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capricorn-writer-kawaii · 1 year ago

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Our Hero Academy

Chapter 2

Prev. Chapter

Pairing: Shota Aizawa x female OC

Genre: Shota Aizawa X female OC fluff, angst, high school romance, friends to lovers

Words: 2k

Summary: 15 years ago, Eraser Head was starting his hero studies with his best friends Hizashi and Oboro. Contrary to what people think, his teenage years in the U.A. were bright and lovely, filled with the laughter of his best friends and his girlfriend's unconditional love. What happened over the years? What changed him into a gloomy sensei?

Extra note: You can totally picture Y/N in the OC female name, it's just that it'd be cute to read Aizawa calling her pet names. 🤍

Chapter 2 - Training together

"But how was it? Tell us every detail! Does she look as hot as always while training or even hotter?"

"Hizashi, cut it out," Aizawa ordered. His friends had not stopped asking how the training with Kaori was.

"This isn't fair, Shota. You worked with her because we helped you; otherwise, you'd continue looking at your shoelaces like a total idiot."

"Thanks for that, Oboro. I'll remember it next time you're floating and screaming for help."

Hizashi let out such a guffaw that everyone in the cafeteria looked at the line and once they discovered who was laughing like that, everything made sense.

"Can we just buy our lunch and go to the rooftop?" Oboro asked while covering his face behind Aizawa. It was one of those super weird cases in which he actually felt embarrassed. "And I'm done with the floating jokes, you, cat boy!"

Aizawa was trying to make his friend stop pulling his shirt when, in the distance, he noticed Kaori eating alone next to a window. “What if we tell her to join us?” Shota's voice made his two friends look at him as if they had misheard. Him inviting someone else? HE proposing that they socialize with someone else? Impossible... Aizawa would never do such a thing.

"Are you high? Did you take anything from Recovery Girl's office?" Oboro asked.

"Whom?" Hizashi looked in all directions without understanding. "Are you okay? I mean, Oboro's here, I'm here. And we're pretty much the only human beings you talk to. Who else are you thinking of?"

"Kao... Hoshino." He said correcting himself immediately.

"Hoshino?!" They both asked so loudly, especially Hizashi, that even Kaori heard them.

“I mean, she's there all alone…" Aizawa looked at the floor with such intensity that had his power had been some kind of laser, he would have scorched the whole place. "You know what? Forget it."

Too late… his last words were only heard by the wind, for Oboro and Hizashi were already inviting the girl to eat with them.

"So, let me get this straight. You can heighten so much the volume of your voice so that you can end up stunning other people." Kaori said paying attention to their introductions while they ate on the rooftop.

"It's not that he can end up doing so, he does it at least twice a week." Oboro clarified while Hizashi laughed.

"When I was born, I cried so loudly that everyone in the room fainted."

"Definitely not something to be proud of, bro."

"Still, you laugh every time he tells that story," Aizawa commented and he did not lie, for Oboro started to roar with laughter, causing a chain reaction in Hizashi and Kaori, it was just impossible to contain the laugh once Oboro started. When they finally managed to control the fit of laughter, Aizawa was already done with his lunch.

"I can generate and manipulate clouds of varying density. So far I'm trying to create bigger ones, but it's kind of complicated and I tend to end up soaking."

"Or floating..." Kaori hadn't intended to mock him; in fact, she was paying a lot of attention to the boy. However, striking a chord in Oboro, not even Aizawa himself could suppress a laugh. "I'm sorry! I didn't want to..."

"Oh, that's fine! Do it now, because when he's the one making jokes, he won't stop." Hizashi said.

Trying to clear his name, Oboro brought his left hand closer to Kaori, and opening his palm, he formed a small cloud that little by little acquired the shape of a doll. While Hizashi praised like a child what Oboro had done, because no matter how many times he did it, the blonde was still surprised, Aizawa glanced at Kaori's beautiful smile before the doll. Shyly, the girl took both hands and placed them on top of the doll. She then manipulated the energy of the small cloud and made it shine with the colors of the rainbow. That simple energy transformation blew the guys' minds.

Just as Aizawa imagined, Kaori, Oboro, and Hizashi clicked immediately and from that day on, the days at the academy became much more tolerable for the two timid heroes.

One afternoon, when classes finished, Hizashi and Oboro were ready to go to the movies and then go to eat. They had invited Kaori; however, she could not join them, so now they were just waiting for Aizawa.

"Shota, hurry up, we're going to be late!" Hizashi said when their friend closed his locker but was still wearing the training uniform.

"There's no time for you to change, let's go, you can do it on the way," Oboro commented.

"I'm not leaving yet, I'm gonna train a little more."

“What? Why? We trained all day! My throat even hurts."

"Sorry guys I can't go."

"Aizawa!" They said at the same time as they watched him leave.

Thus, the young hero went through all the gyms, and he could see several students training. Some of them were practicing with professors, others in groups, and others individually. Yet, he couldn't find what he was looking for. Thinking that he had made a fool of himself and that he should have communicated better, he was about to leave when an idea made him stop. Maybe he was looking wrong...

Entering the forest that surrounded the UA, Aizawa found what he was looking for; or rather, who he was looking for. Kaori trained on her account, she didn't tend to use the gyms at the academy, but no one knew why, until that day.

Aizawa hadn't even gotten very close to her when he felt how the temperature changed. Despite being a beautiful sunny day, the temperature was chilly, and yet, the area around Kaori was burning and at first the boy did not get how she could bear it so stoically. Suddenly, Shota understood what she was doing. Kaori was transporting heat waves through airflows so that she could ignite several logs scattered around the river. One by one she burned them in this way until she only had one left, the largest of all. Aizawa could tell she was having a hard time handling so much heat, she had already started to sweat and was slightly wincing.

"If she keeps going like this, she'll burn her hands." Thought the boy.

Suddenly, Aizawa discovered that the girl couldn't stop, the amount of energy she was trying to control was higher than her body could resist. He knew he didn't have consent, and that she might resent using his quirk on her, but he needed to do it. Then, the black of his eyes' iris disappeared, giving way to a scarlet red tone. Aizawa had activated his quirk, and at the same time as his eyes burned, Kaori lost her power. Desperately seeking to ease her pain, the girl plunged her hands into the water and Aizawa could hear a moan.

The heat had already disappeared, he could already approach her. "Are you okay?"

“Shota, it was you… you stopped it.”

"Sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but it looked like you were in pain."

"You don't have to apologize, thank you." She said with a kind smile, but with glassy eyes. She wasn't going to let a single tear fall, but still, the burning in her hands was terrible.

"Shouldn't you go to the infirmary? Recovery Girl can help you.”

"It's not necessary. It doesn't hurt that much."

Aizawa knew it wasn't true, Kaori's palms were burning red; still, from what he knew of her, he was certain that she would ignore her pain and continue training. "Why didn't you stop?"

"It was my fault, I got distracted and tried to control more energy than I could. Besides, I suck when it comes to controlling heat."

"You could've transformed it, it was solar energy, you could convert it into electricity."

“I try to avoid electricity.” She said lowering her face, it was evident that she was not going to talk about it. "You seem to know a bit about the subject, huh?"

"If we're going to train together, I must understand what you do." He responded by lifting his shoulders; however, his comment did not go unnoticed by the girl, who experienced a new sensation in her stomach. “I looked for you in the gyms, but I remembered that you once mentioned that you like to train outside.”

Kaori nodded and couldn't help but smile at the memory of her old home. “I grew up in the countryside, and even though my house isn’t big, there are big mountains and rivers around it, I got used to training like this. I feel a bit suffocated in closed gyms.”

“I imagine wind and water energies are the ones you manipulate best.”

“Those are the first ones I learned to transform, but sound energy's my favorite. My little brother loves it when I used the vibrations to make the earth around him shake. He has this sweet giggling... it's very cute to hear." For a moment, longing tinged her gaze, but then she looked down at her hands and sighed. "Now, heat and electricity... different stories."

A few moments passed and Kaori took her hands out of the water. "That's enough, are you ready to start, Shota?"

Before nodding, he threw another glance at her hands, opened his backpack and taking out some bandages. "At least protect them a bit."

After a sincere thank you, the young girl tried to put the bandages on her hands, but no matter how strong she tried to be, the heat did not allow her to do so.

Somewhat embarrassed by her ache, Kaori tittered. “I think I can try it later.”

Without a single word, Aizawa did it by himself. The boy took care of Kaori's hands with such delicacy that she did not feel anything. Or probably it was because she was lost in him that she did not notice when he finished.

"I think that'll do it."

"You're done? You're better than Recovery Girl, Shota!"

“You get used to it when you grew up with two guys who get hurt every day.” Even though Kaori laughed, Aizawa remained serious, apparently, it wasn't that easy to make him laugh.

Taking Kaori at her word, Aizawa began to train with her. At first, it was just the two of them, but soon the other two joined them. Anyone would think that due to their personalities, training sessions were nothing more than prolonged breaks, but that couldn't be further from the truth. When it came to practice, it was serious.

In addition, their group movements were perfect considering that Hizashi used sound waves to attack and Oboro used the wind to control his clouds. It was wonderful to Kaori that her friends precisely used the types of energy that she could best control, and if things got messy, Aizawa quickly sorted it out.

The group complemented each other perfectly because while Hizashi and Oboro kept their motivation to the maximum, Kaori did not let them give up, her dedication sometimes left her friends with their mouths open and on the verge of dying of fatigue. Regarding Aizawa, he was key, since he was the one who analyzed how his friends fought, how they used their powers, and which their weak points were. Little by little, he felt more useful and strove hard to train his power. What Hizashi and Oboro hadn't attained in years no matter how hard they tried, Kaori was achieving it. The girl was making Aizawa begin to realize how powerful he could be. It would be a lie to say that he felt confident or sure of himself, but he was starting to do it.

As for the dynamic between the four of them, this was quite curious, for although Kaori was aware of how capable she was, once the training was over, she was quite introverted. In fact, the more time the boys spent with her, the more they realized how similar she could be to Aizawa, except that she wasn't as quiet.

Meanwhile, all the words that did not come out from Kaori and Shota’s mouths, Hizashi, and Oboro said them; however, those weird cases in which Aizawa and Kaori made jokes could bring their friends to tears from laughing so hard. To tell the truth, Aizawa and Kaori's humor was very similar, they were funny without even meaning to. Also, although the girl sometimes inhibited herself when Aizawa was close, she was the one who teased him the most. It was curious and funny for Hizashi and Oboro to notice that although Aizawa made her nervous, he was the one she trusted the most. And without even meaning to, or without him noticing, Kaori was also gaining the boy's trust and affection.

Next chapter

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the-gayest-show · 10 months ago

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Thoughts on the Hazbin Hotel series so far? Episodes 1 - 3 were fine, but 4 - 6, goddamn. Great character dynamics, compelling themes, and music that BANGS harder than Disney can deliver atm. I’m so happy this show is approaching greatness cause Viv is talented when she wants to be.

I've kept this ask in the back burner until I've watched all of the episodes from 1-6, so I have done so and here are my takes!!!

This show is great! Really great! Some of the songs have made it in my head and remained there to this day (I'm looking at you, Stayed Gone), and ngl the 1-3 episodes had great character dynamics from the start, though I feel genuinely like there shoulda been a much better intro to HH in e1. It feels like you just spawned in this world and are expected to know everything. I guess it's made with the pilot in mind but that should be clarified at least.

Episodes 4-6 omfg.

Episode 4 was great, loved the insight into Angel Dust, though I'm not as severely attached to him but it was great regardless. Good shit! The song was pretty good.

Episode 5... what to say about it... I FUCKING LOVED IT OMFG HBISABIEBIBVBWVICSJBEBVWIFOI I don't know why but lucifer is in my brain. he is in my soul. i cried at More Than Anything, I am in the process of making a lucifer video comp because of him. The blorbo ever. Instantly fits all the slots to the "silly traumatized men" category of characters that I love so much. The deisgn, his silliness. His voice. Unmatched. I AM NOT NORMAL ABOUT HIM AND HIS ARC YOU SEE!!!! I CANT CONTAIN THE SILLY BECAUSE HE IS SILLY!!! HE FUCKIN ROCKS! I LOVE THE SILLY FALLEN ANGEL!!!

worst part is i can now (more tragically [not]) compare the show to Good Omens and DO. YOU. UNDER. STAND!!!! LUCIFER JUST LIKE CROWLEY FR!!!! I LOVE ME SILLY MEN WITH TRAUMA!! FALLEN ANGEL!!!! *screams*

BRO MAKES DUCKS!!!!! CROWLEY AND DUCKS!!!! BOTH OF THEM WITH DUCKS AHHHHHHHH!!!! LUCIFER IS CANONICALLY DEPRESSED AND MAKES THE SILLIEST JOKES EVER!!! HE'S SO SILLY JUST LIKE ME FRRRRRRRRRRR

episode 6 was great it was pretty good and nice reveal and "you didn't know" goes hard with the "if hell is forever than heaven must be a lie" lyric.

yeah uh that's what i got for now!

#posts #asks #hazbin hotel #TL:DR: I developed a fixation on lucifer moringstar and i NEED bros lore ASAP #*grabs you* HELP. ME.

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misshoneyimhomeagain · 6 months ago

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Chapter 8 –

Summary; Pablo and Banksy are once again pulling the strings in the intricate dance between Julia and William – those mischievous little matchmakers. But that's not all; the team's captain decides it's high time for all the players to channel their inner gentlemen and find themselves a date for the upcoming charity event.

Tags; William NylanderxOfc, soft!William; “We never go out of style”

Warnings; there might be a rollercoaster of emotions ahead; and a fleeting mention of death (briefly);

A/N; Brace yourself for pure fluff; And, oh, if you happen to be a tall, fit sales assistant, please don't take offence – you're surely a wonderful person! This story also features a delightful blend of languages, adding a special connection between our two Scandinavians; and while we may not be at the grand finale just yet, consider this a tantalising step towards the torturous delight of an ongoing slow burn; So, sit back, relax, and let the enchantment begin! 😉

Words: 5.8K

“We're drivin' down the road; I wonder if you know”

Monday 21st - TOR 2 - NYI 3 (OT)

On a fateful Monday, the Toronto Maple Leafs faced off against the New York Islanders in a match that had the arena filled with excitement, and fans found themselves on the edge of their seats, as regular time had ended in a solid 2-2 draw, providing both teams the opportunity to go for the win as the overtime commenced. However, no one could stand against Beauvillier’s wrist shot after just two minutes, and the match ultimately ended in disappointment as the Islanders managed to score in overtime, securing a 3-2 victory over the Leafs.

But, despite the loss, following the game, Julia found herself engaging in some light-hearted banter with Charlie, the significant others, and the players, where Auston couldn't resist offering Charlie a cheeky remark or two.

“Now, please don't do anything stupid while we're on the road," he teased with a light chuckle, his gaze focused on the tall lady by his side. The team was about to go on a week-long road trip, and Auston tried his best to conceal his deep fear of missing Charlie too much with a joke.

"Aus, I'm just getting a tattoo - no big deal, your arm is literally covered in them," Charlie retorted, always quick with a witty reply. Her playful smile drew a soft grin from Auston before he then turned his attention to Julia, curiosity getting the better of him.

"How about you, JJ? You're getting one as well, or are you too afraid of needles?"

And as Julia found herself in the spotlight, she was about to fire back with a reply, but then William turned out to think a little faster and chimed in, revealing a slightly surprising fact about her. "JJ's already got a tattoo, a rather big one actually, on her thigh."

A comment that caused the room to fall into a hushed silence, and Julia's eyes widened in bafflement. She wasn't exactly expecting for William to tell this so casually. Not that she was ashamed of it - not at all, she was simply caught off guard, especially since no one really knew that William had seen her without clothes on.

"And how do you know about the tattoo on her thigh, Willy?" Charlie inquired, with a mischievous smirk, deciding to dig a little deeper into the very friendship everyone had their suspicions about.

Julia and William exchanged a quick, silent conversation through their eyes, both contemplating how to handle the situation. And then Julia decided to take the initiative, offering a friendly smile as she spoke, "He saw it the other day when he spent the night at my place."

Which wasn't exactly a lie. William had noticed her tattoo in the morning when she’d just been wearing a t-shirt. They didn’t need to know he’d seen it before and had placed kisses very close by.

"Wait, Willy spent the night at your place?" Auston then asked, unable to contain his curiosity, raising an eyebrow.

And William, with his characteristic calm demeanour, clarified, "We just slept on the bed - next to each other," he chuckled, attempting to defuse any potential awkwardness, which seemed to work.

All while Julia couldn’t avoid the glances from Charlie, who was giving her a flirty look, and Julia simply rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, shut it - I've told you already," she said, her response filled with a mix of amusement and exasperation. The playful banter then continued, for a little while before the group started to part ways.

Just before everyone was preparing to leave, the atmosphere was still buzzing with the afterglow of their banter. William turned to Julia, his tall figure exuding a mix of gratitude and concern, as he handed her a spare key for his condo. "You know where the dog food is, right?” He inquired, his voice was laced with affection.

"Yes, Willy, I know where the dog food is." Julia's response was accompanied by a warm smile that reassured him. She had not only spent countless hours with William's dogs but had also familiarised herself with the layout of his condo, as he had taken the time to meticulously map out where everything she might need was placed, a testament to the trust he had in her.

