs opening wider to give you more space for an advantage of getting the perfect angle between the two of you “fffuck, do that again”

“that?” she wonders if this is how you feel when she starts getting cocky. because you certainly are as you roll your hips over and over again like you had for the few last seconds. you don’t stop asking until she groans out a yes, fingers so tight around the skin of your hips that you were worried she was going to bruise you. “and i don’t know. i think jisu unnie might find it hot, don’t you?”

suddenly, you feel her breath so much closer to your lips than you remember her being, your covered nipples against her naked, hard ones, her hand fully tangled in your hair, pulling well enough to make you hiss and whimper into her lips “im not playing with you y/n” she groans “anyone else sees your pussy and it’s over for you”

“what are you gonna do?” you’re teasing her with your smile, and she hates it so much. how can you be so brave when she’s got you so vulnerable right on her cunt??

“you don’t want to find out.” her hand wraps around you to slap your ass so, so hard, you’re worried for her hand. “why are you being such a whore right now, am i not enough for you?” you’re not responding, just looking at her with your brattiest expression and hoping it pisses her off. not enough for this tight pussy?” she draws a gasp from you when she says the words ‘tight pussy’ because at that same time she’s pushed a finger into you from behind

she smiles against your lips when you muffle something against hers, not finding in you to make actual words and sentences.

“what’s that princess? i didn’t quite catch it” she smirks, kissing your lips and nose so soft as if she didn’t have a whole finger inside you at the same time

“im kidding. im sorry. im sorry” your eyes are shut closed, your clit throbbing and so is your head from all the sensations you’re experiencing right now.

“you’re so easy to handle” she chuckles. not meant to be endearing at all but degrading. “make me cum baby, fuck yourself on my fingers and make me cum. can you do that for me?” she pushes two more inside you just in time.

“yes. yes i can. yes.” you moan and shake when trying to lift yourself off her chest, and she takes the opportunity with the hand that wasn’t inside you, to free your tits out of the lace holding them away from her. you maneuver your hips to be able to sit on her fingers fully, all three of them buried to the hilt, but to be able to rub her clit with yours when you thrust back up.

“so good for me baby.” your girlfriend kisses from your jaw, to your neck, to your chest, always leaving bites soft enough to not mark any part of you. she watches you all along, loving the way small gasps, whimpers and moans all escape your lips that couldnt seem to close unlike your eyes. your eyes had been shut tight for a few minutes now, not being able to look anywhere or even at her.

the heat in your stomach starts growing, but you can’t and won’t cum without her. even if it meant holding it for however long you needed to. “are you close daddy?”

“yeah baby, almost there” ryujin kisses your sweaty cheeks and lifts her head up as much as she can to kiss your swollen lips. “you can cum, you have my permission” she brushes your hair out of your face with her free hand, pecking your lips once again as she watches your face contort in pleasure

“i w-wanna wait for y-you” you return her kisses as you can, in your vulnerable state. and she keeps grunting and moaning against your lips and even going so far as to lift her hips against yours because she just wants to see and feel you shaking on top of her so bad. so bad. “please. please.”

“go ahead princess, cum.., ff-fuck-k im c-cumming-h” her eyes roll to the back of her head, your highs are so hard that you can almost hear ringing in your ears. and the few seconds that you have over her as she still handles her orgasm, you use to kiss all over her jaw and cheeks while still rolling your hips against her.

“happy birthday baby” you whisper after a long while of the two of you looking at each other in silence and attempting to regain your breath, it causes her to giggle and cover her face with her hand at the thought of the two of you engaging in such filthy activities a few minutes ago and you being so soft and loving right after

“thank you my love, for everything” one of her hands runs her nails up and down your back as she watches you blush and smile at her. “how much time do we have left?”

“like an hour max” you whisper after looking at the alarm clock on her nightstand. “why”

“there’s one more thing i want to try”

#gif credits; ryudaeng #itzy smut #kpop smut #my stuff #itzy imagine #itzy imagines #ryujin smut #ryujin x reader #happy ryujin day :)

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say-narry · 3 years ago

Text

Ride it

Characters: Harry!husband x Reader

Word count: ~1.8K

Warnings: insinuations, oral sex, explicit sex

Author's note: I don't know much about basketball, but here it is. Again, English is not my first language.

Versão em PT-BR

***

I felt that sometimes Harry didn't learn how competitive I was, even after years of marriage. We had a bet on which of our favorite basketball teams would win tonight and well, I won.

We were at an NBA championship game, me rooting for my big Lakers and Harry for the Celtics.

Between dunks and shots, Lakers won 81-71. It was a good game for both teams and even better for me.

I avoided my little victory dance so as not to hurt Harry, he hated to lose and I knew how hurt he was like a kid without dessert, so since he had lost, I just clapped my hands and smiled.

After leaving the crowd that came to take a picture with Harry, even the Lakers fans, we had made it into the car. I just glared suggestively at Harry and he just ignored me or stuck out his tongue like a tantruming child.

What can I do? He invented this and also the payment of the bet, my team just did their job.

We put on our seat belts and Harry started the car.

Harry hummed softly and I bit the ligaments in my fingers with my elbow against the car door, while H drove through the streets of Los Angeles.

The music had changed from quiet to more upbeat, I loved it, and like cartoons, a light bulb went on above my head.

I still hadn't thought for sure what my prize would be, but Harry, if I had won we would have to do heavier banter in public, since I was very reserved being a kindergarten teacher, but I think I might go further tonight.

"Let it be, let it be, let it be known..." I began "Touching and teasing me, telling me no, but this time I need to feel you..." I held Harry's hand that rested on the backrest between us. He pulled it lightly and kissed it, without taking his lips off the road, I couldn't wait to have fun tonight.

***

We arrived a few minutes later, I went to the bathroom in our suite while Harry activated our house alarm.

I literally ran through the shower, grabbed the lilac silk camisole that barely covered my buttocks. I had bought it the day after we had placed the bet, but I hadn't told Harry, I wanted him to have fun too if I won.

Grabbing my perfume from the huge shelf in our bathroom, I sprayed it on my neck, between my breasts and wrists. I untied my hair and that was it.

A beautiful hot girl.

I lay down in the middle of our bed and crossed my legs waiting for Harry to arrive, I grabbed my cell phone that I had left on the bedside table and looked for a song in the playlist setting it on the TV installed on the wall of the room.

"Babe, how about we plant..." Harry opened the door and faced me "...Daisies outside, but what's that? I lost the bet..." His mischievous grin appeared in moments.

"We can both win the bet, Mr. Styles." I blinked returning the smile.

Harry was wearing a white button down shirt with sleeves, there was a Celtics logo printed on it with dark maroon pants matching the top and black all stars.

His hand hooked on the first button of his blouse, but I stopped him.

"No sir... I want to see you take off your clothes, but slowly and with background music." I lifted my body and spread my legs a little, giving Harry the view to see that I was wearing the panties he loved most on my body.

Grabbing the TV remote, I put the music on. Harry had his hands resting on his waist, his cheeks had blushed repeatedly and his head was shaking negatively.

"Come on, baby... This will be my prize," I whimpered a little.

"A strip tease, honey? You swear?" He laughed nervously, he really didn't expect it.

"I've already done it for you and you know how much I like this song. I stood up and went bouncing over to Harry, his hands sliding from my waist to my buttocks, where I could feel his fingers pressing hard into my flesh to the point where I could feel the frosting of his rings.

Kissing the jaw that I idolized so much, I moved slowly down to Harry's neck, and he closed his eyes with a sigh and nodded.

I kissed him and turned my back to the edge of the bed, biting my lips to hold back my victory shout.

I went back to the music from the beginning after groping around the bed for my cell phone, Harry had dimmed the light even more, letting only the brightness of the full moon shining through the glass illuminate his body.