William's concern still lingered, and he felt compelled to express it further. "And remember…" he began, but Julia, with her reassuring tone, interrupted him.

"Willy, I've got this – I’m not a complete idiot, you know." Her smile remained genuine, and it had the magical effect of easing his worries.

"I know... it's just – they mean so much to me," he confessed, his voice softening as he spoke. Julia responded with a comforting gesture, placing her hand gently on his arm, and her eyes conveyed a deep understanding of the significance of his furry companions in his life.

"I know, Willy," she reassured him, her tone gentle. “I promise, I’ll take good care of them."

And just then, their conversation took on a playful note as William couldn't resist injecting a teasing remark. "Just, please don't make them love you more than me," he joked, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

Julia met his playful banter with a grin of her own, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "Oh, I can't promise you that – we both know that Pablo loves me the most already."

"Unfortunately, I think you're right," he chuckled, the fondness he felt for his little friends evident in his words. With a final exchange of smiles that carried a mix of trust, affection, and lightheartedness, they parted ways for the evening, both confident that Julia would take excellent care of the dogs in his absence.

While the team was away on their road trip, Julia remained true to her promise and ensured that Pablo and Banksy received excellent care. Amidst her work commitments, she dedicated a substantial portion of her day to their well-being, with daily visits including extended playtime, long walks, and even the occasional run with her fluffy companions. There were also ample moments of relaxation and cuddling on the sofa, especially while watching the hockey matches on William's large telly.

Julia understood the immense love William held for his dogs, and she found it incredibly endearing, so he made it a point to keep him updated on their activities every single day.

Over the past couple of weeks, their mode of communication had evolved, shifting from solely relying on Instagram and Snapchat to texting and calling, which proved more convenient. They still shared Reels and posts on social media, but this expanded connection allowed for more personal exchanges.

On Tuesday, she sent him pictures of their refreshing run and a quick visit to the dog park, capturing moments of their joyful activities.

Wednesday brought a FaceTime session following the match, during which Julia lounged on William's sofa, allowing him to virtually greet and interact with his beloved dogs.

Thursday saw another round of pictures, this time featuring their leisurely stroll through the neighbourhood, with Julia ensuring William was included in their daily adventures.

Julia also seized the opportunity to create an adorable Instagram post, highlighting her delightful moments with the doodles, and her post garnered likes and comments not only from some of the players but also from William's devoted fans, who admired her dedication to his furry family members.

Friday 25th – MIN 3 – TOR 4

Friday night took an emotional turn, when the Toronto Maple Leafs received devastating news just before their match against the Minnesota Wild - the legendary Börje Salming had passed away. This somber moment cast a shadow over the entire team, filling them with a profound sense of loss and sadness. And for William, it was particularly heartbreaking and his chest ached with overpowering emotions. So in honour of Salming, the team observed a minute of silence, and the Swedish players on the roster gathered together for a few minutes, sharing their love and support through heartfelt pats on the back and comforting hugs.

Meanwhile, Julia watched the game from William's condo, accompanied by the dogs, and she too felt the weight of the loss. The entire arena in Minnesota paid tribute to the Swedish legend with a minute of silence, an emotionally charged moment that once again showcased how hockey has the power to unite fans worldwide.

However, despite the emotional start, the game itself unfolded beautifully, with the Leafs managing to secure a hard-fought 4-3 victory.

Following the match, the players took their time to wrap up, engaging in conversations that transcended the boundaries of the game. They shared stories and impressions of various hockey legends, both national and international, who had left an indelible mark on their lives. Childhood memories of role models and sources of inspiration were exchanged, painting a vivid picture of how these players had been motivated to pursue their dreams of becoming professional hockey players.

But as the conversations evolved, they changed up a bit and the players turned their attention to the upcoming tenth Annual Benefit for Underprivileged Children – Christmas Gala, where the team's captain, John Tavares, led the discussion. "So, we all agree?" he inquired, with a loud, firm voice.

"Yes, Captain!" came the resounding response from the team, their voices filled with enthusiasm and camaraderie.

Then, Nicholas Robertson, known for his curiosity and sense of humour, couldn't resist raising a question that had been on his mind. "Wait, so everyone needs to have dates?"

Tavares, with a wry smile, nodded in agreement. "Yes, everyone, Roberts. Even you," he teased, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The room erupted in laughter at Nicholas's expense, but he remained undeterred, taking a moment to tighten his shoelaces with determined resolve. "I can get a date," he muttered, emphasising his determination.

Auston, always quick with a cheeky smirk and a playful comment, turned his attention to William, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "So, Willy, who are you bringing?"

William pondered the question for a moment, his mind drifting through potential options. "Hm, I don't know - haven’t really thought about it," he admitted with a casual shrug.

Rasmus, the ever-charming team member, couldn't resist adding his own flair to the conversation, a giant smirk gracing his handsome face. "I can hook you up with someone," he offered, his tone dripping with playful suggestion.

William raised an eyebrow playfully, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "Shouldn't you be focusing on getting a date for yourself first?"

Sandin, undeterred by the playful banter, responded with a sly wink. "Oh, I've already got a date," he declared, his smirk never fading.

Auston's curiosity got the best of him, and he leaned in with intrigue. "What, who?"

Sandin maintained an air of mystery, answering cryptically, "A pretty blonde."

Auston couldn't help but laugh heartily at his teammate's response before turning his attention back to William. "What about JJ?"

William furrowed his brows in thought, contemplating the idea of inviting Julia as his date. A mix of nerves and excitement coursed through him. "It wouldn't be weird?" he asked tentatively, seeking reassurance from his teammates.

But Auston, with a reassuring smile, shook his head. "Not at all, Willy. Just ask her – you know you want to," he encouraged, his voice filled with warmth and slight teasing. The room was alive with the laughter and banter of their teammates, creating a sense of unity and friendship that extended beyond the hockey rink.

Later in the evening, as the players settled into their respective hotel rooms, William found himself scrolling through his social media feed, and a warm smile graced his face when he came across Julia's Instagram story, featuring her walking and playing with his beloved dogs. He also noticed her post about taking them out to the dog park despite the cold, almost snowy weather, and it warmed his heart to see how well she was taking care of his furry companions in his absence.

Meanwhile, Julia had just arrived back at her flat when her phone buzzed with a text from William.

Wonka: Hey, you up? 😊

JJ: Yup, just got home 😉

Wonka: Can I call you?

JJ: Of course 😊

Unintentionally, a smile played on her lips as she saw "Wonka calling" on her phone's display, and she eagerly accepted the call.

"Hey," she greeted, settling on her bed.

"Hey," William's soft voice came through from his hotel room.

"I'm sorry about Börje," Julia began, her voice filled with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm actually okay, but thanks," William replied, his voice equally soft. Talking to Julia always had a way of making him feel better.

"You want to talk about tonight?" she inquired, her tone warm and inviting.

"Not really," William admitted with a hint of reluctance.

"Well, in that case, let's change the topic; maybe something that can make you smile," Julia said playfully. "I think your dogs miss you."

A giant grin spread across William’s face. "I miss them too."

"Is that a smile I can hear?" she teased.

"Yeah," he chuckled softly, feeling grateful for her comforting words.

There was a brief pause in their conversation before William spoke again.

"JJ, can I ask you something?" His voice sounded a bit nervous, though he maintained his characteristic cool.

"Sure," her curiosity piqued.

"Do you want to be my date for the charity event next week?" William's words almost spilled out in a rush, topped with a cheeky laugh. "I mean, just as friends, of course."

"Oh..."

"It's okay, you don't have to if it's too weird," he quickly reassured her.

Julia, however, was simply smiling on her end. "Willy, I'd love to," she chuckled. "I just didn't expect you to ask me."

"Well, we've sort of agreed that everyone is bringing a date, so I just thought of you," he explained with a soft chuckle.

"Well, I'm flattered, and I'd love to go with you."

Both of them were simply lying on their beds, smiling.

"Good… that's good," William said, his voice filled with relief.

"Shit..." Julia suddenly exclaimed, sitting up on her bed.

"What?"

"What should I do with my hair? And my dress… I don't have a dress!" She sounded a bit panicked, and William couldn't help but chuckle at her sudden exclamation.

"I can take you shopping, JJ."

"Honestly… I think you'd have to," she replied with a nervous laugh. "Otherwise, I don't think you'd want to bring me."

"I'm sure you'd look beautiful in anything," he spoke softly, his words carrying a genuine warmth that made Julia's heart flutter. And once again, there was a brief moment of silence between them. Julia felt flattered by his compliment, and she could feel herself blushing, silently grateful that they weren't having this conversation face to face.

"Anyways," William broke the silence once more, "I should probably go to sleep."

Julia agreed, and they bid each other goodnight before hanging up, both their hearts filled with excitement and happiness, despite the miles that separated them, as they looked forward to the upcoming event.

“Har aldrig dansat med en stor man, en stor man som dig”

Over the weekend, the Leafs continued their road trip with two impressive wins under their belt.

On Saturday, some of the ladies, including Julia and Charlie, gathered at Stephanie and Mitch's condo to watch the match, which was a special occasion for Charlie as she proudly showed off her new tattoo. It wasn't a massive piece, just a dainty arrow and a few flowers, but it held sentimental value as her first ink, and Julia cherished sharing this moment with her close friend.

All the significant others were dressed in their jerseys and enthusiastically cheered for the guys as they secured a solid victory against the Pittsburgh Penguins, and naturally, the conversation also circled around the upcoming charity event. Most of the ladies had already planned their outfits, and Julia casually mentioned that she would be going dress shopping with William one of these days.

"Ah, I should've guessed you'd be going with him. We could've shopped together," Charlie exclaimed.

"Well, he did just ask me yesterday, babe," Julia chuckled. "But don't worry, we'll just have to plan a shopping trip another time, just you and me," she reassured her friend, and Charlie agreed. "Anyway, I should probably get going. I need to swing by William's," she said, before bidding farewell to the girls.

To Julia’s benefit, William had been exceptionally generous, offering her the use of his car. Normally, he wouldn't just let anyone drive it, but with his Cadillac at the airport, his Volvo was available, and he thought it was the least he could do since Julia was looking after his dogs.

Not that she was complaining. She was more than happy to take care of Pablo and Banksy, and having the convenience of borrowing his car for a week instead of relying on public transportation just made everything a lot easier.

On the following Tuesday, the team had returned to Toronto, and William had set aside the entire day to spend with Julia. So she had decided to take a half-day off from work and headed straight downtown to meet up with him. Even though, Julia had become quite acquainted with the city's prime shopping spots, she was more than willing to go along with whatever plans he had in store for them.

And let's just say, William didn't skimp on this outing.

He had definitely chosen high-end boutiques for their shopping adventure, each one more upscale than the last, and while Julia appreciated the glamorous attention she received from her friend and the impeccable service in these luxurious shops, she couldn't help but feel a bit out of place. The shop assistants, elegant and statuesque, were polite but couldn't conceal their interest in William, which was clearly solely focused on him.

In one particularly posh boutique, a shop assistant offered Julia a glass of champagne with an overly sweet tone, which Julia accepted it with a warm smile, downing it in one go to ease her nerves.

"Should we be matching or something?" She suddenly asked, glancing at William, who was meticulously examining the numerous dress options.

But he simply chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the dresses. "Let's concentrate on finding you a dress first, then I'll hunt for a matching suit." Making Julia smile. "What do you think of this one?" William then proposed, offering Julia a warm smile as he presented a long, golden, and glittering dress with delicate spaghetti straps.

But she shook her head, flashing a soft smile. “Not quite my taste.”

But then finally, they came across a dress that caught Julia's eye – a dark blue dress with small sleeves and a slit up the right side, making her face lit up with delight. "Yes, that's more like it."

Heading towards the dressing rooms, Julia prepared to try on the dress, and as she hung it up and was about to remove her shirt when she saw William closing the door from the inside.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, with her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.

But William played innocent. "What?"

"Willy, I'm not changing with you in here,” she said, earning a simple chuckle from Swede, as he settled down on a pouffe in the corner.

"Why not?" he teased. "Come on, JJ, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Julia let out a sigh. "This is different,” she remarked, but realised she might not win this argument.

"JJ, I've had my head between your legs – I think it's okay for me to see you in underwear," he said with a confident smirk, making her slightly blush.

Perhaps he was right. He had seen her most private parts, when he was skilfully working his mouth in her downstairs area.

After a playful exchange, Julia eventually gave in to William's request, her lips curving into a fond, defeated smile, as she began to undress, her movements graceful and unhurried. As she carefully slid the dress over her shoulders and began to step into it, she couldn't resist sneaking a quick glance at William through the dressing room mirror.

"Zip me, please?" she requested softly, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. William, ever the gentleman, nodded in response, and as he rose from his seat, his eyes focused on her with a mix of admiration and consideration.

Julia gathered her long hair to one side, exposing the elegant line of her back, and with a gentle touch, William approached her, his fingers deftly finding the zipper. The cool, metallic touch of the zipper against her warm skin sent a shiver down her spine, but it was a pleasant sensation, and as he slowly and carefully pulled the zipper up, inch by inch, the dress hugged her curves, accentuating her figure.

In the dressing room, it felt as if time itself had paused, allowing Julia and William to share an intimate connection that transcended words. Their eyes met in the mirror, and in that moment, they understood that this was more than just zipping up a dress; it was a moment of trust and closeness, a reaffirmation of the bond they shared.

For a brief, suspended moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. The dressing room was their private sanctuary, and the connection between them crackled like electricity. Julia's heart raced as she felt the weight of William's gaze, his hands on her shoulders, and her breaths became heavy, as she couldn't help but be aware of the magnetic pull between them.

The soft background music in the room only intensified the feeling of intimacy that enveloped them.

William, too, was acutely aware of the charged atmosphere. His mind battled with conflicting thoughts as his body responded to the irresistible allure of the woman before him. The cheeky comment he had made just moments ago reminded him of the passionate moments they had shared together, and those memories ignited a small fire within him.

But their silent reverie was abruptly shattered by a voice from outside the dressing room, inquiring if everything was alright, making both Julia and William blink, as if waking from a dream, and the spell they had woven together was momentarily broken.

"Shoes," Julia said, her voice steady as she sought to divert their attention. "I need a pair of heels to go with this dress." It was a practical statement, a way to bring them back to the present moment and away from the intensity of their shared connection.

William nodded and left to fetch a matching pair of heels with the help of one of the store's attendants. Julia, left alone in the dressing room, let out a deep breath. Her heart was still racing, and she couldn't help but wonder about the sensations coursing through her body.

"What’s the matter with me," she mumbled to herself, acknowledging the undeniable pleasure she had felt from being so close to William.

And just a few minutes later, he returned with a pair of gold heels, and Julia chuckled, noticing his colour choice.

"You really like the gold, huh?" she teased.

"Well, blue and yellow or blue and gold – it's sort of the Swedish colours, right" he explained with a soft smirk, making Julia laugh.

"Oh, fuck off," she jokingly responded, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth at the thought of wearing colours that resembled his home country.

And it was indeed perfect; they both took a moment to appreciate how the dress looked on Julia as they stood before the mirror, occasionally sharing glances.

"Guess we found the dress, then," Julia remarked, her smile directed at William, who simply nodded and returned her smile. “Though the heels are a bit too much,” she added with a chuckle. “But I think I’ve got a nice pair at home that’d go well with the dress.”

Following changing back into her own clothes, they headed towards the register to make the purchase, and Julia reached for her wallet, but before she could do anything further, William intervened. "This is on me," he insisted, flashing a cheeky smile.

"Willy, I can pay for it myself –" Julia began, but her protest was cut short by his firm voice.

"It's on me, JJ," he repeated, leaving no room for argument, and Julia reluctantly complied, allowing him to pay for the dress while the ladies behind the counter couldn't help but admire him.

Once the transaction was complete, they thanked the saleswomen and exited the store, and as a true gentleman, William gallantly carried the bag as they made their way to his car. However, Julia couldn't help but notice that his mood seemed to have shifted a little. He was unusually quiet, and his smile had faded.

"Dinner at my place?" he suggested, although it didn't sound much like a question to her. So, she simply nodded and took her place in the passenger seat.

As they drove through the dark streets of Toronto, Julia sensed that something might be bothering William. His gaze remained intensely focused on the road, and he didn't engage in much conversation.

So Julia decided to break the silence. "A little music, perhaps?" she asked, and William simply nodded. He trusted her enough to share his phone's password, allowing her to put on some songs from Spotify, and though Julia was slightly surprised by his casual willingness to share his privacy, she didn't dwell on it. She just turned to put on a song to fill the silence.

"Oh, this is gonna be good," she chuckled as she selected "Stor Man" by Tobias Rahim and Victor Leksell, a song that featured a combination of Danish and Swedish.

And her plan seem to work; William couldn't suppress a smile as the song began, and he softly started singing along to the Swedish verse.

Du häller vodka i min Pellegrino Du är varm, yo soy papi frío, mmh-ah Här i staden är jag Tarantino Way Out West och sen utebio, mmh-ah

Then Julia went on and sang the Danish part.

Victor, du rullar op, hvis jeg rister Imens morgenerne bli'r til nætter Alle er blå, blå silhuetter Jeg vil bar' gå endnu længere med dig

And together they sang the Swedish chorus.