Harry's fingers slowly unbuttoned his shirt, slowly revealing the tattoo of birds and the butterfly on top of his belly.

He looked down at me, his eyes staring into mine as I felt my breathing become heavy. I didn't deny how much power Harry had over me, nothing to do with S&M, but he exuded sympathy and sensuality, and it held me in a surprising way.

As soon as he finished unbuttoning his shirt, it fell from his shoulders to the floor, I don't know if he had done it on purpose as I rambled on, but the V-shaped line giving the path to my happiness was showing in conjunction with the branch tattoos.

I could feel my panties getting wet. Harry blinked slowly at me, which made me bite my lips as a reflex.

Holding the button of his pants like it was the heaviest thing in the world, Harry brought out his tattooed biceps, I wanted him to hold me tight with those arms and I had Harry's physical trainer to thank for that, he really went all out with his training routines.

The button on his pants was like a signal to come back from my thoughts "Stop dreaming and focus on me, (Y/N), I'm here and I'm your man!"

Okay, I am no longer feeling my legs, only the river that had formed between them.

Walking slowly over to me, Harry held my face tilting it so that I could look at him. I struggled to find words due to the closeness and warmth being emanated from the palm of his hands. "I'm just admiring you, Hazz..."

Leaning his face up to my ear, Harry let out "I make you hot, baby girl?" I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I noticed his erection strongly marking his pants, making my mouth water, I just moaned softly in agreement.

With that, he planted a kiss just below my ear before continuing down my neck and along my collarbone. His teeth brushed against my skin a few times, but the feel of his tongue soothing each spot made me cry out for him between softer moans.

Over the top of the sweater, he reached for my breasts, Harry kneading them, until his fingers laced through the shoulder straps and down my arms.

Putting one knee between my legs, Harry slipped his arm around my waist and pushed my body to the middle of the bed.

Lying on top of me and with my breasts already showing, he deftly caressed one while his mouth worked on another nipple, gently flicking and swirling his tongue around it.

I arched my back involuntarily and my fingers tugged at his hair with the sensation. "Harry." I sighed his name between the faint moans escaping my lips.

"You are as sweet as your scent, my woman," he murmurs against my skin. "I need to taste you for the rest of my life, know this."

"Hmm" I murmur as he moves to stand between my legs, gently pulling my panties down in one swift motion. He settles into place, kissing the inside of my thigh, stopping before where I needed it most, doing the same with my other thigh. "Stop teasing," I beg.

Harry chuckled lightly. "Patience, dear."

But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he runs his finger through my folds, stopping at my clit, applying enough pressure to make my head fall back against the pillow.

He quickly replaces his finger with his mouth, kissing my clit before sliding his tongue down my slit, teasing my already wet entrance.

Harry places his mouth back on my clit, swirling his tongue around and flicking it. He hums against me, enjoying the noises he is causing in me, and my back arches out of the bed.

"Don't stop," I exhale with my eyes closed.

I feel him shove two fingers inside me, and from that moment on, I that I wouldn't last much longer. As he pumped his fingers firmly, I could feel that euphoria approaching fast.

"I'm going to cum," I grunted. "Fuck!"

"Mhm," he hums against me, "But already, my love?"

My eyes close harder as the orgasm coursed through my body.

My thighs trembled as Harry continues to work. He slowed the movement of his fingers and used his other hand to rub his side gently.

When I opened my eyes again, his face was in front of me. "Hi," he whispers and leans in for a brief kiss.

Time to reciprocate, I thought already stretching my hand towards his member, he interrupts me by grabbing my wrist and I face him "Today is about the winner...," he says. "And now, I need to be inside you." "I like that, love..." I confessed. With a teasing laugh, Harry kneels between my legs and removes his pants with his underwear, leaving his cock pointed up and with its lubricated little head in my field of vision.

Without time to think much, my admiration turns into a groan as I feel him begin to thrust into me.

"Great game, lovie!" he teases and I let out a gasping laugh. He gives me a second to relax and adjust, nudging his side and taking my hand, intertwining my fingers with his.

"Still with me?"

I exhale and smile at him. "Yes, keep going."

It takes a few strokes before he is fully in me, Harry sets a steady pace, and I revel in the pleasure.

"Shit," he utters. "Do you feel as good as I do, baby?"

I can't say much except moan as I feel him stretching me taut. Harry places his thumb on my clit and begins rubbing in tight circles. My eyes almost roll back, and I can feel the next orgasm growing inside me.

"I'm close," he groans hoarsely. "I want you to cum with me, baby."

I whimper as I hear his tone and nod my head. His movements become faster and his breathing becomes more irregular.

"Oh, God," I say choking, as my body begins to tremble with his second orgasm. "So good, Harry..."

The supreme sensation makes me involuntarily squeeze his member inside me. Harry stands still and settles down, and with a groan, I feel him release himself inside me.

He rests his forehead against my shoulder as we both try to catch our breath. I rub his back slowly, feeling my fingernails leave some marks.

When he lifts his head, Harry had a few drops of sweat all over his face, but without taking my beloved smile away... "I never thought I would say this, but I hope the Lakers win more often from now on."

I give a muffled laugh stealing a kiss.

Lakers... win again, please.

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

Hey you! If you like it, please tell me to keep encouraging me.

#harry #imagine harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #imagines harry styles #prompt harry styles #fanfic harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the “converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins. “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, “Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims, finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend” and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something. Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.” She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

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yeongwvnhi · 4 years ago

Text

ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ

Pairing - Baekhyun x fem reader -> exes to lovers | Genre - Angst, fluff | warnings - none | taglist - @twancingyunhoe @trashlord-007 @tiddy-boys | synopsis - when Baekhyun and you broke things off a year ago, it felt alright, but you came to the painful realization that nobody could ever replace him or love you like he did | word count - 2.1k | thanks to @tiddy-boys for beta-reading ♡

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It's days like these, rain hitting the window in harsh taps and angry wind blowing, when the nostalgia hits the hardest. After all, you were always one to dwell on the past. It's just what you do.

Every day felt the same after the two of you broke things off. You don't even remember why exactly you even ended it in the first place. The pain still sits deep, coming to haunt you when you least expect it.

Rainy days like those just trigger the nostalgia, the memories and bygone feelings.

It's 12pm when you check your phone, yet you're still laying in bed. The lack of motivation due to this sudden wave of sadness is something you're not experiencing for the first time.

And it's killing you slowly. These feelings are eating you up from the inside out.

Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams.

"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic"

You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them.

instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram.

One peek won't hurt, right…?

His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…

"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page.

He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year.

Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual.

So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight.

"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face.

"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?"

The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'.

This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed.

—

Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face.

"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low.

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way.

And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance.

"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into.

Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?"

His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do.

He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure.

But the damage is already done.

You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him.

You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand.

He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-"

You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting.

"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N"

"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile.

"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now.

"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain.

"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick"

You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two.

—

Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along.

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him.

He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-"

"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you"

Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?"

"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower.

You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved.

Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came.

"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself.

You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all.

—

You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit.

"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit.

"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?"

"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask.

"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?"

You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest.

"So, uh-"

"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes.

"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you.

You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure.

He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general.

The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago?

Baekhyun remembers it all too well.

It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff.

Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other.

And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.

You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone.

And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening.

"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes.

"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts.

"How has life been for you?"

A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now"

You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic"

"Have you… found someone new?"

You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see"

"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on"

His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither"

You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway"

"Hey!" He exclaims in shock.

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time"

"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth.

"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort.

"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose.

His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags.

"Shut up" You weakly fight back.

Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?"

You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face.

"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist.

After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?"

He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you"

"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle.

Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses.

One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours.

You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now.

He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth.

"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?"

"You bet"

#yuki writes #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #prism.nw #lsn.works #supermwritersnet #wkcnet #theBBHday #exo fluff #exo angst #exo imagines #exo scenarios #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun imagines #baekhyun scenarios #yeongwvnhi.txt

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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

all the flowers will bloom

summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.

warnings: honestly nothing, really! well, i’m busting out this chapter once again, before i go into work so there are most likely typos!!

background: so this is inspired by the myth and stuff, but there are for sure some differences!! the world of mythology is so so intricate and it’s hard to get everything down and accurate- so i took the liberty to not LMAO

word count: 3.1k

You remembered having a slightly rebellious phase that lasted maybe ten years. It wasn’t long at all in the grand scheme of things, and the things that you did were simply things that people with normal parents did. The type of parents who weren’t afraid of their children being stolen from them. One time, you remembered sneaking into a forest where nymphs you didn’t know were, and they loved you on sight, without even knowing who you were. An even more grand escape involved a human celebration, the solstice to be exact, and a man with sea green eyes. He was taken by you, and for a minute, you remembered being taken by him. You were loved by everyone who knew you, and by those who only met you briefly, even the older gods.

So why had you not heard of anyone coming to get you? It had only been a few hours, but you knew that your mother had already gone crazy. She had some kind of danger meter when it came to you, and you were surprised that she hadn't sensed the fact that you were scared and somewhere unfamiliar yet. You used to hate the danger meter that always seemed to know when you were up to being the young soul you were, but now you were counting on that bothersome danger meter.

Hades had been kind enough to show you to where you would be staying herself. You expected a ghost or some sort of half dead spirit to give you a tour of the place, the one place you were never supposed to be, but she did it herself. She was rather monotonous, and she sounded like she would rather be counting the souls in her domain one at a time, but she did it. The short tour ended with the door slamming in your face after you told her that your mother would be searching for you, and then there you were.

There were no windows in your room, and you weren’t even sure that you wanted any in the first place. The windows in your home showed beautiful mountains and valleys and there was even a meadow, but the Underworld was nowhere near as beautiful to you. You missed your colors, you missed singing to the flowers and coaxing soil into being healthy enough to grow crops. It hadn’t even been a full day, and you were facing from withdrawals. And you were too scared to even address the fact that you could still smell the death, and that you could still feel it lingering around you even after the Lady of the Dead cast whatever spell that she did.

It felt like you were being sucked from the life that was always naturally within you, and it was terrifying.

The room was just as dark and dismal as the rest of the Underworld, or, at least what you had seen of it. It was depressing and gloomy, and it made you feel like a prisoner. With every passing second, you regretted not listening to your mother. You sat on the stiff bed, your eyes welling with tears as the extent of what happened started to sink in. Your hands shook as you wiped your cheeks, even though the action was useless against the new army of tears that were marching down your face, rounding the curve and clinging to your skin.

You knew what was happening. You replenished the tree. You fixed it, and with fixing the historical tree that you should have known about, you ultimately and unintentionally signed your life away, consenting to being stolen down into the Underworld until you could fix the entire Elysian Garden. You thought it was an impossible feat, and if by the grace of all the Olympian Gods you did succeed, it would be years before you finished. A sob escaped your throat and you turned to lay on your stomach, sobbing into the pillow that was less than comfortable.

You were going to be dead before you even got a look at flowers again.

§§

Before you even realized that you fell asleep, you were being woken up by the feeling of death grasping at you, tickling every hair on your body. You rolled to the side to catch your breath on the hard bed and let yourself cry again, the pitiful noises so loud that you didn’t even hear anyone approaching you.

Two hands grabbed you and turned you on your back, and you coughed weakly at the ceiling. “It should work,” you heard a voice mutter, and then there was a warm palm right on your throat, the other above your sternum as you tried to catch your breath. All you could focus on was the warmth, the sheer warmth that you expected to find nowhere in the realm of the dead. As your airways unclogged, you turned to the side and hacked again, breathed in and out a few times, and then turned to look towards the person who saved you.

She looked different. Somehow, she looked even more intimidating in the all black clothing she was wearing. It was a far cry from a dress, and closer to the suits that you saw humans wear. She was staring down at you with her calculating and cold eyes, examining you and surely judging. You made your own judgement. “Why are you so warm?”

Her hard expression faltered. “What?”

You narrowed your eyes at her, forgetting for a moment that she was as old as dirt and that she could easily take your breath away without any effort. “How are your hands so warm?” you got utter silence from her, and you knew that she was cursing at you in her head. “You’re dead.”

There was the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face. “I’m not dead. I’m a god, I don’t die.”

You didn’t think you could, either, but you had been at Death’s door twice already within twenty four hours. “How are you the Goddess of Death and the Underworld if you’re not dead?”

“Are you not the Goddess of Agriculture?” She asked, one of her brows arched. “Then why are you not a stalk of corn?”

You shook your head. “That’s not the same.”

She gave you a look. “It certainly is.”

“How are you ruling over a group of people without ever knowing how it feels to be the way that they are?” You asked.

“You do not know how it feels to be a flower, yet you make them grow.” She reasoned, and you shook your head adamnely. “I do not have to be able to die to know how someone feels. I have witnessed it for years and years.”

“But I do know how it feels to be a flower,” you corrected, voice soft as you began to slip onto the mindset you got when your bare feet touched the grass. “I feel every living thing near me, all the time. I can feel the energy that comes from flowers. I can feel the way they drink up the sun and the rain, and the way they weave their roots into the ground. I can feel seedlings sprouting from the soil, and I can feel buds coming alive to show petals. I know how it feels to be a flower, and a tree, and a shard of grass, and a stalk of corn. That’s why I do so well with them.”

It was silent between the two of you as you got an eyeful of her, and she did the same to you. You found yourself staring into her eyes, and you noticed that they held more color than Bucky’s seas. Her eyes might have been the most colorful thing in the kingdom she ruled. She blinked, and you stopped your staring. “Will you bring that same confidence to my garden?”

“I do not know if I can fix something so dead.”

“My tree had been dead for thousands upon thousands of years, and you made it bloom again.”

“It wasn’t surrounded by death,” you pointed out, and she crossed her arms. “I mean, well, it was, but not like everything down here is. This place drains me.”

“It will until you accept that you’re here,” she said, and you scowled at her. “You will wake up in pain until you understand that you’re here. It’s a side effect of dying.”

Your heart raced in your throat. “Dying?”

“You’re not dead, not yet.” When you gave her a horrified look, she smirked. “A human would be dead the second they arrived, but because you’re a god, it will work slowly for you.”

“Are you saying that I have a literal deadline?” You asked, voice wavering slightly as you tried to be brave while thinking about all the ways you could possibly get the godforsaken garden to grow, and as fast as possible. If you didn’t see your mother again in one piece, there would be hell to pay. She would find a way to resurrect you to kill you all over again.

“As long as you let me take the death out of your system, you’ll live long enough to fix my garden.”

You figured that was what her touch was doing to you. You remembered someone touching your throat after you fell, and you knew it was her. She took the death out of you, but it still hovered over your skin, anxious to get back inside of you and eat you whole. It knew just as much as you did that you had no business being there. At least, not alive.

You knew that the likelihood of you being able to fix the garden was slim to none. Part of you wanted to say no to save yourself from the humiliation of pushing yourself. You were supposed to be an expert at growth, some even said you were better at growing than your mother. She focused on the big picture, getting out as many crops as possible and sometimes forgetting quality, but you took your time. She was more powerful than you by miles and miles, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe you could do it. You were going to have to, if you wanted to leave. “Has anyone else ever tried to grow your garden?”

The Goddess of the Underworld was so silent that you thought she didn’t hear you, but when you looked over at her, she was staring right at you with her undead eyes, an unreadable look on her face. “One.”