Fri till i skandalen ser jag månen bli blockerad av dig Bådrace-champagne som regnar utöver min kropp Tar dig in, tar dig nu, tar dig sommaren ut Här, jag ger dig mitt hjärta i Götet Har aldrig dansat med en stor man En stor man som dig

For the rest of the song, they cheerfully switched between Danish and Swedish lyrics, enjoying the playful language mix and their voices completely out of tune. But most importantly, neither of them could contain their joyfulness, and their laughter filled the car.

As the song came to an end, William turned to Julia with a playful smile. "Now I know why you don’t speak Swedish," he chuckled. "You suck at it."

Making Julia laugh wholeheartedly. "Yeah... Yeah, I do," she admitted, her eyes sparkling with mirth as they continued their journey through the city.

And before heading to William's place, they made a quick pit stop at Sugo's, likely to grab some delicious food for their evening together.

“When a man loves a woman, he can't keep his mind on nothin' else”

As they arrived at William's condo, the enthusiastic greetings from Banksy and Pablo were impossible to miss. The two dogs were overjoyed to see Julia, their tails wagging furiously, but then their attention quickly shifted to William, who they couldn't help but adore.

And Julia couldn't resist a playful remark as she observed the dogs' behaviour. "Told you I wouldn't make them love me more than you," she quipped, making her way to the living room.

William chuckled and followed her into the room, before grabbing some plates from the kitchen, and they settled down by the coffee table to enjoy the food.

"Thank you for today," Julia said sincerely, a warm smile gracing her face. "And thank you for the dress - it was really sweet of you."

William returned her smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "No problem. The least I could do to thank you for going as my date. Besides, I had a good time," he replied, giving her a cheeky wink.

And then Julia couldn't help but smile. "Well, I'm sure those sales assistants had a great time as well, enjoying a little eye candy," she teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

William couldn't contain his laughter. "Are you jealous, JJ?" he teased.

"Am not!" Julia defended herself. "I'm just surprised that they weren't even trying to conceal their pure lust for you," she explained with a grin. “They were practically drooling by the mere sight of you.”

"Well, can you blame them? I mean, look at me," William continued to play along, making Julia rolled her eyes with a playful smirk.

"Oh, fuck off! Get down from your high horse, will ya?" she bantered back at him, before a short moment of calm settled between them.

William then flashed her a charming smile. "Well, then the next step is to make an appointment for your hair," he suggested, trying to shift the topic.

"No, no," Julia insisted. "I'll figure something out."

"JJ, let me—"

"No, Willy. Please, just let me have this one," she requested, her voice soft and earnest.

And William knew Julia well enough by now not to push her further He understood that she wanted to have something to say in aspects of their upcoming event, and he respected her wishes, letting it go.

They enjoyed their meal sharing a few laughs and looks, while the only noise in the room was coming from the telly running an episode of a TV show.

"Shit, it was good," Julia remarked as she finished her food.

And William nodded in agreement, both of them leaning back on the sofa. "It really was."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Julia turned to William, her eyes filled with anticipation.

"So, are you ready for the gala?" she inquired, a soft smile gracing her lips.

"Yes, I think so.” he returned her smile, though slightly puzzled. "Or what do you mean?"

Julia couldn't help but smile before telling him about the various aspects of a gala. "Well, you know, the suit, the media attention, the donations – oh, and the dancing," she chuckled.

"Dancing? What dancing?" William asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Well, you know, when you have to dance with all the wealthy ladies to make them donate more,” she playfully explained, making his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I am not dancing with any rich ladies."

"Why not?" Julia laughed. "Have you never been to a charity event before? It really does the trick when young lads like yourself take the ladies out for a close dance." William hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then Julia rose from the sofa. "Well, come on, I'll show you," she said, offering a soft smile, and gesturing for him to get up.

At first, he shook his head, but she was persistent. "William Andrew Michael Junior Nylander Altelius, please, come and dance with me?" she asked softly, yet determined, and William couldn't resist her charm, so he got up as Julia went to put on a song for them.

"How do you know my full name?" he jokingly asked, earning a simple chuckle from Julia.

"Guess I've learned it for situations like this. Now get over here, big boy."

And with that, "When a Man Loves a Woman" by Percy Sledge started to play through the speakers. Julia gently took William’s hand in hers, placed the other on his shoulder, and he reciprocated by placing his hand on her waist. And then they began to sway from side to side, moving slowly to the music.

"It's a nice song," William commented softly making Julia offer him a gentle smile.

“It’s actually the song my father played for my mum the night that they met,” she softly explained, before she made a move to stretch their arms and separate, spun around, before William pulled her back in. They then swayed a little more before the chorus played and this time William separated them again, made her swirl under his arm, and then pulled her back in.

“You’re getting quite the hang of it,” she added, and he simply nodded, returning a cheeky smile.

They danced through the moves a few times, getting lost in the music and the pure happiness of being together. And then when the song finally faded out, they stood close in the middle of William's living room, surrounded by a blend of emotions - intimacy and comfort intertwined.

It was almost like that moment in the dressing room all over again, where they both felt a whirlwind of emotions inside, but no words were exchanged. They just stood there, gazing at each other, sharing soft smiles that held their unspoken feelings and thoughts.

But then their peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted by the ringing of William's phone, and as they parted ways, he picked up the call, only to find it was his brother, Alex. So, William politely excused himself and retreated to the bedroom for a brief conversation, leaving Julia by herself in the living room.

With a warm smile, Julia took advantage of the moment to clear the table, tidying up after their meal, and as she washed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, her mind wandered to her own deeper feelings. A part of her couldn't help but feel happy and grateful for her friendship, knowing that she and William had just shared a beautiful moment together.

“I should probably get going,” she softly suggested, as William emerged from the bedroom.

“Sure,” he nodded. “Let me drive you.”

“It’s okay- “

“JJ, it wasn’t a question,” William offered a soft smile, and she caved.

The ride was silent, both lost in their thoughts, only occasionally glancing at each other, as they drove through the city. And after a warm goodbye and a quick hug in the car, Julia made her way up to her flat.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, taking a deep breath. "Shit," she mumbled to herself. She couldn't deny the flutter of emotions she felt around William, and she couldn't help but wonder if she perhaps was starting to develop deeper feelings for him. Feelings that could potentially ruin their friendship.

Meanwhile, William was driving through the streets of Toronto, lost in thoughts of his own. His conversation with his brother, Alex, had touched upon Julia, and it had made him reflect on the unusual sensations he had been experiencing around her - the tinge of jealousy, the racing heartbeats, and the sweaty palms. Could it be that he was slowly evolving feelings for Julia?

#archive #we never go out of style

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 2 years ago

Text

Joke’s On You - Part 2

When Fred Weasley carelessly bumps into you into the hallway, you decide to take him a notch down; not by berating him, but by showing him up at his own game of using your charm and intellect to get what you want. And it’s fine if the end result doesn’t leave everyone quite satisfied - in fact, that’s what you want...

[Addition to One-Shot.] [Fred Weasley x Reader.] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Non-Consent.] [Warning: Degradation.] [Warning: Dom/Sub Dynamics.] [Warning: Manipulation.]

Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

“Hey. Hey.”

You sighed. Ignoring Fred’s waving enthusiastically at you, you ducked his hand and made your way into the classroom. Besides you, your friend asked, “Why was Fred Weasley trying to get your attention?”

“No idea,” you said simply, and you sat down in your usual seat.

* * * * * * * * * *

A week later – Fred was at his limits. He couldn’t stop dreaming about you and what had happened that day in the cupboard, but he also couldn’t seem to get you to even glance his way.

Finally, one day, he timed a bunch of fireworks to go off in the corridor that he knew you had to pass through to go from Transfiguration to Potions.

As the students screamed gleefully and Filch fumed, with his useless broom in hand, Fred ducked in and out of the corridor – until he spotted you. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you away from your friends and into a broomstick cupboard, which he immediately shut and locked.

“What in the world - ? Fred Weasley?” you coughed out. Your eyes watered from all of the smoke.

“Here. Press this to your mouth.” Fred gave you a cloth, and you did press it to your mouth. Amazingly, in just a couple of seconds, you felt perfectly fine again.

“Clarifying Charm,” Fred explained succinctly.

“Oh.” Then, your eyes narrowed. “So, you set off those fireworks? Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to talk to you.”

You huffed out impatiently. “And you resorted to fireworks? I told you, I hate your pranks.”

“Well, that’s all well and good, and we can discuss the pros and cons of fireworks versus other types of diversions, but the point is that you wouldn’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” you asked matter-of-factly.

“Huh?” Fred said, confused by your tone.

“You want me to pay attention to you?”

“Well,” Fred said uncertainly, caught off guard by how straightforward you were being. He ended up blurting out the truth, “I – I want you…”

You lifted your eyebrow at him. “Are you sure about that? I’m not very nice, you know.”

“I don’t care,” Fred replied bluntly.

“Fred, I’m serious. I’m not going to change.”

“I don’t want you to change.”

You sighed. “Fine.” Shifting closer to him, you pressed your finger against Fred’s chest. “If you really mean it, if you really want me - ”

“I do,” Fred said hoarsely.

“Then…” Your eyes drifted to the floor. “Lie down.”

Fred hesitated. “Lie down?”

“Yes.” You smirked. “Should I help you get down there?” You put your hands on his shoulders and then slowly made him kneel. Then, you gently put your foot against his chest and then pushed him over, so that he was lying down, with his back against the floor.

You stepped over him, so that your feet were planted one either side of his head.

Fred gulped, as he suddenly was treated to a view of your panties and ass underneath your skirt.

You laughed lightly. “You get excited so easily, huh?”

At this, Fred scowled. “No.”

“Well, all right, then. Let’s see how long you can hold onto that pride for.”

“Pride?” Fred said indignantly. “You’re talking to me about pride?”

At this, you sat down on top of Fred’s chest backwards, and then, looking over your shoulder, you replied easily, “Yep. Got a problem with that?”

As you spoke, you lifted your skirt up and tucked it very neatly into your waistband.

Fred started to fidget, as you took forever to gather up all the stripes of your skirt and tuck them away.

You suddenly brought your legs together a little, so that they were flush against Fred’s shoulders, locking him in. “Stop moving,” you told him impatiently. “It’s making it hard for me to tuck my skirt in.”

What’s the point? When I’m going to rip it off of you, Fred thought to himself hungrily, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually say it, not when you were taking such care to tuck it out of the way.

So, Fred lay there, watching you taking an infuriatingly long time to get ready for whatever the hell you planned to to him.

Afterwards, when you’d finally finished, you didn’t even look back at Fred once when you abruptly leaned forward, giving Fred a perfect view of your ass lifting up.

“Fuck,” Fred breathed out softly, because he noticed that, in fact, you already had a little wet spot in your panties, in that soft little cotton strip that was barely covering up your pussy. He suddenly realized that you controlling him like this, making him wait as you pertly tucked away your skirt, made you wet.

But before Fred could contemplate this happy realization any further, he felt you tugging at his belt. Fred’s eyes widened as you carelessly yanked at his belt and then tossed it aside. Then, you pushed his pants down.

Fred held his breath in anticipation, waiting for your hands to delve into his boxers and wrap around his cock – but instead, you merely patted his cock from outside of his boxers.

“God damn it,” Fred croaked out from behind you. “What the fuck are you holding back for?”

You laughed lightly as you patted his cock again and whispered, “There, there.”

“Seriously, what the hell d’you think you’re doing?” Fred said, suddenly infuriated. He made to sit up, but, anticipating his move, you quickly scooched back, and you sat your little rump down right on his chest, pushing him back onto the floor by sitting on him.

“I told you,” you reminded him, “I’m not nice about these things, Fred. I suggest you lie down and let me handle… everything.” With that, you leaned forward and placed your hands on his thighs. Then, you started to rub yourself against Fred’s chest, right on top of his Gryffindor button-up.

Fred groaned. Your thighs, ass, and pussy felt so warm against him, and you were so soft. Plus, feeling the way your hands were pressing against his thighs, slipping a little as you moved your hips, only to come down again on his thighs, then to slip, and then to come back and finally clutch at the fabric of his trousers…

Fred lifted his head a little, not wanting to miss a single moment of the show you were giving him.

“Your pussy’s so pretty,” he whispered.

You paused and laughed a little. “What d’you mean?” you asked, in a deceptively soft voice. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“Yes, I did,” Fred told you. “Last time…”

“Shush,” you said suddenly.

At this, Fred managed to pull his hand free from his side, as your thighs were still sandwiching his torso. He reached out and he meant to tug your panties to the side – or better yet, rip them off completely – but suddenly, you reached back and caught his hand in yours.

“No. You can’t touch me.” You tossed his hand aside.

Fred looked up at you, for you were, once again, looking back so prettily over your shoulder and staring down at him.

“What? Why not?”

“That’s the rule. No touch.”

“That’s a rubbish rule.”

“Probably,” you agreed. “But that’s how it is, Weasley.”

Fred groaned heavily. “You’re impossible.”

You turned back and smiled to yourself. Then, you started to move your hips once more. This time, you clutched at the waistband of his boxers and held onto that as you grinded on top of Fred’s chest.

The more you got into it, the more you sank down on top of Fred, and the more your hand pushed his boxers, and his boxers went lower and lower on his hips, until it was right at the top of his cock…

But then, with a low, beautiful moan, you let go of his boxers’ waistband and instead fell forward onto Fred entirely. Your breasts were pressed up against his hips and stomach, while your head was resting just beside his cock.

At that moment, you reached down with your hand and rubbed yourself fervently between your legs, pushing yourself to cum.

Fred’s mind was spinning. His mouth fell open as he watched you getting steadily wetter on your hand, until the middle of your pink panties turned a blushing red. Meanwhile, you were moaning hotly against Fred’s pelvis, on his bare skin just above his cock. Then, when you finally made yourself cum, with a loud ��uhn!” you jolted forward a little, and your mouth pressed flush against Fred’s cock – only he was still in his fucking boxers.

With a loud, needy groan, Fred suddenly buckled underneath you. He thrust his hips up into the air, towards your face.

You gasped a little in surprise, but you quickly sat up and grabbed his thighs and held them down.

“Please!” Fred begged, shivering underneath you. ��P-Please take out my cock. Fuck, I can’t stand it anymore. C’mon, please…”

“No,” you insisted. “Merlin, I thought you were going to cum just from that.”

“No, I wanna – wanna be inside you before I c-cum,” Fred blabbered.

“Oh, Freddie,” you said softly, “how in the world will that ever happen, when you won’t even get to touch me?”

Just then, Fred lifted his hands and he tried to slyly grasp your hips, but you once again caught his wrists and tossed his hands away.

“I said, ‘no touch,’” you reminded him. “Touch me again, and I leave.”

Fred whimpered. “You’re fucking torturing me,” he accused you.

“You signed up for it,” you reminded him.

“No, I didn’t,” he pushed back. “Last time, you at least let me eat your pussy out, remember? But this time, you’re not even gonna let me touch you?”

You took a moment and you switched positions, sitting on his chest again, but this time, so that you were facing him. Then, you put your finger to your lips and pretended to think. “Hmm… Oh, that’s right. Last time, you did eat me out. I forgot all about it.”

Fred’s face flushed red with embarrassment. “You’re lying,” he said harshly.

You smiled and whispered back, “Maybe.”

At this, Fred’s eyes widened and his entire face lit up hopefully.

Oh my, he’s so easy, you thought to yourself. Poor boy. And I thought he was cleverer than that, what with all those stupid pranks and stunts he’s always pulling.

The thing was – Fred was cleverer than that, and honestly, it was your loss not to see how whipped Fred Weasley was for you.

Still, you sensed in your heart that Fred really was doing his best for you – playing nice, showing manners, respecting your rules – all of that, and for you. You guessed that he didn’t act this way around anybody else.

So, you told him, as sweetly as you could, “But if you’re a good boy, and you keep your hands to yourself, I promise I’ll give you a little show.”

“Show?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “I’ll let you see my pussy, and I’ll cum for you.”

“Then, I get to taste you,” Fred bargained, excited, but trying not to show it in his attempt to negotiate with you.

“Well… We’ll see about that,” you replied smartly. Then, you propped yourself up on his chest again, making sure your pussyhole was pressed up against his chest.

Fred stiffened, and you felt him hold his breath.

Mmm, with his chest expanded like that, it makes it feel so good for me, you thought. His chest is so sturdy, must be from all that Quidditch he plays… You decided to reward him by sweeping your hair back over your shoulders and then slowly undressing yourself, unbuttoning your own jacket and top – but only for the first four buttons, only enough for Fred to glimpse the slightest cleavage of your soft breasts.

Fred suddenly exhaled, though in a rather stuttering fashion.

You smiled to yourself. Then, you placed your hands delicately on Fred’s chest, gathering them up together rather cutely. Of course, with this motion of gathering your arms together and leaning forward to make sure you were sitting perfectly on Fred’s chest, suddenly, Fred had a wonderful view of your breasts peeking out from your shirt.

“Fuck, baby, you look so soft,” Fred whispered, hardly aware that he was speaking.

“Mmm, well, my pussy gets soft, too, when I cum,” you told him, as shyly as you would have confessed to him. Then, leaning forward onto your hands a bit more, you started to grind your little cunt on his chest again.