You nodded and looked at your hands, and the flowers that were hanging on to life by a thread. You shook your head and sighed, and then sighed again. “I would like to see what I’m working with.”

§§

Hades walked quickly, but her steps lacked urgency. She walked with her head held high without even knowing it, and her steps were so loud that it cleared every dark and bare hall that they echoed in. Her subjects held the image of her with respect, and you saw every single one of them at least bow their heads to her. She kept her eyes forward, never once looking back at you to check that you were following. She stepped into an elevator-like contraption and looked forward once you stepped in the space next to her, and looked at the buttons on it.

“This is… fancy.”

“Did you think there were stairs to every single level?” She asked, and you pursed your lips. “That’s a lot of walking.” Her finger hovered over a button, number two, and then you realized that you were on the middle ground, the third level. “You aren’t to go on any of the levels but the third by yourself, do you understand?”

You held back your scowl at being told what to do. “Why not?”

“The first level is the entrance to my kingdom. There are plenty of wailing souls and rivers that no living thing should ever see. It would give you quite the shock.” Your brows shot up. You didn’t expect for her to give you a reason, and maybe it was because your mother never really gave you any good ones. “The second level, which is where we’re going, is for the best of humanity. It’s full of honorable humans and demigods. That level is called Elysium.”

You knew of that level. Everyone who had swooned and fawned over Achilles made sure that Hades put him in Elysium after he died, where he would be with all of the other warriors and scholars. Even your mother favored the young man, but it wasn’t enough to get her to beg to Hades. You were starting to irrationally fear that nothing was going to be enough to get her to beg the woman, maybe not even you.

“The third layer is the Asphodel Meadows. There's not many things left that make it a meadow, but it’s for the typical human. It was designed for people who haven’t done wrong nor good, the ones who didn’t particularly make a mark on the world and those around them in a good or bad way.”

“I’d bet a few people I used to know are there now,” you said softly, and she looked over at you with a confused look on her face. You shrugged at her, thinking that she was judging your human friends for not doing any spectacular deeds in their short lifetimes. “My friends, I think they may be there now.”

“You make friends with humans?”

“I make friends with anyone and anything,” you said. “If they allow me to.”

She stared at you for a long moment, and then started to talk again before finally pressing the button. “The fourth level is nothing more than a thick layer between the third and the fifth, which is Tartarus. You know that.” You did. You knew that only the worst of people, and the Titans, resided there. Humans who killed for fun or did major harm went to Tartarus, the lowest level of the Underworld, and the most torturous. “Never attempt to go into the fifth level.”

You didn’t want to. No one wanted to see Tartarus with their own eyes, and hear what no doubt was screams and sounds of pain and anguish. It was a world full of punishment for horrific crimes, and it was no place for someone like you to be. She surely didn’t have to tell you twice.

“Where’s your dog?” You blurted, and she gave you a mildly annoyed look as she waited for you to elaborate. “You have a three-headed dog.”

She breathed in through her nose and rolled her eyes at you, but you were looking at her face closely enough to see that a small smile was threatening the corners of her mouth. “Cerberus is destructive. He guards the gates of the Underworld, which means you will probably never meet him.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing such an unusual and rumored to be humongous dog was enticing, but you didn’t want to see souls getting carted off while screaming, either. The doors opened, and she stepped put first, once again not even worrying about if you were following her. The second that you stepped out of the closure of the four walls, you were met with something that you never thought you would see in the Underworld.

There were remnants of colors all around, like there was once a beautiful set up that could have rivaled the above ground. You saw dead ivy crawling on walls of the cave-like walls, and you could feel the crunch of dead grass beneath your feet. Death was swirling all around you, and even though you felt sick, you couldn’t help but push that feeling aside for curiosity. You could almost picture everything in your mind. This place was without a doubt, once very alive.

“How did it use to be so alive?” You whispered, mostly talking to yourself as you forgot that the Goddess of the Underworld was standing feet from you, watching you take everything in. “It used to be gorgeous, I can feel it.” Your frown quirked upwards just a bit as you stepped forward and then went downwards again once you felt a familiar yet faint feeling, and once you touched a leaf with your pointer finger, you were slammed with it. “This… my mother did this.” Your head whipped towards Hades, who was watching you with a bored expression. “This is my mother’s work, that’s why it felt so familiar. She was here?”

“She’s the one who made this garden, young god.” When your face went slack, she smirked. “Not out of the kindness of her heart, I will admit. Steve made her.”

“Why?”

“Because even the dead deserve something beautiful to look at.” When you started to open your mouth, she held a delicate yet strong hand up, halting your lips from moving. “I know what the above grounders think about us. It’s called the afterlife for a reason, you know. These are people down here, regardless of whether you want to believe it or not. So, yes, they deserve something as simple as a meadow.”

You let her words sink in and echo softly against the walls as you stared at the dead plants, struggling to hold onto the last bits of your mother’s energy that still lingered. “Did they die because she left them?”

Hades frowned. “They died because she killed them.”

You shook your head adamantly, quickly denying her claim. “My mother doesn’t harm land. She never has, and she never would.”

“What makes you so sure that she’s not spiteful and hateful towards me that she wouldn't do that?”

“My mother-”

“Is a harsh woman. She is as punishing as she is gracious, and you know that. Your mother and I never liked each other, and it only got worse as the years went on.”

You knew that your mother’s hatred for the goddess before you ran deep. You doubted that it was deep enough for your mother to harm the earth, but you never knew. Hell, you never knew that your mother had ever even been to the Underworld. “I don’t think I’ll be able to revive what my own mother has destroyed,” you admitted. “She’s much stronger than me. If she really did kill it like you said she did, then I don’t think I’m powerful enough to reverse it.”

A staring competition happened right there between the two of you, her eyes the same calculated look as always and yours holding the one that pleaded for understanding, for release. “You’d better figure it out, flower girl. Preferably before your mother decides to wage a war for you.”

The goddess turned to walk away, and when you caught sight of her back, your lips opened before you could even stop them. “What’s your real name?”

She stopped in her tracks without turning around, but you saw the tension grow in her back. “Why?”

“I’m not going to call you by the name that the humans do,” you said, not even bothering to contain the scoff you wanted to give. “I try to call everyone by the names that they have given themselves.” That, and the name was meant to be scary. It was supposed to intimidate and incite fear into people, and you weren’t scared of her. She showed no side of herself that made you think that she was anything like your mother said she was.

She turned around slowly, her face expressionless and she looked you right in your eyes in a few moments of silence. “I renamed myself Natasha.”

Natasha. For a split second, you wondered where she got the name from. Did it come to her in a vision? Did she read it in a book somewhere? Did she take it from a human she admired? Did she even spend time admiring humans? “Then I will call you that.”

“You can call me whatever you want to,” she sighed out, turning on her heel again to stalk away from you.

“You didn’t even ask my name,” you called out, heart racing slightly at the idea of benign left alone in the Underworld, outside of the protection of the room that you had woken up in.

“I know enough about you to last me many lifetimes, Persephone.”

“I-it’s Y/N,” you muttered, but the doors to the elevator shut right on your words, and then you were left alone.

****

taglist: @teenwonder @saamwilscn @messuhp @username23345 @dontmindmejustreading @bitchuwish @blackxwidowsxwife @anxiousgoldengirl @russianredassassin @dailyavengering @blackluthxr @coxmicbabygirl @alytavzla sorry if i missed anyone!!! you can ask to be removed or added at any time!

#natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #lgbt marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fics #natasha romanov x reader #hades!natasha x persephone!reader #hades!natasha #greek mythology au

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Day - Nolan Patrick

Words: 2.2k+

Type: Fluff and slight Angst

Summary: You and Nolan are very different. Your bubbly personality is something that does contrast with his own. Yet he finds himself lost when that so happy person loses her spark after a hard and sad day.