Fred could not believe how gorgeous you looked, shifting on top of him like that. Your hips kept rolling forward, lifting your ass up and down. Your skirt, while tucked away, had fallen to your hips, and it flounced along as you pushed yourself over and over against him – against “Freddie,” as you kept moaning out. Fred usually hated that name, but when you moaned it and like that, well, it was a completely different story. He loved being called that by you because he loved the way his name spilled from your lips as you pleasured yourself on top of him.

More than once, Fred’s hands crept up to press themselves against your ass. Every time, you whispered a reminder of, “No touch.”

But you continued to grind your pussy faster and faster against his chest, until a button came flying off of his shirt. It hit the floor, bounced a few times, and then rolled away. Fred didn’t care, he barely even saw it pop off, because he was so mesmerized in watching you. At some point, your head dipped back and Fred saw the way your hair streamed down your back, and if he looked closely enough – which he did – Fred could see the outline of your pussy lips against your wet panties, and he could see how your pussy lips spread out against his chest as you kept pressing yourself against him.

More than anything, Fred wanted to sit up and hold you in his arms, or to at least be able to grasp your ass and held you rub yourself all over his chest… At the same time that he felt intensely satisfied watching you use him like this, making yourself warm and wet and “soft,” as you’d put it, on his chest, there was an equally intense dissatisfaction because fuck, why wasn’t he allowed to touch you?

Fred suddenly breathed out harshly, and your breath caught, as you buckled forward slightly, what with his chest suddenly deflating underneath you.

“Freddie, hold your breath. It feels better,” you scolded him lightly.

Fred listened to you, sucking his breath in and holding it. However, in his head, he half-begged and half-argued with you, thinking, I can make you feel much better than this, I know it. I can make you cum faster and harder, and I swear I’ll make you cum over and over again. You can use my chest like this, sure, but I’m also ready to give you my fingers, my mouth, and Merlin, my cock – please, take my cock in your pussy, c’mon, baby, c’mon…

Fred was slowly going crazy within the confines of his own mind, which, of course, was exactly what you wanted.

Finally, with a hard puff of a sweet, little “ah” leaving your lips, you left a cute, yet quite sizeable wet stain on the front of his shirt.

“Mmm,” you moaned, and you wiggled your hips happily on top of Fred.

“Shit, baby,” Fred whined, “you’re so fucking cute. Please let me touch you.”

“No,” you stressed. “The rules haven’t changed. But…” You ran a single finger down Fred’s throat and onto his chest. “You did let me cum on you, so here. Watch me, baby.”

As soon as Fred heard you say, “watch me, baby,” he was riveted, and he would not have looked away for the world.

You lifted your hips ever so slightly. Reaching down, you finally pulled aside your panties and let Fred see your wet, pulsing little cunt.

Fred swallowed thickly. Oh, fuck, her pussy’s even prettier than I remember. And Godric, she’s so fucking wet. She’s wet enough to take fingers, to take cock. Fuck, I need to be inside her. I just – I need it so badly. I want to hear her moan when she first takes my cock, and I just know I can make her gasp desperately, and to cum like she’s never cum before…

But you kept your thighs pressed tightly against Fred’s arms and you forced him to watch you cum all over his chest without allowing him to lift so much as a finger to touch you.

Instead, you reached down and rubbed your wet little pussy a few times before you pushed your fingers inside of yourself. “Uhn,” you moaned out hotly. “Mmm, yes.”

You sighed out faintly before you told Fred, quite truthfully, “I love it when my pussy’s full. Freddie, you can’t even imagine how tight I get for fingers, and especially for… cock.” As you mentioned the word, “cock,” you pushed your fingers inside of yourself once more.

Fred’s cock throbbed heavily in his boxers. He felt so keyed-up, so ready to make love to you – and yet, here you were, keeping him as trapped as ever. Fred suddenly growled, in a far more demanding tone than you expected, “Let me touch you.”

You paused, and you cocked your head as you studied him. Where did that growl come from? you wondered. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit taken aback.

But you retained your teasing, dominant persona, as you murmured quietly, “Can’t take it anymore, Freddie?”

“I – really – fucking – can’t,” Fred stressed. And it was true. Though you couldn’t see it, his cock was so stiff it was all but poking out of his boxers.

“Well, then. Here.” You leaned forward a little, and then, you pushed your cum-soaked fingers against his mouth.

Fred’s mouth opened a little, and rather helplessly, when he felt your little hand on his mouth. Your fingers slipped into his warm, wet mouth.

“There,” you said softly, “you got to taste me again…”

Fred sucked hard on your fingers, and then, he slipped his tongue over and between all of your fingers – though, sadly, there were only three fingers inside of his mouth.

“That’s enough.” You took your hand away.

By now, Fred was nearly crying. His face was flushed a brilliant red that rivaled his finger hair. And his tall, lanky body was trembling all over the floor – both with want and indignation.

“ ‘S not enough. Please, baby, please…” Fred gasped out. “Want my mouth on you. Want to taste that little pussy of yours. Fuck, please, please let me. Don’t – Don’t you want it too?”

Slowly, you shook your head. Almost sadly, you murmured, “No, Freddie, not from you.”

“Please.”

“You’re so desperate. Poor baby.”

“Please,” Fred choked out again, nearly crying. He tried to shift forward, because your wet little pussy was right there, in front of him. Startled, you nearly fell off of him, as his abrupt movement dislodged you.

Fred suddenly sat up. In a fury of motion, he abruptly grabbed your hair rather roughly in one hand, and with the other, he gripped the side of your rolled-up skirt.

Before you could berate him, Fred snarled at you, “‘M not fucking touching you.”

You stared at him, in total awe of him.

Fred held you in place, with his fingers meanly gripping your hair and holding your head in place so that you had to stare directly into his face, without being able to turn away, while, with his strong grip on your skirt, he kept you sitting right in his lap.

“You are touching me,” you pressed back, though you were still stunned by how abruptly Fred had flipped the tables on you.

“No, it’s your hair and your stupid skirt I’m touching,” Fred growled. “Now, stop teasing me.”

“I wasn’t,” you lied through your teeth. You reached up and gently pushed at his chest with both of your hands. “Now, let me go, Freddie.”

At this, Fred softened. The anger softened in his eyes. But he still held onto you as he asked, in a demanding yet strangely pitiful voice, “You don’t want me? At all?”

You suddenly felt a deep thrill go through your heart. “Fred, it’s just a little game we played.”

“Fine. Fine, it’s a game we played,” Fred accepted.

You started to relax a little, convinced that you had convinced him, when Fred suddenly added, “Well, game’s over now. What are you going to do?”

You stared at Fred, and before you could help it, your anger was starting to show. Your eyes blazed at him, and your brow furrowed.

Fred met your gaze – or, more accurately, he had reached that point far before you, most likely ever since you left him in that secret passageway with messed-up hair, a dazed look, and a mouth glistening with your cum – and he did not back down, not in the least.

And in that moment, there was an incredible meeting of energies, and a brilliant spark appeared. It was a furious moment, but one that sparkled with possibility. And, if only you could have let your pride down in this one moment, just like Fred had asked you to, you could have had Fred Weasley, and Fred could have had you.

But then, Fred moved too quickly – He suddenly leaned forward and he kissed you.

You started at once, but it was confusing – while you backed away by leaning backwards, your hands on his chest balled up into little fists, grabbing at Fred’s shirt and you accidentally pulled him with you. Fred, also taken aback by your sudden movement, felt you almost falling off of his lap. He quickly and instinctively reached up and grasped your bare thigh, just to make you you wouldn’t fall.

Unfortunately, the second his warm hand met your thigh, you suddenly reverted to yourself.

“No, you don’t,” you whispered furiously, and you pushed him back.

At your slightest touch, Fred immediately backed away from you. His intention had never been to hurt you. “Sorry!” he blurted out. “Listen, I wasn’t trying to – I’m sorry - ”

“You cheat,” you seethed, mad as all hell.

But, hearing you call him a cheat of all things, made Fred bristle. “I’m a cheat?”

“Yes. You touched me!”

“Okay, so you get to cum all over me, but I can’t even kiss you?”

“Yes, those are the rules,” you said stubbornly.

Fred groaned. “Who the fuck cares about your rules?”

“Because I said so,” you replied instantly. But you flushed when you realized how immature you sounded.

“Well, if those are the only rules you can come up, maybe you need someone to put you in your place,” Fred argued with you.

At this, you scoffed. “In my place?”

“Yeah,” Fred said hotly.

You suddenly stood up, and before Fred could respond, you put your foot on his chest and you pushed him back down on the ground.

Knowing he would see up your skirt again, and that your panties were still pulled to the side, revealing your wet little pussy that he hadn’t gotten to touch yet, you smiled cheekily down at him.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to put anyone in their place. No, you just stay there and count to ten, Freddie.”

Fred’s mouth fell open.

You smirked. “But, you know, I’m really doing you a favor. You better use this time to think about something other than pranks and sex, okay? Obviously, you didn’t listen to me last time. That was your mistake.”

You then pulled out your wand and pointed it at the ground. A second later, Fred’s missing button came flying into your palm. You leaned down and placed it on Fred’s trembling lips. Then, holding your hair back neatly, you leaned down and pressed your lips against the button – never touching Fred’s lips, but only kissing through the button.

With that, you whispered adoringly, “Okay, love, bye. Have a good day, now.”

You patted Fred on the chest once – a quick, glancing pat – and then you were gone.

Fred was left lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, more dazed and confused than he had ever been in his life, including the time that he and George had accidentally set off a crate full of fireworks and he’d literally been thrown back and fell a good three feet in the air before hitting the ground again.

An entire minute passed before Fred croaked out dryly, “Fuck.”

The button slipped off his lips when he spoke, and it slipped onto his neck.

Fred didn’t have the energy to reach up and remove it for another solid minute.

* * * * * * * * * *

But something about Fred Weasley had captured your attention, and you found yourself thinking of him more often than you cared to admit. However, unable to admit any soft-hearted feelings for him, even to yourself, after the way you’d treated him, you instead channeled your feelings through your pettiness.

The next time Fred tried to cause a diversion by using fireworks, you used the handkerchief that Fred had given you. With it, you were able to quickly spot Fred in the hallway. You rushed over to Filch and hurriedly guided him to Fred.

Close enough to see Fred’s bright hair even through the smoke, Filch’s hand shot out and gripped Fred’s ear – and yanked.

“Ow! Merlin!” Fred yelled.

“I’ve gotchu now!” Filch crowed victoriously.

As the smoke began to clear, Fred scowled at Filch – but then, catching a glimpse of you standing at Filch’s side, his mouth fell open.

You waved his handkerchief in the air and said happily, “I’m forever immune from all of your jokes, thanks to this.”

Fred mouthed at you soundlessly, with his mouth going up and down pathetically like a fish’s.

You giggled. “Be a good boy now, Freddie.”

It was only when Filch was dragging Fred around the corner, that he shouted out in outrage, “You traitor! But you’re still not immune from the ones that don’t use smoke! You just keep that in mind!”

* * * * * * * * * *

As it turned out, years later, when the Ministry of Magic made their biggest purchase of the year at Weasley’s Wizard’s Wheezes, they purchased a number of non-smoking items for undercover work. The irony of it all was, of course, that Fred and George pocketed the most gold they had ever had in their lives by selling a line of products that Fred had started to release his regret and bitterness over what had happened with you.

Perhaps that was why, when he caught a glimpse of you in his shop that afternoon, he felt as though he’d been hit by a sledgehammer. All sorts of emotions came flooding into his heart – emotions that couldn’t at all be justified given the short time and strange, fevered experiences that he had had with you. And yet, there was something about you that Fred couldn’t ever forget, or even think badly of.

* * * * * * * * * *

For your part, sometimes, when you allowed your mind to wander, you ended up thinking about that moment with Fred Weasley – that moment when you had both been furiously gazing at each other, trying to think about how to get into each other’s heads, fighting for control and secretly loving how feisty the both of you were with each other… You wondered about how things might have turned out differently, if you had given yourself to Fred. He was certainly a warmer, more giving person than I was. No question about that, you thought. I’m sure he would have made my life fun.

Just then, somebody in your office called for you. You started, and then you immediately replied that you would be right there. In a position as high and respected as yours, you couldn’t afford to be distracted, you knew that. Still, you allowed yourself one last smile before you once again took the memory of Fred Weasley and locked it away safely in that tiny space of your heart that you had never really acknowledged in your life – a space of thrilling adventure, feverish love, and unexplained wanderlust.

Tagged User(s): @wisetravelerdestiny @saltstacks

#fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #Joke's On You

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angryinternetduck · 3 years ago

Text

Bet On It

HELLO i’m back again with not only another fic but another friends to lovers!!! here’s 5.9k on hotel mishaps, long-term bets, and falling in love. featuring harry styles x reader with just a few warnings of explicit language and alcohol consumption.

enjoy!!!

masterlist | ask

***

Five Years Ago

If you hadn’t met him an hour before in the bar of the hotel, you would’ve said no. Share a hotel room with a stranger just because the hotel fucked up and double booked a room? No. Absolutely not.

Except -

His name was Harry. He was very cute. And sweet. He complimented your shoes in the bar, dimpling at you all cutely before holding out his hand and introducing himself. He let you prattle on for way too long, laughing at all your jokes and nodding gravely when you started getting serious.

And surprisingly, when you said you had to go, he didn’t ask you out or try to kiss you. He just told you it was nice to meet you with a smile. Problem was that that wasn’t the last you saw of him; when you went up to the desk to get your key card, the receptionist informed you of the mistake.

“We’ve double booked it. You’ll have to work it out amongst yourselves,” they said. “We can suggest other places to stay, or you can sleep in the lobby. Or - of course, you can always share. He’s over there. Guy in the pink shirt.”

You looked over, and lo and behold…

“Harry.”

“We meet again.”

“Was this your doing?” you joked. “All that to get me in a room with you?”

Harry grinned. “I wish I were that smart.”

“So just coincidence?”

“Or perhaps fate,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“Did you know?” you asked. “When you, uh - introduced yourself?”

He shook his head and said, “Not that it was you.”

“Well, now that you do, what do you say? Share the room?”

Harry tilted his head from side to side, pondering. “Let’s prove it was fate,” he decided, meeting your gaze with a grin. Your brows furrowed, and he clarified. “Rock, paper, scissors. I win, we’ll share. You win, I’ll find somewhere else to stay.” He held out his fist.

“Won’t make me find somewhere else?” you asked, smiling a bit. “Would rather share?”

He shrugged.

“Alright, then.”

Both of you counted silently, in your heads -

Rock, paper, scissors…

Harry grinned, and you made a fist from your scissors to bump his rock.

“Fate it is,” you said.

Fate proved to be in your favor; that night, you had the most fun you’d ever had in your life. To your surprise, however, the fun didn’t involve sex. Just talking. You sat on the bed drinking booze from the minifridge and talking until dawn with this Harry Styles.

It came up at one point, sex - or at least kissing did - but neither ever happened.

It was around three, when the exhaustion had set in, when you were lying down, gazing into each other’s eyes, half asleep. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” he’d whispered, and you grinned at him. “I should be asking you that, don’t you think?”

He looked confused. “Why’s that?”

“You’re the one in love with me,” you told him.

He giggled, rubbing his eyes. “And what makes you say that?”

“You wanted to share!” you exclaimed, like it was obvious, because it was.

“Sharing is caring.”

You bounced your brows. “Caring. Loving.”

Harry laughed and insisted, “Not the same!”

“I’d bet a million bucks you’re in love with me,” you murmured, tapping his nose.

“Then a million bucks you’d lose.”

“You will be,” you said, nodding slightly.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, a smile growing on his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a million bucks to give me on my deathbed when I still only care?” he said.

“Do you have a million bucks to give me when you confess?” you said back.

He stared at you for a second. His eyes were very green, his smile very wistful. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” you echoed.

Harry nodded. “I will bet you one kiss that I will never fall in love with you.”

“You’re gonna want a lot more than one kiss when you inevitably do,” you whispered.

“At least one kiss,” he amended.

“At least one kiss,” you agreed.

“Shake on it?”

You both shifted around in the bed so you could shake hands without sitting up.

“It’s a bet,” Harry said.

And so it was.

***

Present Day

“Give it to me straight, Styles,” you greet Harry, plopping down at your table with a sigh.

He hesitates for a moment, drawing out the suspense, and then breathes, “Care.”

You shake your head disappointedly. “Unbelievable, how bad you are at lying, you -”

Harry interrupts, “What’s really unbelievable is your tardiness -”

Then you do: “Your annoyingness -”

He pouts and fires back, “Your vocabulary -”

“Your lack thereof -”

“That’s not proper English.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re not proper English.”

“I promise you I am,” he replies with a smirk.

“I’ve always thought the accent was fake.”

“If it were, I’d be the greatest impersonator to walk the earth.”

“Impersonator?” you repeat. “And tell me, what is an impersonator but a talented liar?”

He gives you a grin. “I’ll take the compliment of talented, thank you.”

Leveling his gaze, you smile back and take a sip of your drink. “You know, I think that actually was proper English,” you muse. “Lack thereof. Your vocabulary - or lack thereof.” Harry bites his lip, eyes narrowed, staring at you, and you’re tempted to joke that his focus is lust when he replies, “It’s still wrong. I was saying your vocabulary is naive, and by saying I have none, you’re fundamentally saying the same. It’s redundant.”

Clearly satisfied with himself, he sits back, smiles smugly, and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Harry Styles,” you say, “I’m going to smack that smirk right off your pretty face.”