Warnings: A lot of crying over college stuff (negative grades, overworking, etc.). Affectionate reader. Slight mentions of blood (from falling).

You and Nolan have been dating for almost 2 years, now. Some people do agree that your relationship was quite odd when it began, but those who are the closest noticed how much you two belonged together.

The surprise behind your relationship is mostly around the topic of how your personalities are nothing alike. You are this loud, bubbly, excited and happy human being, and you’re dating this silent, introverted, deep-voiced man. He, obviously, isn’t so silent when he’s with his friends or you only, but people still describe him as so.

Sure, you understand the shock but you two truly love each other. And that should be the only thing that matters, right?

You and Nolan aren’t exactly very active on social media. Yet you post more pictures of yourself than he does. And just by your feed, people seem to notice how different you two are.

Some people find it cute, while others not all that much. So you two try to limit as much posts with the two of you together as possible. And even though that comes with a lot of rumoring of you breaking up, you’re just, honestly, trying to minimalize the hateful words you usually receive.

But, yes, you two are very different.

You can notice that in how the two of you interact with each other. Nolan, being this more closed off person, doesn’t seek that much physical and affectional touch. Not as much as you, surely.

You hug him, cuddle him, snuggle onto him, kiss him, play with his hair, and so on. And you do that while battling his whines right in your ear of how he didn’t want to cuddle at that moment.

Bad thing for him, you look right through his shit. This man loves when you hug him, kiss him, play with his hair, etc.. He just doesn’t like to admit it.

Your affection doesn’t really leaves your apartment, since you two aren’t both two big fans of PDA. But, hand holding or hugging his arm close to you when it’s cold, is almost always happening when out of the house. Again, he doesn’t mind it at all.

And that’s literally how your relationship works - one whines and the other gives hugs.

Yesterday was a Sunday, and it went particularly well. It was Nolan’s day off, so he spent most of his day playing video games with his friends. You worked on an assignment while sitting next to him, and once when you were done, you sat in Nolan’s lap, ignored his protests - which lasted 10 seconds - and just fell asleep against his chest, completely exhausted with everything you’ve been doing for college.

You honestly thought this week wouldn’t be all that bad since it doesn’t all that much going on. Weekend was good, and that usually was enough to set the mood for the rest of the days.

But, you thought wrong. Very wrong.

You went to college around the same time Nolan went to practice, you had breakfast together and everything was good. But that was until your teachers started to announce that they already had the grades of some tests and assignments.

In two of your 3 classes, today, a teacher gave you a grade. Both of them negative grades.

The worst part? You thought these were the two evaluations that had gone well and seemed pretty easy when you did them.

If this is your results to the ‘easy’ ones, what about the ones that you, actually, struggled with?

After college, you walked back to your apartment, eyes already covered with tears over your failed evaluations, and right as you’re about to get home, you trip over your own feet.

Right when you looked down at Nolan’s text.

Even though nobody was in the street to see it, you felt more than humiliated. Your knee was now painted in dark red over the fresh wound, from your fall, and you were in pain.

This is just a whole recipe for disaster.

When you got home, Nolan was still not back. And that just helped you with wanting to break down more as you walked through lobby of your home.

It’s usual warmth welcomed you home but it did not provide any sort of comfort.

You went into your phone to try and distract your mind by scrolling through social media or looking at pictures with your friends and Nolan. But from not the lack of social media in these last few days, you let your eyes focus on old notifications popping up, comments, which are a few days old.

All of them negative.

From how you were using Nolan for his money or fame, to how unlucky he is to be dating someone like you. Insults were just scattered all throughout your feed.

As if your day could get any worse.

After half an hour of crying, you were able to force yourself into taking care of your nasty wound. Yes, there were some more tears and sobs here and there. But you feel more calm than before.

You ended up not texting Nolan since you were too preoccupied after your fall to remember anything. And he found it strange.

He had just texted you saying that practice was over when he got off the ice, and since then, he hasn’t received anything.

He kept on checking his phone. He checked it when he took his gear off, after he showered, when he got dressed, etc.. He kept on doing it, and still nothing.

And now, you are laying on your bed, in way more comfortable clothes, and under your comfortable and fluffy duvet and a blanket over your head. Your lap top is right next to your head and only your face isn’t shielded from any colder temperatures.

Tears would make their way back to you in between every few seconds while you force your mind to focus on a random video of reality show highlights. It’s like you can’t really control your body anymore.

Constantly reminding you of your failures as you keep on trying to focus on something else. But nothing. Nothing is working.

Over the loud background music and the dramatic screaming from your lap top, you don’t hear the front door of your apartment opening.

Nolan stands by the door, closing it behind him. He walks slowly to your living room, finding an empty couch. He checks the kitchen, still nothing. So he walks to your bedroom.

It’s awfully strange to not have you right around the corner to welcome him home. He had never noticed it before, but it had become apart of his routine already.

He opens the bedroom door slowly and his eyes finally find you. The slight creak of the door makes you look away from the screen and look up to find your boyfriend staring down at you.

To Nolan’s confusion, you didn’t do your usual ritual of when you spot him. You didn’t get up from your bed and gave him a kiss or a hug, you just continued to lay there.

Your eyes go back to the screen, fighting off your tears once more, and you hear Nolan start taking his shoes off.

He doesn’t say anything, filling the room in its natural silence, and walks to your side of the bed.

“Scoot over.” He whispers over the sound coming from your laptop.

You move your computer first, moving it to Nolan’s side of the bed, as you crawl to the middle. He slides under the duvet and blanket and you turn around, deciding to face him.

Nolan lays on his side, elbow on your pillow as he holds himself up and rests his face on his fist. His eyes are on you, studying your face, the way your eyes are slightly swollen and watery and how your lips seem to always curve in a small pout.

“What happened?” He whispers, not wanting to break the silence.

“Had a bad day.” You whisper back, blinking your tears away.

“Was it college?” He asks, you nod, “A test?”

You nod again and soon his face changes into a pitiful scowl. He feels bad for you, especially after yesterday, when you were so excited to finally have time for yourself. All of it ruined just because your grades are coming back to you as negatives.

“The other assignment I did, like, 2 weeks ago?” You ask him to see if he remembers, and he nods, “Failed that one too.”

Your voice is broken, your chin is starting to shake. You’re a blink away from breaking down again and Nolan feels so helpless. He wishes he could help you with college, but his knowledge in whatever degree you’re dating is close to nothing.

“-And I fell outside, too.” You break his train of thought.

A dry chuckle escapes your lips as you bring your hands up to wipe away your tears, as if you’re forcing yourself to laugh at your problems.

“On the way home?”

You nod and wipe your tears again, soaking the ends of your sleeves.

“My day has just been so awful.” Your voice breaks, making Nolan’s chest squeeze in pain at the sound of it alone.

Without knowing what to say, Nolan wraps one of his arms around you and pulls you in closer. The feeling that comes with not having you hug him back right away is strange. It almost makes him feel heartbroken.

As your face rests over Nolan’s shirt, it’s like your body just gives it all out. You start crying again, sobbing as you let all your worries out, mumbling some stuff you’re not even sure what they mean. And Nolan just holds you close, resting his head against yours while laying kisses over your cheek, neck or over your hair.

It’s so hard to see you like this. It has happened before, it has, but it’s never this bad. Which doesn’t make it that easy to deal with.

Your sobs stop after some time, your breathing slows down back to normal and your body stops to shake. Nolan still holds you, comfortably smoothing your back with one of his hands over your sweatshirt.

You, finally, wrap one of your arms around his torso and just rest your body against his a little, while in complete silence.

“When’s your next test?” Nolan asks against the skin of your temple.

“In 4 weeks.” You answer.

“Any assignments between today and that test?” He asks and you shake your head, “Okay, so you have more than enough time to get prepared and do amazing on that test.”