“Second compliment in a day!” Harry exclaims. “Someone alert the press.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your own drink. “Why, they’d have a field day.”

The little cafe you’re in is absolutely adorable. It’s midway between your place and Harry’s, and after that fateful night in the hotel (during which you learned you live so close to each other), you began a tradition of meeting here once a week.

Tradition doesn’t end with just the location and time. Each meeting is almost exactly the same. You’re always late, and you always greet him the same way: some variation of “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”

And his reply is always the same: negative.

From there, the conversation wanders as much as it ever does, with one asking about the other’s week and the response being long and filled with complaints and woes and lamentations. The question is echoed back, and the response is - again - long, filled with complaints, woes, etc.

Despite the moaning and groaning, the mood never falls too low. It’s impossible to feel down around Harry Styles; just one look at those dimples makes a smile of your own appear on your face.

Your friendship with him has certainly blossomed. It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen in love yet (or maybe he has, you’ll never know unless he says), and a greater wonder still that he hasn’t turned the question around on you.

Because the answer would be yes. You have, in fact, fallen in love with him.

Deeply, madly, in love.

But he’ll never know, because you’ll never say.

***

“I love you,” you tell Harry breathlessly, looking up at him lovingly. “Most ardently.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, no - I’m just a girl! I’m just a girl, standing in front of -”

“I’ll always be there for you!” you cut in excitedly. “All the love in my heart, Llo -”

“Michael, I love you!” Harry gushes. “Choose me, marry me, let me make you happy!”

You jump up and jut a finger at him dramatically. “We live in a cynical world!” you exclaim. “A cynical world, and we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you! You - you complete me!”

Harry jumps up to match you and begins, “I hate that -” then shakes his head and restarts, “I hate the way you’re always right, I hate it when you lie - I hate it when you make me laugh and - and - and even worse when you make me cry - I hate the way - I hate it when” - he’s grinning big now, jumping with excitement and passion - “you’re not around and the fact you didn’t call - but - but mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all!”

It all came out in a rush of jumbled words and you’re so impressed you can’t help but sit back down and clap for him. Bright red, Harry takes a bow and collapses onto his couch next to you. “That took way too much effort,” he says, out of breath.

“It was worth it,” you tell him. “That was dazzling, really. You should go on the road.”

Harry nods. “One man show. Shakespeare. All of his long monologues, then bam - a poem better than all the others combined.” You giggle and fall into him, leaning against his chest with a sigh. “I’ll come with you,” you say. “Follow you to the ends of the earth and hold my breath to Pluto.”

“What’s that from?” Harry asks.

“That’s all me, baby.”

“Maybe the poem better than all the others combined could be yours.”

“Impossible,” you say immediately. “Nothing will ever beat Kat Stratford.”

“I’ll manage.”

You scoff. “You?”

“We.”

You shake your head. “There’s no ‘we’ in genius, Styles, but there is an I.”

“And a U!” Harry replies.

You look up at him.

“Wait.”

Snickering, you sit up and stretch your arms towards the ceiling. “Stick to memorization, maybe. Leave the heavy lifting to me. You need some practice on that speech, anyway - I counted at least three errors, not to mention the stuttering.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Harry sings. “What do you say, can I confess my love to you every night for the sake of practice?” You shake your head, standing up again and grabbing an empty container of food to throw away. “Not without losing the bet.”

Harry follows you, cleaning up as he goes. “Just for the one man show!”

“No exceptions.” You grin at him, grabbing your stuff and heading for the door. “Thanks for the food, Styles. I’ll see you Sunday?” Harry nods and blows you a kiss, which you catch and put in your pocket. “I’ll save that for when you lose the bet,” you tell him.

“Get outta here,” Harry laughs.

You stick your tongue out at him and stick a post it note on the door frame as you leave.

***

Harry usually wakes up to a few texts. Maybe a call every so often. Notifications from social media aren’t uncommon. The only days he wakes up to nearly a hundred texts are the nights you decide to go to the outlook.

Whether or not you like staying up late normally, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning to go to this place you found about three hours outside of the city. It’s a bit of a drive, but it’s completely worth it.

There’s a little woods out there, and a while ago you went a bit off path and found an outcropping of rocks that look out over the city. At night, stars are visible. There’s nothing you love more than lying for hours on the cool stone, gazing up at the heavens above.

The first time you took Harry to the outlook, you asked a question, and Harry’s answer to that question was one of the only lies he’s ever told you. You’d asked, “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

And Harry had said, “Of course not!” when in reality, he’d been looking for an opening to mention that very fear for the twenty minutes before, while you’d been climbing steadily uphill through the trees.

In his defense, there was no way he could’ve said anything different. You were just so happy, glowing with excitement and practically buzzing with energy. Plus, you’d grabbed his hand at the moment you asked to pull him up the last ridge and he was still a bit startled.

He never came to regret that lie. He grew out of the fear, anyway, so it wasn’t a huge deal. In fact, he’s almost come to love heights. He loves the thrill, the burst of happiness, the insane phenomenon of a racing heart and the feeling of being totally at peace all at the same time.

Incidentally, he also feels that way around you, whether the two of you are a hundred feet up or not. He’s always enjoyed spending time with you, and even just seeing you makes him happy. It’s what makes you a good friend.

Harry’s gone with you a few times to the outlook, but it’s usually pretty late by the time you want to go. Sometimes you’ll call him and he’ll pick up, and you’ll talk on the phone until one of you falls asleep.

You went last night, apparently, because Harry scrolls through seventy-two text messages this morning. It takes a while, since he reads all of them and then replies, but he woke up early anyway so it’s fine.

It’s Sunday, so he’s headed to the cafe to meet you. He has a cup of coffee even though he’ll get one at the cafe, too. There’s a sticky note on the coffee maker - Note to self: tell Harry there’s a snickers bar in his sweatshirt pocket - which you probably left a few days ago.

Harry smiles at the note, then frowns, sticking his hand in his pocket. There is, in fact, a Snickers bar in there, and Harry throws it out. It’s from almost a month ago, when you and him had an August Halloween. The sun is just a little too bright. Harry listens to music in the car, humming along and tapping his hands against the wheel in time.

You’re late, of course, so he orders his second cup of coffee and reads a newspaper on the shelf while he waits. Today it’s five minutes until you arrive, which is actually more on time than usual, and Harry throws you a large brimmed hat he found in his closet when you approach the table.

“What say you, Harry Styles,” you greet him, catching the hat and placing it on your head. “Make a jester laugh” - you form a heart with your fingers - “or make a jester cry?” Your heart cracks in two as you pout at him.

Breaking a finger-heart of his own, Harry grins. “Laughing clowns were always creepier to me,” he tells you. You trace a finger down your cheek like a tear and sit down across from him, sliding a menu from its place on the wall and beginning to read it over.

You look up at him, half smiling, a joke on your lips, and then -

Harry blinks.

Just like that, something’s changed.

You snap in front of his face. “Hello? Anything? You could at least pretend to laugh.”

“Christ, sorry,” Harry breathes. “What’d you say?”

Raising a brow, you lean forward and inspect him. “You alright, there, Styles?”

“If I were any better and it’d be obscene,” Harry answers easily, tapping your nose.

Grinning, you sit back. “Fantastic. Tell me, then, how it’s been. Fill me in.”

“It’s a lot better seeing you in that hat.”

“Oh, I forgot!” you exclaim, looking up at it.

Harry giggles and asks, “You wanna know what one hat said to the other?”

“Oh, boy.”

“I’ll see you on a-head!”

Groaning dramatically, you throw the hat at him and bury your face in your hands.

***

"This is getting embarrassing, Styles,” you say as you walk up to Harry.

He turns around, a smile already on his face, and begins, “What’s -”

He stops when he sees you, because you’re all dressed up. You look absolutely stunning, which was on purpose, because of course you want to see his reaction, whether he loves you or not. And it’s very satisfactory, this reaction.

“You look fantastic,” Harry says softly.

You clear your throat, a little put off by how serious he’s being. “That was the goal.”

His eyes float back up to meet yours, a small smile on his face. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” you chirp. “But don’t let your head get too big - I only came for the free food and movie.” Finally, the glaze over his eyes fades, and he grins at you. He takes your arm, and as you walk, he asks, “You started a thought, you know, about something embarrass-”

You scoff. “You asked me on a date, Styles!”

“I did not!” Harry insists. He shakes his head. “My date ducked out at the last second -”

Smirking, you cut in, “Wonder why, Mr. Pink Suit.”

“- we were going to match, thank you - but really, she ducked out, and I wasn’t about to waste two perfectly good tickets. Thus… here we are.” He nods, like he’s pleased with his answer, but you raise a brow at him. “That’s a terrible excuse. You can just say you love me. I’ll accept.”

You arrive at his car. “Not yet,” he says, and then he gets in.

He starts the car, and for a moment, you gaze out the window.

Then, breaking the silence, you say, “I like the suit.”

“I like the look.”

“Thanks, I came up with it all by myself.”

“Impressive.”

You wait a moment, and then ask, “What inspired the pink?”

“She said she wanted a pink rose.”

Frowning, you begin, “I thought you said pink roses are -”

“Yeah, they’re not my favorite,” he mumbles.

You snicker a little. “Oh, what a bad date in high school can get you…”

“Hey, don’t tease,” Harry whines with a pout.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur. “You’re nice to dress up anyway. No rose, though?”

Sheepishly, he tells you, “I… forgot.”

“You forgot?” you laugh.

“Yeah…”

“Well, um… well, it’s the thought that counts.”

Harry pulls into the parking lot and parks the car, then unlocks the doors. “Come on,” he says, but you frown at him, confused. “You know you pulled in the wrong way?” you ask, but he just beckons with his hand and opens the trunk.

You hadn’t even looked - there’s pillows back there, and candy, and blankets, and he flicks on little fairy lights. “Harry Styles, you romantic!” you gasp, enthralled. “Wow, I gotta meet this girl, if you’re doing all this for her…”

He sits down and pats the space next to him, then grabs a pack of candy - your favorite. He hands it to you, which you take with a slow smile. “Her favorite too?” you ask. “Nope,” Harry replies, shaking his head as he opens his own pack of candy. “Forgot to ask her, but when I called her in the store she wouldn’t pick up so I just… got yours.” He clears his throat and hands you a bag of popcorn. “There’s this, too.”

“Thanks, Styles.”

On the huge screen in front of you, the movie begins to roll. You take a risk, sliding a little on the seat so you’re leaning against Harry, head against his chest. You can feel him breathing, his heart beating, his arm around your waist, thumb gently moving back and forth over the fabric of your clothes.

You fall asleep for most of the movie.

When you wake up, you’re leaned against a pillow, not Harry. Frowning and out of sorts, you sit up and rub your eyes. He’s leaned against the car outside, on the phone, and you can just barely make out what he’s saying.

“... I know, it’s… Yeah, I - I’m sorry you couldn’t make it, love. I missed you…”

The familiar feeling of tears building behind your eyes horrifies you, and you have to turn your back to him as tears start slipping down your cheeks. You’d somehow managed to convince yourself that it was all a ruse, that he’d meant it to be you from the start, that there was no other girl, that all along it was -

“Hey,” Harry says.

You cough, palming away the tears on your face and yawning like you’d just woken up. “Oh, hey… How’s, um - how’s she doing? Or - whoever - I mean -” You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“She’s fine,” Harry tells you. “How are you? Took a pretty long nap there…”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “I was… I’m tired.”

“C’mon, then, let’s get you home.” He smiles at you, dimpling adorably, and holds out his hand. You take it and slide off the back of his car. “Thanks,” you say. He nods and shuts the trunk while you get into the passenger seat.

You don’t say anything as he starts the car, as he backs out and heads for your place. He glances over at you, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and eventually turns on the radio. You fold up a sticky note and covertly slide it into the center console.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you tell him when he stops the car.

He nods. “See you then.”

You hold his gaze for a second, and then get out of the car. As you’re shutting the door, Harry says, “Hey!” and you stop. “Hey, er - thank you. For coming tonight. I know it was a little… It was a bit much.”

“Not too much at all,” you say softly. “Bye, Harry.”

You shut the door.

***

The sticky note business began about a year after Harry met you. He’d mentioned something about refrigerator magnets being the most charming form of communication ever invented, and the next day he found a sticky note on his mirror that said, Note to self: find a more charming form of communication than refrigerator magnets.

Harry doesn’t find the sticky note in his console until the next night, when he’s driving home after working late and he’s trying to find his phone. It’s ringing, and it’s your ringtone, which is really, really annoying because you set it to the worst song you could think of so he’d be motivated to pick it up fast.

It’s not in the center console. It’s actually in his pocket. He picks it up.

“Harry, you gotta tell me now,” you say immediately. “Do you love me?”

“I -”

“Love or care, Styles.” You sound breathless. “L or C. Lover or Cunt. Tell me now.”

“Cunt,” Harry says reflexively, and then shakes his head. “I mean -”

“You don’t love me.” You don’t sound upset at all. You’re just clarifying.

Harry frowns. “I… What’s going on?”

“Well, I think I love this guy, Styles, and I’m about to fuck him, so I’ll talk to you later.”

And then you hang up.

Harry stares at his phone for a moment. Then he puts it down, frowning at the street in front of him, and thinks for a while until he gets home. When he does, he’s shutting the center console, which he’d left open, and he sees the little post it note.

Note to self: buy a pink rose for h to make him like them bc they’re pretty

Sitting in his car, staring at the note, Harry can’t help but think he’s messed it all up.

***

Sunday. You don’t show up.

***

Another Sunday. Harry orders a coffee and reads the newspaper.

You don’t show up.

***

You answer a text.

He asks if you’re okay, and you say, Yup!

***

You send a text.

Hey, Styles? Can you bring me a flower?

***

He should’ve gone to your place first, Harry’s thinking. He should’ve checked there, and then gone here. But it’s too late now. He’s stepping out of his car, trekking through the forest, and he’s finally here, and -

You’re on your back, staring at the stars.

“You know, I really thought he was the one.”

Harry bites on his lip and fiddles with the flower in his hands. “Did you?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then you sigh and sit up. “No.”

“He didn’t - you’re not… You’re okay, right?”

“Nothing’s broken but my heart,” you murmur. “Physically, I’m fine, emotionally, I’m…”

You fade off, and Harry sits next to you and hands you the flower.

“Yellow,” you whisper. You look up at him, eyes wide in the moonlight. “Why yellow?”

“Color of your shirt the first time I met you.”

Smiling, you murmur, “Memory of an elephant.”

“I couldn’t remember her favorite candy,” Harry says impulsively. He shuts his eyes, exhaling softly. “Sorry. Wrong thing to say.” You shake your head, looking forward again. “It’s fine. How’s she doing?”

“Wouldn’t know.”

Surprised, you glance at him again. “You mean you -?”

Harry shrugs. “She said my priorities weren’t right. Then she said goodbye.”

“We’re just a coupla broken hearted fools, aren’t we?” you say quietly.

“Broken hearted, yes,” Harry replies, “but I’m not a fool. Don’t know about you.”

You scoff, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “We’re having a moment here!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry says, but he’s laughing so the apology is moot.

There’s a beat of silence, and then you say, “I would’ve known about her if I hadn’t missed all our Sundays. I’m sorry.” Harry shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Did you have fun, at least? With Mr. Heartbreak?”

You giggle. “So much fun.”

“Well… that’s good, at least.”

He looks at you, really looks, and for a moment, he forgets himself.

You’re looking up at the stars, your head tilted up, your lips curved upwards in a smile.

Harry’s expression matches yours. It’s one of quiet awe, of happiness and joy and adoration. He’s smiling, too, but it’s not as conscious. It’s more reflexive, something he can’t help but do whenever he catches sight of this view. He’s not looking at the stars, though - his gaze is focused on you.

“Come on!” you exclaim suddenly, jumping up. “This is the perfect excuse to watch The Notebook again.” Harry blinks, standing up and following you back to his car. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” he says.

***

Ideally, on the anniversary of your meeting Harry, you’d both rent a hotel room and get drunk on the minibar, talking nonsense until morning, to properly reenact that first night together. Problem with that is that hotel rooms cost money.

So instead, you have a sleepover. Last year it was at your place, so this year it’s at his. The good thing about not being in a hotel is that you can buy normal size bottles of booze, rather than the teeny ones from the minibar.

He’s grabbing everything from the kitchen while you’re queueing up the movie on the TV in his room. It’s not cooperating, though, and you’re rooting through all the wires in the back to try and find something that’s supposed to be connected.

“Harry, if you don’t get in here this second!” you shout at him.

“Did you get the other remote?” he shouts back.

You groan and whine, “Just come in here!”

“I haven’t gotten everything yet! Look for the second remote. It’s in one of the drawers.”

“Which drawers?” you yell.

He doesn’t reply.

So you ruffle through the drawers closest to the TV. Books, papers, chargers. No remotes. You go further and find his record collection. A few photo albums. You stick a sticky note on the top one that says, Note to self: go through these. There’s more books. A few DVDs.

And then - a folder. It has a yellow flower on it.

Frowning, you glance at the door behind you and then flip it open. What must be a hundred post it notes fall out. Your jaw drops, just slightly, because they’re all from you. Every sticky note you’ve ever left him is in this folder. He kept them all.

“Did you find it?” Harry shouts.