A sudden warm, giddy feeling runs through you at his words, yet you only nod at what he says.

“I wish I could help you study, but I’m clueless with half of the words in your notes.” He jokes and your lips curve into a grin, “I can always be your reminder to go back to studying?”

“You’re going on a roadie next week.”

He shrugs.

“I can still call.”

You smile and lean your face back onto his chest.

“What about that fall? Are you okay?” He asks, lifting his head again to take a look at your face.

“I’m okay, now, yeah. It was just really embarrassing,” You answer back.

There’s a quick silence and you lift your chin to stare up at Nolan.

“Did something else happen?” He asks, just to make sure.

You do a quick shrug.

“No- I mean,” You correct yourself, “I did check my Instagram after getting home...”

“And... what happened?”

“Just- The usual stupid comments.” You whisper at him.

He analyzes your face for a few seconds and brings his hand up, wiping with his thumb the rest of the tears under your eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t have looked at them,” You scold yourself, “But I didn’t exactly do it on purpose. They were just... there, when I wanted to look back at some pictures.”

Nolan nods understandingly and rests his hand against your cheek, cupping it as his thumb caresses your skin continuously.

“What type of pictures?”

“Like, with our friends or just the two of us,” You shrug, again, “I was just looking for something to cheer me up, you know?”

He nods at you and a small grin lifts over your lips.

He doesn’t scold you in any way. Doesn’t judge you for being stuck in the middle of the hateful comments that don’t do nothing but bring others down. He sometimes finds himself in those black holes without even realizing, and when they do bring him down, you’re there for him to remind him who he really is. Not letting the comments get to him. He can’t do anything else but the same. Return the favor.

“Do you feel better now?” He says at a low voice, almost in a whisper.

“A bit, yeah.” You nod, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He answers.

In the comfortable silence and under his smoothing and loving touch, you prop yourself up with one arm, so your face is in front of Nolan’s, and you peck his lips. It’s a quick kiss, but one that makes you grin back at him.

“I love you.” You tell him.

“I love you too.”

You kiss again but this time, he holds the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him, making the kiss longer and letting it actually evolve into something more than a peck.

You kiss him back as his lips start to move against yours and your, only vacant, hand find its way to his side, almost as if pulling him in closer to you, even though you’re already glued together.

Nolan pulls back and looks back at you for a second.

“Want to go get lunch and then watch a movie?” He asks and your smile finds itself back on your face.

“I would love that.”

Is this good? I wrote it in between classes, while bored, so I hope it’s not too awful.

*First time writing for Nolan... I just had to do it, okay?*

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick imagines #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick x you #nolan patrick fanfic #nolan patrick fanfiction #nhl imagines #nolan patrick blurb #nolan patrick one shot

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

Text

BP Headcanon / One Shot: Raising A Kid With Lisa

Requested By Anon: Lisa / Reader while they're raising a kid

Quote Requested By @ssamssamu: "I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was… not love at first sight exactly, but- familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you."

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!Reader

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Slight Angst, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: This one's kinda long, guys 😳 I hope you enjoy, though. Thank you for the requests!

PS ~ Your child is female in this

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Dear lord... 🛐🤰

Let's get started

First off: milf

Second off: you'd either come home to find her, your child, and your 5 cats passed out, or chaotically playing with one another

WHEN YOU'RE NEW PARENTS:

If you give birth, she's literally the most supportive wife ever

Getting you any and everything you need, no matter the time of day or night

"Lis?" You ask into the darkness, voice coming out rough as it slips past your sleepy lips. Her soft snoring is cut off in an instant as she wakes up, ready to help.

"I'm here, my love." She yawns, quickly stretching before reaching forward to take your hand into her own.

"Can you get me some ice chips?" You wince, hating to make her trek all the way down the hall when she was comfortable and sleeping so well.

"On it, baby." She stands and brushes her lips against your forehead, reassuring you that she doesn't mind the task.

"Thank you; I love you," you call after her as she walks towards the door. She turns to you just as she reaches it, pressing a kiss to her fingers before holding a finger heart up for you.

"I love you more."

----

"Here you go," she says, helping you sit up in the hospital bed. "I got you a little water with it, just like you like." She raises the cup for you, tilting it so that the cool liquid can slide towards your lips, soothing your dry mouth. The styrofoam squeaks lightly, momentarily accompanying the sound of the beeping monitor that's keeping track of your vitals.

You gently push the cup away after you're satisfied, wrapping your arms around her waist as she puts it on the bedside table. She cuddles you back, kissing the top of your head.

"Thanks again, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you." You mumble against her, still exhausted from all that you went through earlier today. She crouches down beside you, taking your hands within her own as she looks up into your eyes.

"You've made me the happiest woman in the world, Y/N/N; I have you and our cute little baby girl now. I think that's more than a fair trade for getting ice chips at 3 in the morning."

You laugh, leaning forward to rest your forehead against hers.

"We did pretty good, didn't we?" You ask after a moment, gazing over at the clear bin your daughter is laying in, resting peacefully.

"We sure did." Lisa says, feeling tears prick at her eyes. She raises a hand to your cheek, cupping the soft skin as she looks at you tenderly.

If she gives birth, you'd do everything for her as well and take good care of her as she recovers

She'd try to be a bit more independent, though, just because that's how she is

She secretly loves when you surprise her with just what she wanted, but was too shy / stubborn to ask for

You come back into the bedroom with a pint of ice cream and two spoons in hand, clad in one of her oversized shirts.

"I got your favorite," you smile, saddling up next to her on the bed. She sits up with a shy grin, feeling beyond lucky to have someone like you.

"Thank you baby," she says, taking a scoop of the sweet treat as you stick it out to her. She sighs as the flavor coats her tongue, reminding her of all the reasons it's her favorite.

"You know," she starts after a minute, grabbing your attention mid-bite. "You taste even better than this."

She smirks as you nearly choke on the ice cream, coughing a bit as it trails an icy path down your throat.

"Yah, jagi! Are you trying to kill me?"

She doesn't want to feel like a nuisance

You reassure her that she isn't at all, and eventually she listens to you

Lets you help her more and cater to her needs

Repays you in the form of cuddles and millions of sweet kisses

As soon as she can safely take care of herself, she's back to normal (aka, being a crackhead)

If you adopt or have a donor, oh boy

That child is spoiled the moment you lay eyes on it

Raising her as your own

You agree to tell her about her past when she's older, if she wants that

Constant reassurance of your love for her

Telling her how proud you are of her

---

She'd be teaching your kid dance moves before she could even walk

"Lis, baby, she literally just bent her knee."

"I don't know what you're talking about. She was definitely practicing the move I taught her last night."

Almost always making a mess when she feeds her (though that's not entirely Lisa's fault... babies are messy)

Seriously, both of them completely covered in baby food and milk when you walk in

Lisa asking if she can buy a hazmat suit for when it's her time on diaper duty

Pouting when you say no

She decides to wear goggles, gloves, and a face mask instead

Singing softly to your daughter as she rocks her to sleep

Sometimes falling asleep in your rocking chair with your baby in her arms

And you find them and just 🥺

WHEN YOUR DAUGHTER IS A TODDLER & UP:

Visiting Lisa's family and your own when you can

Very wholesome memories being made with them

Food fights

She is 110% down to act silly and do anything your kid wants

You unlock the front door of your shared home, tiredly rubbing your neck after a long day of work. The sound of one of your daughter's favorite movies playing on the living room TV brings a smile to your face, and you quickly set your things on the kitchen table before joining them.

Upon stepping foot into the room, you comically narrow your eyes.

"What are you wearing?" You ask both of them as an amused smile grows on your lips.

Lisa turns to you now, appearing to have been so invested in the movie that she hadn't even heard you come home. You start to wonder if maybe she was the one who wanted to watch the movie all along.