You ask, “Find what?” but your voice is too soft and he doesn’t hear you.

He shouts your name again, and you quickly shove the folder back where you got it. You clear your throat, then yell, “Harry, I can’t find it!” Finally, he comes in, arms full of food and drink, and tugs open the top drawer on his bedside table with his foot.

And there it is.

“Have I got to do everything around here or what?” he jokes.

You give him a laugh and set up the TV, which works just fine now that you have the right tools. Harry sets everything down and puts his hands on his hips, raising a brow at you. “You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, fine,” you tell him. “Just grew a few white hairs waiting for you to come back.”

He sticks his tongue out and tosses a bag of chips at you. “Ha, ha, very funny.”

Finally, the movie’s set up, and you lean against his bed, sighing in contentment as the opening credits start to play. Harry hands you a glass and holds his own out, which you knock against your own. “Cheers, Styles,” you say. “To five years.”

“And counting.”

Grinning, you drink up and then settle back to watch the film.

***

His voice is thick.

Like honey.

It drips off his tongue, catches on his lips, slides down the column of his throat and glistens in the dim light. It’s rich. Deep. It turns to crystal in the cool air around you as his words fade off. You want to reach out and feel it on your fingers, want to taste it on your tongue, want to feel it slide over your lips, down your throat…

“... and then, suddenly, I was flying out the window with the worst pain I’ve ever -”

“Harry,” you interrupt with a giggle, “this is the third time you’ve told this story tonight.”

“It’s a good story!”

“Lemme see,” you say, crawling forward, and you’re on his lap now but you can’t really bring yourself to care because this is for scientific purposes. Harry grins and puts his hands on your waist and you giggle again and put your fingers on his jaw. “Lemme see your tongue.”

“Wanna see it or touch it?”

You smirk and reply, “How ‘bout lick it?”

“That’s gross!” Harry exclaims with a delighted laugh.

“I know!” you exclaim back, equally delighted.

“It’s broken,” Harry says, but he’s opening his mouth so it comes out all warbled. “I’m broken, you know -” You peer at his tongue, but it doesn’t look very broken. “No, you’re not,” you tell him.

“On the inside,” Harry says, pouting at you.

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, nestling your head on his shoulder in a hug. “You’re warm,” you say, “that’s what you are.” Harry nods against you, running his hands up and down your back. “You fix me,” he slurs into your neck.

“That’s so romantic!” you giggle.

You sit there for a second, breathing him in, feeling happy, and then suddenly -

“I’m roasting,” Harry says, and it’s morning.

“I’m so hot,” you groan, “and my head hurts so bad…”

Harry grunts and pushes against you. “Get off me.”

You open your eyes, squinting in the sunlight, and fall off of him and onto the floor.

He stands up, moaning and groaning, and walks out. You may have fallen asleep again because when he comes back in and hands you a glass of water and some medicine you’re blinking back awake. “Thanks,” you mumble, downing both.

“That was something,” Harry says.

“Something for sure,” you say.

“I can’t move,” Harry says.

“Me neither.”

So you don’t. The day drags on, and when you’re both coherent enough for food you go to the kitchen. Harry cooks something up, and you eat it, sitting next to him at the kitchen island. You feel his foot against yours, and you play a half-delirious game of footsie as you finish eating.

Once you’re all done, Harry stands up and starts to wash the dishes. You watch him, watch his back and his arms and the way he moves, and stand up and stand next to him, grabbing a dish towel and holding out your hand. He hands you the plate, and you dry it.

It’s comfortable, the silence, and it’s more than peaceful, standing there drying dishes with Harry in the early afternoon. There aren’t many dishes, but you both take your time, and eventually he breaks the silence and the productivity to put on some music.

And then, suddenly, you’re dancing, a smile on your face that you can’t seem to get rid of curving your lips as you float around the kitchen with him. He’s bopping along to the song, hand in yours, dish towel over his shoulder after he stole it from you.

The dancing carries you to the living room, where he twirls you out so you can collapse onto the couch. He does the same, and you put your feet on his lap, head on the armrest, looking at him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“You’re in front of me.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You raise a brow, smiling and still holding his gaze, and then sit up. “Staring contest, go.”

Instantly, he blinks, and you laugh, “Fuck’s sake.”

“No, no, again,” he demands, grinning, and he blinks quickly a few times before declaring, “Go.” The staring begins. Your eyes begin to sting, and you bite your lip, trying to keep your eyes open.

“We should watch Bird Box,” Harry whispers.

“Saw it last week.”

“I saw it,” he corrects. “You hid behind your hands the entire time.”

“You were the one screaming like a baby.”

“I prefer rom-coms, you know that.”

“Sometimes you need a little variety in life.”

“I lost the bet.”

You blink.

“Victory,” Harry says, a bit weakly, blinking too.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Victory,” Harry repeats, smiling sheepishly.

“No, no, before that,” you insist, shaking your head.

“I lost the bet,” Harry repeats softly.

You swallow thickly. “What bet?”

Harry bites his lip, concentrating, and then stands up and walks away. You scoff, following him, and ask again. “What bet?” He shakes his head, quiet, and opens his refrigerator, looking for something.

“Harry, for the love of -”

He holds out a kiss. A chocolate kiss.

Your eyes widen.

He steps closer, holding the kiss out on his palm. “I lost the bet,” he says. “I fell in love with you.” Your breath catches in your throat. “I don’t know if you feel the same,” he goes on, “so I… I don’t want to kiss you. I mean - I do, but -”

He holds the kiss closer to you. “I lost,” he finishes quietly.

You can’t find the right words.

So instead, you close the distance and kiss him.

The chocolate kiss falls to the floor, and fireworks erupt behind your eyelids.

After a moment, the words come.

And then, when you pull away for a moment, you both speak at the same time -

“I love you.”

Laughter bubbles from your lips, and Harry grins, kissing you again.

“So I guess I didn’t lose after all,” he murmurs.

You smile against his lips. “Let’s call it a tie.”

***

AHHHH there it is!!!! i actually did write this in like . two days . which was ! great haha but i hope u liked it!!!! if u did, feedback and a reblog would be much appreciated 💜

thanks for reading!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

Text

Sleight of Hand (Reid Fic)

Summary: Practical Joker Reader makes the unsuspecting naive Dr. Reid the object of her most recent prank - stealing his ID badge. Category: Pure Fluff, Drabble, One Shot Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Super brief mentioning of dark nature of job, prank Word Count: 2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Despite what anyone else may believe, or what my resting face may convey, I’m not a mean person. I don’t take pleasure in people’s pain, and I certainly don’t intend to hurt anyone.

With that being said - I do thoroughly enjoy messing with people from time to time. Which, in my opinion, is a completely different thing than being mean.

At work, I’m known for pulling harmless pranks. Keyword: harmless. The dark nature that surrounds our job can consume us whole if we let it, and if anyone needs a good laugh here and there, it’s the BAU. Sometimes we all just need reminders that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously, and my silly antics are just the remedy.

A window of opportunity for my most recent practical joke presented itself when I was packing up to leave for the day.

Right across my desk was Reid’s and to my right was Derek’s, but at the moment, Reid was parked at the kitchenette, diligently stirring his coffee and copious amounts of sugar packets together while Derek’s head was buried six feet deep in paperwork. I could tell they would both be in for a long night and I didn’t envy them for that.

“Alright, I’m out!” I announced to them both, but before I could actually get far, Derek stopped me.

“Wait, (y/n)! Hold up,” He sat up from his chair to reach me with an outstretched arm. “Can you put this back on Reid’s desk?”

I blinked hard when he tossed an object at me, so only after I caught it did I open my eyes and realize it was just a pen.

“Wow. Lazy much?” I scoffed, gesturing to Reid’s desk that was less than seven feet away. Derek was probably exerting more effort into stretching out his arm like that to give me the pen as opposed to if he just got off his butt and walked to the desk himself.

“Pleaseee,” He partially begged, causing me to roll my eyes and replace the pen dutifully. As I slipped the pen into its rightful spot in his little cup of writing utensils, something caught my eye.

Lightbulb!

Just sitting there on Spencer’s desk was his badge. It was so carelessly placed in comparison to everything else on the table that had been situated in such a carefully, almost calculated, manner.

I knew Spencer had a habit of taking it off at the end of the day, but it baffled me just how flippantly he treated it. I figured he coveted his badge, but his haphazard placement of it suggested otherwise, while simultaneously showing his humanity to me. He wasn’t so cookie-cutter perfect after all, he could be messy, too.

It was that epiphany that almost made me not want to tamper with it, but it was my own humor that pushed me to do it anyway.

Maybe it’s time Spencer learned a lesson, rather than being the one to teach it.

If he was going to just let this thing lie around like it was nothing, then how would he react if it wasn’t there at all?

I slyly looked up from the badge and to Spencer, whose back was still turned to me in the kitchen and then to Derek, who was too focused on his work to even notice that I was still here. Fully taking advantage of Spencer’s oblivion and the lack of a witness in Derek, I slipped the ID swiftly into my purse. Even if Derek wasn’t the type to be a snitch, it was better that absolutely no one knew.

Less than a millisecond after successfully concealing the badge within my bag, Spencer finally turned around and saw me lingering by his desk.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked with the slightest bit of suspicion in his voice. There was no way he could’ve known what’d I’d just done unless he had eyes at the back of his head, so I stayed calm and collected, relishing in my guaranteed safety.

“Derek wanted me to return your pen,” I explained casually from across the bullpen. I watched as Spencer strolled unhurriedly towards me, and it might’ve been my paranoia that led me to this belief, but I swore I saw his eyes dart to his desk momentarily. However, if he had noticed the absence of his badge, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, thanks! Have a good night.” He smiled and waved back to me, showing no indication of mistrust.

Sucker.

“You, too!” I said with more zeal than the situation warranted. I was worried that might’ve given me away, but I had timed my escape so perfectly that I was already in the elevator by the time he returned to his desk, giving him no chance to inquire about my uncharacteristic behavior.

That was a close one.

When I came in the next morning, Spencer wasn’t there yet. Which was slightly strange given the fact that I was barely on time, so if he came in at any point after my own arrival, Spencer would be considered late for work. Occurrences like that only happen once in a blue moon, and usually, the reason for them are mysterious haircuts or something’s wrong. I hoped for his sake it was the former.

Now you might consider me an impeccable troublemaker, but I’d first and foremost be rendered outstandingly forgetful. I say this only because I had completely forgotten that I stole Spencer’s badge the night before. But can you blame me? It was stashed away in my purse, hidden to my immediate sight, and the object was so small that it didn’t stick out to me or add an excess of weight in my bag that would serve as an unintentional reminder. It never once crossed my mind, not even when I looked to Derek to ask, “Where’s Reid?”

With a coffee mug in one hand, Derek put his arms out to either side of him and shrugged. Suddenly, the mug precariously shook from the draft created by someone blowing right by him.

It was Reid.

“Whoa, slow your roll there, Pretty Boy. Almost knocked my coffee over.” Derek reprimanded playfully, clutching on tighter to his precious coffee that almost succumbed to Spencer’s speed when he breezed by.

But rather than apologizing or laughing, Spencer kept on his pursuit. Since the time he got here, his eyes were glued to his desk with determination. Even as he approached his desk, he hadn’t yet acknowledged me or Derek. Instead, he was mumbling to himself while haphazardly sorting through his desk. He was frantic and in disarray, a manner that worried both me and Derek.

“What’s wrong, Reid?” I leaned forward to observe his desk, which by now, was what I had to think was a direct reflection of his brain - completely chaotic. Papers were scattered, books were open to random pages, he even emptied out his well-maintained writing utensil cup.

“I lost my badge.” He answered with his attention still trained on finding it. Luckily for me, that meant he couldn’t see the sudden smirk that grew on my face as a result of his response. There was no way to hide my entertainment without biting down on my lip to keep it from contorting into a smile or perching my head on my hand and using my knuckles to hide my devilish grin.

“When’s the last time you had it?” Derek was surprisingly just as concerned as Reid and just as eager to help him find it, even setting down his coffee on his own desk to help Reid sort through his.

“I always take it off at the end of the day, and I remember setting it on my desk, but I didn’t take it home with me. I don’t recall even leaving here with it, so I must’ve left it somewhere here.”

At this point, my unbridled enjoyment of this was too much to physically contain, that I actually had to spin my chair a complete 180 degrees just to shield them from the sight of my imminent laughter.

“(Y/n), do you remember seeing it -” Derek’s voice overpowered my muffled giggles, and when he looked up to ask me that, he would’ve seen my shuddering shoulders from where I was laughing hard, yet noiselessly. I spun my chair back around and looked at him with cool indifference.

He quickly noted the shade of red I had turned and profiled the situation. But rather than outing me, he followed the instruction of my index finger to my lips and stayed quiet.

I took his alliance as an opportunity to nonchalantly retrieve the badge from my purse. At a tantalizingly slow pace, I raised it in the air, until it was so high, Reid would be able to see it dangling from my thumb and forefinger.

“Looking for this?”

Spencer’s gaze immediately shot upward to look right at the badge, before flashing to me.

What part of him reacted first, I wasn’t sure. Was it the sigh of relief or the flared nostrils and clenched jaw that came soon after?

He wasn’t even going to say anything to me before grabbing it from me, that’s how pissed he was. But my quick reflexes lunged me backward at the same moment he reached out to get his badge from me, preventing him from successfully taking it back. I couldn’t believe he actually tried that and thought it would work.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I wagged my finger left to right to communicate my disapproval. “Not so fast, Pretty Boy. I want something in return.”

He shot me the most deadpan glare. “What do you want?”

I put my finger to my chin and looked up to coyly think about it, but more so to extend his torture for just a few seconds longer. I could feel him staring a hole into me as he grew more and more impatient. “Well, it’s gotta be something good. I mean, imagine what would’ve happened if this landed in the wrong hands.”

“Evidently, it did.” He coldly replied.

“Ouch,” I feigned offense and brought my hand to my chest to clutch my heart with a short gasp. “I’m so hurt,” I said with the biggest pout.

He was not nearly as entertained as I was, and his lack of amusement came in the form of a stoic, “I’ll teach you sleight of hand.”

My body actually had to reboot at the sound of his proposal. “Wait, are you serious?” I clarified.

“Yes. It physically pains me every time I watch you try to do it, so I figure it’s better for me if I teach you how to do it properly instead of having to sit through another one of your lousy, pathetic magic tricks.”

I would’ve been offended, but I’d been begging him to teach me sleight of hand for months, so the insults were quickly disregarded by me in case he changed his mind during the time I’d take up being hurt by his cruelty.

“Deal,” I smirked while handing him his badge back.

Needless to say, I did teach the good doctor a lesson, but it seems he still hasn’t learned … for why would you teach the biggest practical joker in the office sleight of hand? That only adds to my arsenal of tricks I have up my sleeve to use against my coworkers.

Maybe I should teach Spencer another lesson and see if he learns this time around.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #juniorgman187 #criminal minds

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strawbabysimp · 4 years ago

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Adult Trio Dealing With Rejection HCs

Chrollo

It would take a lot for Chrollo to actually confess his feelings, the unstable life of a Troupe member makes attachments extremely difficult and he knows this. For him to give you a chance means he really values you and has probably already thought of different ways to make this work. When you reject him it's like all his plans fall apart and he feels like a complete fool for getting his hopes up about you.

He sort of just goes quiet, accepting the situation for what it is and giving up immediately. To go from such excitement to this state takes its toll on him though and he can't help as his eyes begin to water. He doesn't move to wipe the stray tear away, he just sort of nods and says that he'll leave you alone from now on. It doesn't matter if you wanted to stay friends with him, he just can't do that.

He sets off soon after, not wanting to stay around even if he had a job planned there. You don't even get a goodbye and his next few days are spent regretting not trying harder to prove he could make you happy. He knows deep down it wouldn't have worked and there was nothing else to do but he just wanted it all to work out how he had planned.

The Troupe's next few jobs are reckless, the risk barely worth the earnings. It's not that they can't handle it necessarily but Chrollo insists that they don't need thought-out plans, to just go in and tear it apart at random to get what they want. That things always have a way of falling apart so why even try.

He still thinks you're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to him, glad that he had the chance to experience these feelings. He'll look back on the times you spent together as friends with a smile on his face after time passes. One day you'll receive a bouquet of flowers at your doorstep with a letter attached saying just that.

Hisoka

Hisoka had constantly been dropping little hints about his feelings, flirting comments and teasing remarks making their way into every conversation. You seemed okay with them. He thought he had a chance. When he does confess and gets rejected in return his eyes will widen in surprise before he lets out a small laugh. He thinks it's a game. He clarifies that he's serious and when you make it clear you are too he just freezes. He really hadn't expected this.

Hisoka plays it off well, making some excuse to leave quickly as his chest burns. He's never been so embarrassed. "Oh well~ the show must go on, as they say. No hard feelings. Just don't come looking for me when you suddenly find yourself falling madly in love later on."

He'll schedule his next fight at the Arena as soon as possible, showing them no mercy as he tears them apart on stage. He laughs cruelly, unable to control his bloodlust as he shoots a card off into the crowd. One haft of the onlookers is petrified as they witness one of their own impaled in the stands while the other is enthralled by the impossible amount of bloodlust even those without nen abilities can sense.

The magician will still want to keep contact at first but it's nothing like it was before. Every time he tries to joke with you his tone turns sour and he quickly changes the subject, the memories of your past rejection not something he wants to have flash in his mind.