A tin foil hat rests atop her head, matching the adorable, mini-sized version that your daughter is modeling. Lisa's grin widens cutely as she looks you up and down, happy to finally have you back home.

"Here mama, we made one for you, too!" Your daughter says excitedly, giggling as she hops up and runs towards you, cap in hand. You crouch down so she can put it on you, feeling your heart melt at the happy look in her eyes; she's proud of herself, and so are you.

"Thank you baby, it fits just right." You praise, lifting her into your arms as Lisa stands up and approaches you.

"We missed you, lovey." She presses her lips to yours, humming against them when you bring a hand to her hip to pull her even closer. You pull away before you can get too invested and scar your child for life, opting instead to cuddle into the cozy embrace that Lisa offers to the two of you.

The warm material of her sweater brushes against your skin as she brings her arms around both of you, protecting you from the slightly chilly air of the room.

"You know, I still have no idea what the hat's for..." you smirk, feeling your daughter raise her head from where it previously came to rest against your shoulder. She scoffs, sounding offended that you don't know the answer.

"It's to protect us from aliens. Duh," she rolls her eyes, making you and Lisa chuckle. Clearly Jennie has been giving her some sass lessons lately.

"My most sincere apologizes, princess," you bow your head in mock shame, doing your best to conceal your smile.

"Let's go sit back down. I wanna hold my girls," Lisa declares softly, kissing your temple as you go to agree.

The three of you make your way back to the couch, snuggling up close as Lisa presses play.

Very affectionate

Constantly squishing your cheeks and gushing about how cute you are (she does the same thing to your daughter too)

Spoils her (and you) rotten

Matching onesies

Matching outfits, totally coordinated (usually Celine or some other designer brand)

Pillow / blanket forts

"Queen Y/N, requesting entrance." You announce with a smile, hands full of snacks for the three of you as you sit back on your knees in waiting.

From inside, you hear Lisa say, "Your Highness, there's a guest at the door. Would you like to see her?"

Your daughter's faux royal voice almost makes you crack up. "Oh, alright. Open up." She commands, sounding British.

Lisa parts the front two blankets, doing her best to conceal her grin as she locks eyes with you.

"SNACKS!" Your daughter shrieks, completely breaking character.

"No no no! Wait--" She eagerly rushes over to you, knocking you over in the heat of the moment. Your mom skills kick in and allow you to angle the bowls correctly and keep most of the food in, though a few stray pieces of popcorn fall out and land in your hair.

"Oops... sorry mommy," your daughter says, snickering softly.

Lisa leans over you, peering down at where you now lay on your back. She smirks as she picks some of the popcorn out of your hair.

If you're preparing a meal for the three of you, they'd turn on some music and come hang in the kitchen with you

Dance battles everywhere

Lisa doesn't always let your daughter win, either, and it makes your little girl all the more competitive

Taking your daughter to street markets to introduce her to new foods and develop her palate

Betting on what foods she'll like more

Lisa getting sulky when she loses, and never shutting up about it when she wins

PICTURES PICTURES PICTURES

Lisa's always taking pictures of you all to add to your family photo book

More like photo books

Seriously so many pictures. She just can't get enough of how cute her little unit is

Taking trips to local cat cafés to let the gang play

Lisa convincing you to let her get another cat

"Pleaaaase?" She draws the word out, wrapping her arms around your waist. You glance over to where your daughter is surrounded by a sea of fluff balls, almost unable to be seen. She's laughing her head off, filling the room with her cute giggles as the kitties brush against her.

"Just one more. Last one." Lisa says, gathering your attention again.

"You said that last time," you quip.

"I mean it this time."

"I feel like that's a lie..."

"If you let me get this cat, there'll be a reward for you later." She husks the last part out, letting her fingers trail to the back of your neck to rest there. She leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, then your jawline, smiling against your skin when she feels your heart beat a little faster.

"Fine, Lisa. But this is the last one," you point a finger at her, pushing her back slightly.

"Thank you, my love. You won't regret it." She smirks, head held high as she slaps your butt and goes to the crate to pick her cat of choice.

Roadtrips

Sightseeing and exploring

Teaching your daughter how to take good pictures, too

"My little prodigy" - Lisa (🥺🥲)

You and your daughter go to Lisa's performances anytime you're able

Cheering the girls on, fully decked out in BP merch

"BLACKPINK IS THE REVOLUTION!" Your daughter screams, bonking her light stick against her head wildly. From the vantage point of your front row seat, you lock eyes with Lisa before glancing down at the little human with an amused smile. Lisa laughs when she notices her, leaving only the backing track to play for a second. She giggles again and points to you before picking back up with the song, a wide smile on her lips.

The other members look down and laugh, too, clapping for her.

Your baby has too much energy for her own good -- something she definitely got from your wife.

Visiting the girls often

They always love to see both of you

Jennie makes food for her and spoils her with lazy days, Jisoo teaches her how to play video games and be more of a crackhead, and Rosé teaches her to paint and sing (and also speak with an Australian accent)

"Nœř"

They all have a secret handshake with her, different for each member

Which you think is absolutely adorable

They always take such good care of her

Always showing up for her school recitals and performances

When you pack your daughter's lunch, Lisa will usually sneak extra sweets into her bag, thinking you don't notice. You do, but you'd never tell her that. Seeing her think she's actually being sneaky is cute

Your Relationship With Lisa

Playful banter

She still makes time for you

Likes to be connected in some way as often as possible. Holding hands or pinkies, back hugs, kisses, gentle caresses, cuddling, etc. -- anything she can do to constantly remind you of her love.

You both always look forward to date nights

You drop your daughter off so the girls can watch her, or you call a sitter

Lisa takes you wherever you wanna go

Some past places: the park (to stargaze), the roller rink, fancy restaurants, art museums / galleries, couples dance classes (when you want to practice a new style and have an excuse to dance the night away together), or even just the couch

Sometimes both of you are too exhausted to go out, so you opt to stay in instead

Other times she wants to get all fancied up and see how gorgeous you look in your outfit of choice

She loves to show you off

"Damn, baby. How do you get hotter every time I see you?"

You look over at her with an incredulous expression, still clad in your oversized shirt with you hair pulled back.

"I haven't even gotten ready yet..."

"Still sexy," she coos, coming up behind you to give you a hug. You settle back into her arms, sighing softly when she trails soft kisses along your shoulder, towards your neck.

"I have to shower," you inform her, releasing the words gently. Part of you knows you'll be late for your reservation if you let her continue, but you can't find it in yourself to care. You've been aching for her touch lately, both of you caught up with the stressors of life. But she's here now, letting her hands roam to the places she knows they shouldn't be.

"Lis..."

"You know," she pecks the mark she just finished making on your neck, feeling satisfied as it darkens before her eyes, "I'm in need of a shower, too." Her fingertips flirt with the waistband of your panties, dipping underneath the material to caress your skin.

"Didn't you get in a couple hours ago?" You ask, furrowing your brows in genuine curiosity.

She laughs at that, letting her head fall against your shoulder as she stills her movements.

"Y/N, can't you just go along with it? Jeez, let me flirt with you."

Both of you chuckle together now, giggles mixing together as they fill the air of the room.

"Alright, alright. Go ahead."

"You look-- No, you know what? Let's just get in. I'll show you instead."

One of the best showers of your life ;)

You somehow managed to make it to your reservation on time

Lisa had to help you walk, though

Cause, ya know

Wöbbĺý łəğ§

Flirted like crazy at dinner

But was also very romantic

As a plane blinks by in the distance, merely a speck on its journey across the dusky sky, Lisa ponders on what her life would've been like, had she not met you. That lonely looking plane symbolizes what she'd probably be doing right now: flying somewhere for tour or brand deals. Every flash of its lights is like a call out to the universe, searching for something it doesn't yet have. It reminds her of how she felt before she met you -- like something was missing.