Even imagining you thinking about him, judging him, looking down on him, triggers him. It'll get to be too much and either he works to scare you off by showing you his unfiltered brutality or, if nothing else seems to work, he'll kill you. He'll never recover from your death or having taken away the life of someone he was ready to devote himself to but at least the insanity your rejection caused will cease. He'll never let himself truly fall in love again and if he ever feels himself doing so he'll end the other person before the feelings have a chance to blossom.

Illumi

The assassin takes the time to plan out how he's going to tell you, renting out a nice place to eat and having the servers leave you alone for him to get the words out. He saw it in the romance movies he watched beforehand. It always worked out so well he thought that the film couldn't possibly lie. Only it did.

He's the physical embodiment of "Oh baby that's not gonna work" because your rejection is not an option with him. If he thinks you're worthy of him that means he must have you. You not returning his feelings doesn't deter him in the slightest. He'll keep trying no matter how many times you refuse, sending you flowers, buying you nice things, offering to take you out again, etc, all these things never stop. It seems pathetic but he just really wants to show how much he values you in hopes that you eventually return his affection.

When it sets in that you don't want him and never will go with him he'll want to take you despite that. He'll think of how to do it, in which way he'll keep you contained, but as he plans it out he realizes that's not what he wants. He wants to see you smile, to walk beside him willingly, to be happy with him. And that's just not something that can happen.

Illumi'll feel completely powerless, there's no way to make this work for the two of you and that's not something he's ever experienced. The fact he wants you to be happy while with him has him questioning this feeling and the sadness upon realizing that no one has ever thought that way about him sets him off.

He questions his self-worth and how no matter how hard he works it won't get him anywhere. His best is simply not enough. Not knowing what else to do he ends up approaching his parents with sad eyes, making his shameful situation known. Silva makes it clear that they don't care either. After that, he simply goes back to what he's always been. Alone. Except this time he doesn't have the hope that someone will save him from it.

#Adult Trio #Headcanons #Chrollo Headcanons #Hisoka Headcanons #Illumi Headcanons #Chrollo x Reader #Hisoka x Reader #Illumi x Reader #Hunter x Hunter #HxH #Anime #Chrollo Lucilfer #Hisoka Morow #Illumi Zoldyck #Dark Content

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cake-writes · 4 years ago

Text

No Vacancy (2/5)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Both Bucky and Reader are gonna get kind of dark in this, so… Dark Fic (I guess?), Very Dubious Consent, Somnophilia (sex with a sleeping partner – and it’s gonna be more than once), Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Hair-Pulling, Choking, Spanking, Degradation, Visible Marks, Breathplay, Throatfucking, Restraints, Masturbation, Angst, Anxiety, Feels, Mutual Pining, VERY OBVIOUSLY 18+

Summary: You and Bucky have been on so many missions together, you’ve lost count. How is it that you’ve never shared a bed until now?

A/N: this chapter was supposed to be about half this long and contain the next chapter’s plot, but now the next chapter is going to involve a POV shift so tl;dr yeah idk what i’m even doing anymore 🤷 LOL enjoy!!! *nervous laughter* what the fuck

Part One / Master List

In the soft fleece of his sweatpants, he feels… sticky. Strange. Off, and Bucky realizes, then, that he must have had a wet dream.

Shit.

It’s his first realization upon waking. The second is that you’re already up; the sheets beside him are long cold, and he can hear the shower running, water splattering unevenly against tile as you wash away yesterday’s road trip. Too many hours cooped up in a stuffy beater, but the two of you have been on so many missions together now that it’s commonplace. Normal.

He’s more used to being with you than by himself anymore.

The two of you drove to the middle of nowhere for this mission, and by the time he pulled into town – a little after 1 in the morning – the only motel was already fully booked, save for a single room with a queen bed. Some wellness convention in town, apparently, and a whole thirty attendees by the looks of things, but you just took the room keys with a shrug and a smile.

“We’ll manage. Right?”

“Yeah,” came his answer, automatic, but it felt wrong to share a bed with you because it’s more than that for him. The way he always trails behind you like a lost puppy dog, like when you made your way back outside to grab your bags – it’s obvious.

He wants this.

You don’t.

And now, the very thought of you wet and naked in the shower makes him uncomfortably hard. He can picture it so easily because his mind’s already done the dirty work for him. What should have been a nightmare last night, a vivid memory of one of Hydra’s breeding experiments from decades past – well, it wasn’t so bad this time. It felt real. It felt good, and he can only assume that’s because you were in it.

A nameless face replaced by yours, gasping, wanting, begging for more, begging him to breed you, to fill you, to make you his – it’s a fantasy he’s kept under lock and key for far too long.

It’s difficult enough having to share a bed with you, so why the hell did he have to dream about that now?

You make him feel things he shouldn’t. You always have.

The shower shuts off, then, and Bucky quickly pulls himself out of bed to hide the evidence of his crime. White-stained sweats are discarded in favour of a fresh pair, just in time for you to pull open the bathroom door, one towel tucked taut around your body and another for your hair.

You stop in your tracks when you see that he’s awake. It’s a longer pause than necessary, and he feels the heat bloom in his cheeks as you stare at him. The way you study his face makes him nervous, makes him feel like you know what he’s done: that he’s dreamt of you, that he’s made a mess because of you.

It’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating.

At least until you offer him a casual, “Morning, Bucky,” and make your way to your suitcase.

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Nothing’s changed.

“Morning,” he responds, but his throat is dry. He wants to ask how you slept, half to ascertain that you don’t know and half because he’s genuinely curious, but he doesn’t ask. He’s too nervous.

“Shower’s free,” you say, turning away from him to rifle through your things for a change of clothes.

And of course Bucky’s eyes lock onto the exposed skin of your shoulders and back because he just can’t help himself, not when he’s feeling like this, and he watches a droplet of water roll from the nape of your neck to beneath your towel – right next to a couple of freckles he swears he saw in his dream, the very dream where he fucked the breath out of you and filled you with cum until you couldn’t take anymore. But not for lack of trying.

Christ.

“Yeah,” Bucky rasps, tearing his eyes away just seconds before you turn back around, t-shirt and jeans in hand. “Okay. Thanks.”

He won’t look at you again. He can’t.

He shouldn’t think about you like this. He shouldn’t want you like this.

So he escapes into the steamy room, because he’s just about ready to jump out of his own skin. The door shuts behind him with a soft click, and the sound comes as a small comfort; it’s a barrier, almost, one that’s quickly forgotten when he sees your toiletries on the benchtop and in the shower.

He’s surrounded by you.

He’s suffocating.

The shower leaves Bucky feeling a lot more refreshed.

Ropes of sticky white wash down the drain along with his worries, and he already feels better. Clearer. Even if it’s wrong to imagine you that way, it still takes the edge off – lets him concentrate more on the mission than you, which is the entire reason the two of you are here.

Problem is, he feels like god damned teenager.

What the hell is wrong with him?

“What’s the plan for today?” he asks you, towelling dry his hair with one hand. He’s still shirtless – pulled on a pair of black jeans a minute ago, but he hasn’t yet grabbed a shirt out of his duffel because he’d rather try for a proper conversation with you. Try to make things feel normal again.

This is commonplace, he has to remind himself. Casual.

You’ve shared a room before, a fact only further proven when you glance up at him from the notebook in your lap and barely bat an eyelash. You’re sitting on the bed with your legs crossed, going over the mission notes and putting together a list of potential leads just like you always do.

“Breakfast,” you answer. “I did a little light reading while you were in the shower.” That’s when you hold up a pamphlet with the motel’s branding on it for emphasis. “Free muffins, see? All you can eat.”

Nothing’s changed. You’re the same as ever.

Bucky snorts. “How bad do you think their coffee is?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be awful,” you say with a grin, tossing the pamphlet back down onto the bed. “Come on, hurry up. I’m starving.”

“Muffins aren’t gonna fill you up, you know,” he teases, reaching around you for the pamphlet. He wants to check if it mentions any specific brand of coffee or if he’ll be drinking dirt today.

Not that it matters, because that’s when you do react; it’s barely noticeable, but you flinch.

Not normal.

A shaky breath escapes your lips.

“After breakfast, we should stop by the pharmacy,” you try continue on with the day’s itinerary like nothing’s wrong, like you didn’t just jump because he got too close, but he can discern the slight tremble in your voice.

You’re scared. Even Bucky can see it.

“Why?”

It’s a question he doesn’t want you to answer. Not really.

When you look up at him again, there’s some emotion there – something unreadable. It’s like you want to say something, maybe, but you don’t. Instead you clear your throat and give him the obvious excuse: “I’m not feeling too great today. Gonna grab some cold meds.”

A lie.

And then you shift to squeeze your thighs together, before you hop up from the bed entirely – up and away from him.

“Alright,” Bucky acquiesces, but it’s only out of respect for you that he does.

You’ve never done that before.

You’ve never lied to his face like that before.

You’ve never been scared of him before. Not like that.

He should know; he’s gotten close to you a lot, probably too often if he’s honest with himself, but it’s not like anyone’s actually keeping track except for him. The two of you have played newlyweds and siblings and all sorts of stupid roles together on undercover gigs; he’s had his arm around you, had his body up against yours, even, and you’ve never, ever reacted that way.

Why now?

As Bucky pulls a shirt over his head, he catches you watching him in the mirror. There’s something dark about the look in your eyes that unsettles him, but it feels even worse when you look away.

Bucky opens the door to the guest services office for you, and when you walk in, he gently places his hand on your lower back like he’s done a number of times before. This time, however, it’s a test.

You don’t react. You don’t even blink.

Maybe he’s thinking too much. Again.

It’s been raining for a while, judging by the number of puddles in the ill-maintained parking lot and the bucket catching water in the foyer of the office. Bucky finds himself thinking that the two of you might have gotten lucky with your room; no leaks yet, but his mind is still stuck on other matters.

Maybe you really aren’t feeling well. Maybe that’s all it is.

The office smells even more damp and dusty this morning than it did last night. It makes his nose wrinkle.

“This place is a real mess, isn’t it?” you whisper under your breath, eyes alight with mischief as you peer up at him in the dim lighting. You’re so close that the sweet scent of your shampoo cuts through the mustiness like a balm.

His brows raise in amusement. “Think it’s worse than the Ozarks?”

It’s an inside joke the two of you share: the worst place you’ve been on a mission together.

You chew your lip as you consider the question; then, “Close.”

“Good morning,” comes a cheery voice from the reception desk, and Bucky looks over to find a new face there, a plump older woman smiling at him. She’s a far cry from the pimpled teenage boy who gave you the keys last night, the one who checked out your cleavage in the process.

Not that you noticed, because the look Bucky shot him was enough to make him stop.

“Morning, ma’am,” he greets pleasantly. “We’re here for breakfast.” An elbow nudges him in the ribs, prompting him to clarify in annoyance, “The muffins.”

She nods. “Of course! Follow me.”

As she leads the two of you to the breakfast room – back through a hallway behind the reception desk, because that’s not weird at all – Bucky mouths, “Really?” at you over his shoulder.

You just give him an innocent little shrug in return, like you didn’t elbow him in the ribs. Then you gesture to the long hallway and mouth back, “What the hell?”

Now it’s his turn to shrug. The two of you have stayed in your fair share of dives, but this place is in a class of its own. It’s bizarre, and the breakfast room is even worse: tiny, with a shoddy plastic table set up on one side, opposite an empty wall covered in paintings that are probably older than he is. There’s also nowhere to sit, because the room’s too small for that.

Thankfully, the muffins do look appealing. They’re large and varied and stacked high on two serving platters, and he has to wonder how many of the guests actually take up the motel on their offer. A quick check of his watch indicates that it’s a little after eight; maybe the two of you are just the first to arrive.

“Enjoy,” says the woman – Bucky glimpses her nametag, then, which reads Judy – and after he offers her a nod in thanks, she heads back down the hallway to the front desk.

“Thank you,” you call out behind her, awkwardly, and he stifles a laugh.

This room – or should he say closet? – doesn’t smell so musty. Not like the rest of the place. It’s the one silver lining, he supposes, because nothing else about it is very appealing. Next to the muffins sit two diner-style coffee pots in their cradles, as well as a stack of styrofoam cups, some cream and sugar, and a bowl of fruit.

So much for a continental breakfast. There’s barely anything here.

After he selects a particularly red apple, Bucky pulls two cups from the stack and deadpans, “Happy now?”

You beam at him. “Delighted.”

“You’re an idiot,” he tells you, pointedly, which only makes you smile more. That’s when he makes sure to grab the caffeinated coffee pot, because he can already tell it won’t be worth the lack of caffeine otherwise – which is what he desperately needs right now in order to deal with you.

“Yeah,” you say through a mouthful of blueberry muffin, “but I’m your idiot.”

Bucky’s heart stutters inside of his chest, and he very nearly spills the coffee he’s pouring.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

But he doesn’t spill a drop, and soon he’s got two styrofoam cups of lukewarm coffee in hand as he makes his way over to where you’re leaning against the wall. Both have equal amounts of cream and sugar to dilute the taste, so he chooses one at random to offer you.

“You’re gonna choke if you keep stuffing your face like that. Here.”

It’s not an order, exactly, but you accept the cup from him anyway and take a sip. Bucky can tell the moment it hits your tastebuds because you immediately make a face.

“Worse than the Ozarks?” he suggests again, with a teasing lilt.

“Oh yeah,” you reply with a grimace. “At least the muffins aren’t bad.” To prove your point, you break off a piece with your thumb and forefinger and hold it out to him expectantly.

This is commonplace. It’s normal. It’s casual, but he pauses; there’s a look in your eyes he doesn’t recognize, something dark, hungry, and he feels the heat start to creep up his neck.

Why do you keep looking at him like that?

When he hesitantly opens his mouth, you feed the piece of muffin to him. Of course you do, but your fingertip lingers a little too long – and his tongue slowly licks the crumbs away, prompting a sharp intake of breath from you.

This isn’t normal.

It’s only when you chew your lip and pull away does the spell break. Bucky immediately averts his eyes – winds up staring down into his cup of coffee like he’s just gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have, but the reprimand he’s expecting to hear doesn’t come.

A crinkle cuts through the silence, and then, “It’s good, right?”

Bucky glances up from his coffee to find that you’re not focused on him, now, but on the wrapper of a banana bread muffin. His face finally flushes hot, almost like it’s been waiting to make sure you’re not looking – and you definitely aren’t. Not now.

It’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating.

“Yeah,” he answers, heart racing inside of his chest. “It’s good.”

And then he takes a sip of coffee, but the only thing he can taste is the sweetness of your skin.

“Have any other rooms opened up?”

Your question to Judy on the way back outside makes his heart sink.

Breakfast didn’t feel quite right after that, but Bucky thought things were fine. At least until you stopped to ask that, anyway. He checks his watch again to distract himself from his nerves; almost nine o’clock now.

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Judy informs you politely. “The convention booked us right up. Probably won’t have any other rooms available until Monday.”

Today is Friday.

Shit.

“That’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

While you offer her a sweet smile to go along with your platitudes, Bucky knows instantly that it’s not a real one because it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s like he’s on autopilot when he opens the door for you this time, because he’s too caught up in his head to even notice.

Was it because of breakfast that you want to switch rooms, or maybe you do know what he was dreaming about this morning and you’re just too nice to say anything—

“Bucky?”

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks down at you to find that your brows are furrowed and you’re asking him a question, now.

“I said, are you okay with staying here one more night? Sorry, I know it’s not ideal. Guess it’s not too comfortable sharing the bed with me, huh?”

An awkward laugh follows your supposed joke, and you briskly rub your arms because it’s a little chilly this morning from the rain.

For a moment, he just stares. How can he do anything else? It takes him a second to process what you’ve asked, what you’ve said; and then he realizes you were looking for another room because you think he’s uncomfortable.

“What are you talking about?” he finally manages.

“Since you got up this morning, you’ve been kind of…” You pause to think of a good word for it, and then you finally say, “off, I guess?” Then you rub the back of your neck, looking about as awkward as he can only imagine you feel. “I don’t blame you. Things were a lot different in the 40s, right, and I pressured you into sleeping with me, didn’t I—”

“You pressured— What?” That’s right. He remembers, then, that it’s anxiety – that you’ve got the same issue he does. You overthink. “Now wait just a damn second, doll. When did I say I wasn’t comfortable?”

Your mouth opens for a few prolonged seconds, and then it shuts, like there’s something on the tip of your tongue that you want to say but you just can’t get it out. Again.

“I slept with you because I wanted to. You sure as hell didn’t have to pressure me into it.” The way he says the word makes it sound like the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, maybe because it is. “Okay?”

The implication of his choice of words and yours hangs heavy in the air as you peer up at him through your lashes – searching for the lie, but there isn’t one. All you’ll find is his honesty, and he assumes you do when you reply, “O...Okay.”

And then, when your search gives way to something darker, baser, Bucky breaks away. He doesn’t know what to do when you look at him that way, but it makes him think of things he absolutely shouldn’t.

“Come on,” he calls over his shoulder, feeling his face flush and his heartbeat quicken. “We’ve gotta get moving.”

He shouldn’t think about you like this.

He’s suffocating.

Part Three

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #no vacancy

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,830 words

warnings — few swear words, a bit of defending jacobs spoilers, not compliant with book/show ending, fluff?? bit of angst???