"I love you, Y/N/N, so much," she says out of the blue, looking over to you. "I'm lucky to call you mine." She says sincerely, gazing into your eyes with a big smile. You turn her into a lovesick, giddy teenager just by being yourself. One look from you is capable of sending her falling all over again.

Her fingers intertwine with your own, hands resting on the table.

"I'm so proud of us. There's no one I'd rather grow old with." You bring her wrist to your lips, kissing it tenderly. Her heart melts at the action, and she cups your cheek in her palm.

She takes you to the park after dinner, right back to the place you met

It leads to a big sentimental talk about when you fell for one another and realized you were in love

You take a bite of the froyo you got as desert on the way here, looking over to her as she begins explaining.

"I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was… not love at first sight exactly, but- familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you."

She looks so sweet after she says it that you almost melt right then and there. You put the container down on the bench beside you before turning back to her. Curiosity shines in her doe eyes as she waits on your answer.

"Oddly enough, it was the same for me," you start, feeling your cheeks tug up into a smile as the memories come flooding back. "As soon as I made you laugh that first time -- when I saw your face light up after I told that stupid joke -- I knew it was you. I never knew what I was missing until I met you."

She cups your cheek, rubbing the pad of her thumb across it as tears begin to well up in her eyes. Years ago, when both of you happened to be in this very spot at the same time, you had no idea what life had in store for you. She had no idea that when she accidently bumped into a complete stranger, that that person would become her world.

She wouldn't feel complete without you, and neither would you without her. The life you've created has taken sacrifices and courage, but you know you'll always have one another no matter what. She makes the hard days bearable, and the good days unforgettable. She's your reason, just as you're hers.

"I love you--"

Both of you say the phrase at the same time, laughing when you realize it. It's a sweet moment, plucked straight out of a romcom.

She leans forward after a few seconds to kiss your lips, reclaiming them for her own.

Holding hands as you walk through the city

Not wanting the night to end

You stop in a couple other thrift shops and take some pictures together before deciding to go home

You catch up on some movies / Netflix / trashy TV that you've been wanting to watch together, finally having enough time to do so

She holds you close, snuggling up against you and not letting you go

Fights

Of course, they're inevitable

Never fun

You both communicate well, though, so they don't happen too often

But when they do, they usually start over little things, your annoyance only heightened by the stress you're constantly under

It's tough on Lisa, being an idol on top of everything else, and it's tough on you to have to raise your daughter alone sometimes

You don't fight in front of her (your child), and you don't say things to attack each other's character. Sometimes you just get loud because you're frustrated and trying to get the other to understand things from your point of view

You usually take time to cool down and then come back together later, once you've had time to think and reflect

After putting your daughter to bed, Lisa comes to your shared bedroom.

"Y/N/N, baby, I'm sorry. Please open up, I need to see you." She says quietly, resting her forehead against the door. She's beyond disappointed in herself, baffled by the fact she could treat you in such a way.

You look over to it, weighing your options as you toy with your wedding ring out of habit. This was a particularly nasty fight, and you hated every second of it; the anger in her eyes broke your heart.

She hears shuffling from inside, and she stands up straight. When you open the door and lean against it, eyes red and cheeks puffy from crying, her heart sinks. It's not surprising that her words hurt you so much, but knowing that she caused you pain in any way is almost too much to bear.

She purses her lips as she gathers her thoughts, and you momentarily look down to the floor, scuffing your foot to busy yourself.

"I never should've said any of that to you. Work has just been stressing me out lately with the comeback and all, and I took it out on you. I was wrong," she says, fresh tears spilling out of her eyes. She quickly wipes them away, not wanting the moment to be about her. She knows if she breaks down in front of you right now, you'll be forgiving her in an instant and wrapping her in the embrace that she's been in dire need of all evening.

That's exactly why she doesn't give in; now isn't the time to be selfish. She sniffles, willing the tears away as she finds the words she wants to say to you. She has to make things right.

"You're everything I've ever wanted, and I treated you like that? I'm ashamed of myself, Y/N. I'm not asking you to forget about this; I just want you to know how sorry I am."

You let a shaky breath out as you look into her eyes, deciding on what to do. You can tell she's being genuine; her fear of losing you is real, and she's doing everything she can to prove how guilty she feels.

You drop your hand from the knob and step through the threshold of the door, wrapping your arms around her neck. The second you do, her tears finally begin spilling out again. Your hair tickles her nose as she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck, securing her arms around your waist like her life depends on it. You cry together, letting out all of your stress and frustrations while muttering out strained apologies and I love yous.

"I forgive you, Lisa." She sobs a bit harder at that, and you feel her lip tremble. You stay like that until you both calm down, your sniffles fading to hitched breaths every now and then.

"Come on, let's go take a bath."

She decides to take over, wanting to make it up to you. She has you sit down and relax while she lights some candles and fills the tub with your favorite scents and oils

She comes back out into the bedroom to get you as the tub fills up

She carries you back to the bathroom, cradling you lovingly in her arms

You get in and cuddle, massaging the pain and tension away from each others shoulders

Very soft way to end such a stressful day

She reassures you that she'll be better for you and that she never wants to lose you or jeopardize what you have

You believe her, and to this day she's never been like that again

You still argue from time to time, but you both listen more and stop things before they can escalate

When All Is Said & Done

At the end of the day, Lisa always makes sure you know how happy you make her and how much she loves her life with the both of you

Even though things get hard sometimes, you wouldn't want to do it with anyone else

One day, when your daughter is away at school, Lisa and you are snuggled up on the couch, watching some TV

"Y/N/N?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Let's make another baby."

275 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

A World of Our Own Pt.07

Decrepit Old Grump

9/29/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 5,510

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst

A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky is gutted.

He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.

Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.

In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.

Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.

The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.

You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.

Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.

Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.

Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?

The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?

Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.

He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.

With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.

No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?

How much must that be hurting you now?

Idiot.

Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.

He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.

However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.

When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.

You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.

You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?

You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.

How you must not be able to look at him…

The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.

He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.

However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.

He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.

He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.

Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.

That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.

Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?

How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.

You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.

You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.

How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.

“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.

You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?

It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.

You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.

“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.

What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?

He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.

“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.

He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.

“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”

Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.

No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.

You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.

It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.

Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.

“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.

Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.

“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.

“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.

The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.

For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.

Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.

“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.

His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.

“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.

You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.

You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.

You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.

“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.

“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.

“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.

Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”

The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.

He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.

You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.

“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.

“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”

You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.

“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.

“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.

He says nothing.

“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”

There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.

He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.

“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.

“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”

He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.

“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”

You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”

His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.

You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.

He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.

He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.

You nod.

“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.

He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.

You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.

Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.

“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.

“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.

“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”

“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”

You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”

“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.

The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.

The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.

Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.

“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.

You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.

As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.

He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.

“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.

The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.

“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.

You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.

Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.

Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.

Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.

His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.

He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.

It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.

Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.

“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”

He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.

He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.

You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.

The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.

The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.

Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.

He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.

He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.

“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.

“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.

As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.

“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.

“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”

“Let me just finish with this trap.”

“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.

You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.

Ten months.

It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.

You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.

There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.

He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.

You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.

With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.

The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.

You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.

You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.

“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.

“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.

“We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”

He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.

Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.

“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.

“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.

“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”

“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”

Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”

Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.

“We should make plans, just in case.”

“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.

“We need to.”

“Not yet.” He insists.

“Bucky.” You press.

“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”

“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”

“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”

“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.

“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”

“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.

A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.

Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”

Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.

“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.

You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.

A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”

No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…

“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”

“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.

Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.

You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.

Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.

“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.

The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.

Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.

“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.

He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.

“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.

“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”

From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.

“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.

“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.

As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.

“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”

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