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — lmao i lied this comes first then in a few i’ll post the final part of public’s eye. if someone reads this pls tell me what youd be more interested in, august walker or steve rogers social media au

masterlist | series masterlist

After proving Jacob’s innocence Andy imagined things would have been smooth-sailing from there. He was wrong.

Laurie asked for a divorce; citing how their marriage was built on a lie and that it was time to be truthful to themselves and to Jacob. They both also agreed that it wasn’t just working anymore, but on Andy’s part he was more than willing to try harder for it to work, but didn't want to push it. He accepted her wishes and didn’t fight for full custody over Jacob — he was more than content with spending weekends and certain holidays with his son. They both moved out of their Newton house and revealed to Andy how they were both relocating to Bakersfield in California; the lawyer being partially surprised with how far they were moving, but ultimately remembered how she had some family members over there.

Before their departure, Andy and Jacob got to bond one last time and somehow their conversation shifted to how the former had no plans of selling the house and moving somewhere else. “Don’t you think you’d be too lonely?”

The blunt question did get Andy thinking but he shrugged it off, “Maybe? I just don’t see myself living anywhere else, I guess.”

Nodding, the boy looked out the window as the Audi drove by. His eyes scanned a big red sign that read “For Rent” and suddenly gave him the idea as he turned to his father, “Or you could put a room up for rent?”

Hitting the brakes smoothly as there was a red light, he turned to his son and looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“Green light,” Jacob informed and Andy nodded as he released his foot off the brake and continued the way home, “Advertise my room, or the spare one, for rent. That way, you know, you won’t really be alone.”

Pursing his lips together, Andy thought about it for a while. Would anyone even one to live there? With him? He didn’t want to seem like he was rejecting his son’s idea or make him feel like he was a fool for coming up with that one so he just found himself nodding, “Sounds like a great idea, pal.”

And when they were back at home, Jacob insisted he help his dad place an advertisement online for the availability of the spare bedroom across Jacob’s. Even though he thought it was a foolish idea, Andy just went along with it for two reasons — one, he just wanted to go along with what his son wanted and make him somewhat happy. And the second one being he was absolutely positive no one would want to live here.

It was a deal too good to be true; surely there had to be a catch? $500 a month for a room that was fully furnished? Maybe the house was just ugly? Or perhaps the room wasn’t really how it was pictured? Either way Y/N found herself messaging the house owner, Andy Barber, and let her know she was interested in checking the place out.

Pulling up in front of the house, Y/N let out a long whistle as she marveled at how the exterior of the house was well-groomed and clean. Exiting her car, she made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell and leaned by one of the columns as she took in the quiet ambiance of the neighborhood. Hearing the door creak upon, she turned around and smiled, “Hi! Are you Andy Barber?”

The bearded man was dressed in a simple ragged t-shirt and a pair of sweats; and despite the impression that he had just woken up, she thought that he had this cute boyish charm to him. “Yeah that’s me, you must be Y/N?” He offered his hand out for a shake, one which the girl enthusiastically shook.

As they both unclasped their hands Y/N wondered, “Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” Her question had him chuckling and she felt her heart warm with how relaxed he looked as he shook his head, “It’s not a bad time, this is just how I normally look.”

He stepped aside so she could come in and take a tour of the house. As Y/N was being shown around the house, she could not prevent her jaw from dropping from how cozy, elegant, and complete everything looked.

“And if you choose to, this is where you’ll be staying,” Andy opened the room to the spare bedroom and led her inside and allowed her to take a look around. It had a bed, a dresser and wardrobe, mirror, a reading chair, and a study desk paired with an office chair.

Turning to the man, “So what’s the catch?” Her question caught him off guard and folded his arms as he tilted his head to the side, “The catch?”

She nodded and looked at him as if she had the telepathic abilities to let him know what she was thinking, “You know, the reason why the rent’s so cheap? Is this house haunted? Do you actually have a rat infestation problem?”

As Andy threw his head back laughing at her suggestions, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this carefree. “No catch,” he explained once he calmed down from laughing and sat down on the reading chair, “Not haunted or rat infestation, really. Just I don’t know,” he struggled to look for the right words as he placed his hands on his thighs and rubbed them, “Put a room up for rent just so I wouldn’t get lonely.”

Y/N leaned by the office desk that was beside the chair Andy was sitting on as she spoke, “Well I liked the place so much; I’m guessing that means you won’t have to be alone?”

Looking up at her Andy smiled, “That’s great then, let me get the spare house key for you.”

“I hope I don’t seem too fast or what, but I hope you don’t mind if I move my things up already? I have all my belongings in the car.”

Andy nodded, “Oh no worries about it, let me help you get your stuff.”

For the next couple of hours, Y/N settled her things around the room. She placed her clothes on the dresser and wardrobe. Settled her pictures and other stationery items on the desk. Attaching the house keys to the keychain she had which contained her keys and skipped her way down the stairs.

Seeing how Andy was by his office area she asked, “Oh by the way I forgot to ask, are you allergic to something?”

“Planning to kill me already huh?” He joked as he looked at her pointedly to which she rolled her eyes at, “No, dummy. I was planning on cooking dinner.”

“Nope, not allergic to anything,” he clarified and she smiled and waved goodbye. Looking at her retreating form, Andy shook his head as he took note of how silly his new roommate was. He buried himself with preparing his things for office as Y/N went around to explore her new neighborhood’s grocery store.

Dozing off in the bedroom, Andy woke up once a savory and aromatic smell hit his nostrils. Rubbing off the sleep in his eyes, he sat up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table and took note of how it was already 5:30 in the evening. Slept longer than I thought I would, he thought to himself as he left the comfort of his bedroom and headed to see the source of the fantastic smell.

Upon reaching the kitchen he was greeted with the sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, “What’s all this commotion about?”

Stopping her movements from stirring the pot, she smiled, “Cooking dinner; made carbonara,” she pointed to the pot she was currently attending to, “Baked some garlic bread,” she pointed to the pyrex container which had a few loaves of bread in it, “And some chicken tenders as well, because I was craving.”

Nodding, he grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite of it to which she gasped, “Andy! Couldn’t even wait a few more minutes!” The taller man could only sheepishly smile with his mouth full of chicken, “Sorry ‘bout that, want me to set the table?”

“Please do. Oh and I noticed you had a certain beer in the fridge so I hope you don’t mind I bought you a pack?” As she mentioned that he did see a new, unopened pack next to the single beer he had left inside the fridge. “Thanks for that; red wine your poison?” He inquired since he noticed a wine bottle he surely never bought. Seeing her nod, he asked if she wanted a glass to which she said yes to. In the next few minutes a comfortable silence engulfed them as they both were focused on preparing their first meal together.

Once everything was put in place they both sat across each other, Y/N placed her hands under her chin and looked at Andy with an excited look in her eyes, the man raised his brow at her, asking her nonverbally what she was looking at him for. “Go ahead, try it,” she softly encouraged him to which he nodded and swirled his fork around the pasta which the white sauce had already clung into and opened his mouth to taste.

“It’s good,” he complimented her as he swallowed, “Better than anything I’ve eaten in the past few months.” She clapped her hands and started to eat as well. “I was surprised to see your lack of groceries.”

He waited until his mouth was empty from eating the garlic bread she had before explaining, “Don’t really cook a lot; survived off takeout recently.” Despite having her mouth full with a tender, a loud shock was emitted from the woman across and Andy lightly cuckold at how adorable her reaction was.

“Lucky for you, I love to cook so you won’t be filling yourself up with that junk,” she assured him as she drank from her glass of wine. Setting his fork down he looked at her skeptical, “What brings you to Newton anyway?”

Her hands tore the garlic bread as she gulped down her drink, “Just finished college then found a job here so there’s that.”

“Which program did you take?” He wondered; not knowing if it was his curiosity about someone living in his house or it was the lawyer in him couldn’t help but question everything.

“Took a few years off after high school to know what I really wanted to do; then just took a two year course,” she further explained as she told him which degree she chose. Somehow her answer just had Andy even more interested so he pried, “Why not get a full degree?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to waste four years of my life.”

“Would four years really be wasted if you spent it studying something you’re interested in?” he retorted back as he took a swig of his beer.

“Touché,” she acknowledged as she gobbled some pasta, “But I don’t know, I just feel like the time I’m spending on studying would be better spent if I was actually doing something I want. Get a job I wanna do. Visit every state in the country. Get a house with a pool. You know, just do things that make me happy without having any regrets”

As she listed off the things she desired in life, a solemn expression graced Andy’s face. Her perspective did make him think about how he lived his own life as well. Perhaps how there were certain choices that did make him happy and somehow there were regrets lingering in his mind. “And have you done any of those?”

“Well obviously I don’t have a house,” she joked as she waved her hand around Andy’s home, “But I did get a job here that I think I’ll enjoy, an 8-5 kind,” she paused for a while to gulp down more of the red wine she bought, “What about you?”

“What about me “ he questioned back as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She rolled her eyes jokingly, “What’s your story, I guess? What brought you here in Newton?”

Her naivety had him questioning whether or not she knew the whole ordeal that his family went through; but he spared her of the full details, maybe next time or once he felt like he could fully trust her he’d tell her everything. “Had family here with me, but not anymore,” her eyes widened in shock with what he revealed but he was quick to reassure her, “I'm divorced now, ex-wife has full custody of our son. Used to be an assistant district attorney, now I’m just in private practice for civil litigation cases.”

Somehow, Andy felt a weight unload once he told her about him. Though granted it wasn’t the whole thing, but having someone to talk did make him feel lighter, more human. Y/N, on the other hand, felt amazed with how Andy chose to carry on despite what he’s been through. She got the feeling there was more to it than what he let on; and pity was not what she felt but more of feeling happy with how he did not give up and instead keep on going.

Holding her glass she raised it, “Here’s to new beginnings and being single then,” she toasted. Smiling, he raised his beer bottle and brought it to touch against her glass, “To new beginnings and being single.” The two then proceeded to finish the rest of their meal in silence.

The sun was shining bright that Monday morning and Andy woke up early to head down to their basement and do his morning exercise. Thirty minutes into it, he could sense that Y/N had woken up not only due to her footsteps he heard, but also because he could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

As he finished his workout, he headed up to his room to take a quick shower and dress up for his work. Granted it might have been too early to do all those but the smell of the food and the company of which he’d be eating breakfast enticed him to do so. Heading down, he was dressed in his full lawyer gear, minus the jacket, and smiled as he saw Y/N eating the rest of her pancakes by the breakfast bar.

“Morning Andy,” she greeted him, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like,” she pointed to where she had just gotten a cup for herself as well. “Thank you,” he then moved to get himself a cup and once he did he took note of a plate that had a couple of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Pointing to it he accused her, “It’s as if you want me to waste the workout I just did huh.” She threw her head back in laughter at what he said while shaking his head to tell him that it wasn’t her intention. Glancing down on her wrist watch she mumbled a soft, “Shit,” upon noticing the time. Stacking her mug on the plate she moved to the sink where Andy grabbed the cutlery and utensils from her, “Let me do it and go ahead.”

Placing a hand on his forearm — in which they both felt relaxed and warm at their first touch — she thanked him for doing so and grabbed her bag that she placed on the couch. “Good luck on your first day,” Andy called out as he began munching on his own food. She yelled a quick thanks and see you as she closed the door behind her. Staring down on his plate, he smiled again upon seeing how the food in his plate resembled a smiley face; She really is something, he thought to himself.

The rest of the week flew by and both Andy and Y/N spent the week almost doing everything together. The former would wake up early and get his workout down; and sometime during the 45 minutes he’d spend on the basement the latter would take that time to prepare herself for the day ahead as well as the most important meal for their day. And if there were leftovers from the night before or that she had made too much for breakfast and was able to whip it into something for lunch, then she packed those not only for her, but for Andy as well.

And their routine together did not just stop there it bled into the night as well. Where it was always Y/N who came home first. After taking a bath either she’d start cooking supper or she would clean around the house a little — she noticed how Andy’s office area was frequently messy and she did her best to fix the mess without being too intrusive about it. She never step foot in his room, wanting him to have his privacy, but from what she could see he kept it organized despite having a few trash here and there, so she didn’t really loiter in that area of the house.

In hindsight, Y/N didn’t have to cook and clean for Andy. But with how low her rent was she felt that it was only fair to do so. Plus there was a part of her that somehow liked being around him, having someone to talk to about everything and anything they both could think of. There was never really a dull conversation between them.

Friday night arrived and instead of cooking another meal Y/N decided to get a pizza, wings, and another pack of beer for Andy. As she was in the liquor portion of the grocery she bumped into one of their neighbors, Joan RIfkin, whom she also recognized as one of the friends of her workmate.

“Y/N, right?” the woman asked as she looked at her with concern. “Yeah, that’s me. We met through Emily, when you helped her get to work,” Y/N recalled, both for her and Joan.

“Is it true that you live with Andy?” her question had Y/N wondering, how the hell did she know that? Despite that thought she nodded, “Room was cheap so I thought why not?”

Her nervous chuckle could not ease the tension between the two ladies; especially when Joan gave her a stern look as she warned her, “Be careful, okay? The Barber’s caused quite a ruckus and Andy is quite unpredictable.”

As Joan walked away while pushing her cart, Y/N was left confused and conflicted. The new information presented to her, though it was vague, left her puzzled about whether or not it was true. She was also unsure about the need to clarify with Andy what she has just been told.

Once his car was parked in the garage, Andy loosened his tie and entered the house. What greeted him was not the sight of Y/N cooking but her sitting on the couch while scrolling through her phone. Placed in the coffee table was a pizza box, his usual beer, a glass of wine, and box of chicken wings as well as a couple of paper plates.

“Didn’t feel like cooking today huh?” he jeered as he placed a hand on his hip, the other hand holding his briefcase for work. Diverting her eyes from her phone to the man in front she grinned at him, “No, but I felt like having pizza. Maybe we could watch a movie while eating?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go change quickly,” he told her and she nodded. Andy then went up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to do so. Somehow there was this part of him that was incredibly excited at the thought of being physically close with Y/N. but he just shook his head at the thought and claimed that he was just excited to unwind the week’s stress with food, beer, and a movie.

Heading down after he dressed in more comfortable clothes he asked, “Alright, what are we watching?” Y/N shrugged as she moved to open the box of pizza, “Want a slice?” Andy nodded as he grabbed the remote and thanked her, “You heard about the hippie who burnt his mouth on the pizza?”

While holding a pizza slice of her own she looked at him and tilted her head to the side, her face being a combination of confusion and curiosity, one that Andy found charming. The bearded man had his face in faux seriousness as he continued, “He ate it before it was considered cool.”

Upon realizing the joke, Y/N let out a few giggles — real giggles, Any took note. “Okay not gonna lie, that was good,” she took a bite, “ Haven’t heard that one before.” Saying that made Andy feel proud, somehow his lame dad jokes made this brilliant woman laugh. “You wanna watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?”

She nodded at his suggestion, “Yeah why not? Haven’t watched that in a while.” And so they both began to watch it as they ate and drank.

As they watched the film their occasional laughs were the only sound emitted from the two. As Andy was grabbing for a few slices or chicken wings, he found himself scooting closer beside Y/N, who didn’t really mind it and instead found having him close was comforting. The wartm that seeped past his clothed thigh and on to her bare skin as she was only wearing shorts made her feel safe. And somehow Andy’s arm found itself draped across the couch, almost touching Y/N’s shoulders, his fingers almost touching her. When she did move to drink her wine her skin touched the tips of his fingers rested on her shoulders and Andy who drank some of his beer as well looked alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I can move away if you’d like,” he said as he began to remove his hand from where it was comfortable in her shoulder. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him a little too quickly, “I mean, I don’t really mind. I’m not the type of person who hates hugging so I don’t really mind at all.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from physically cringing with what she said and how stupid it must have soounded like; but the man beside her didn’t think so based on his eyes crinkled in laughter. His arm then dropped from being on her shoulders and settled itself on her waist and pulled him as close as they could be sitting beside, “Well I hope you won’t mind if I do this then?”

She felt herself flutter with how smooth the man was and just silently assured him by placing her head against his shoulder, both turning their attention back to the movie.

As the end credits rolled, they both were full and were just now finishing up the last of the drinks. Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she had an internal debate about whether or not she should bring up her conversation with Joan earlier.

“You alright, Y/N?” Andy noticed how her actions might have indicated how she was nervous, a complete opposite to how she was earlier. Setting down his empty bottle on the coffee table, he turned to her and grasped both her hands in his, loving the feel of her soft hands against his calloused ones.

“It’s just, there’s something I need to ask,” she sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if it would have helped her say it better, “No, not really ask, but tell you. I don't know.” Her hesitation and uncertainty was something Andy easily sensed and he did his best to calm her down by rubbing their hands together and telling her she could tell him anything.

“So after work, I headed to the grocery to grab your beer, right? Then I saw Joan there, I don’t know her surname though. Anyway, she warned me to be careful of you because you’re unpredictable and that your family had caused a ruckus?” She ended her encounter with the woman by looking up at Andy, and the latter was surprised that there was no disgust in her tone and facial expressions; but more of worry? As if she was worried that rumors were spreading around about him and his family.

He stopped rubbing her hands and instead settled with fiddling with them, “I think it’s best if you found out now,” he began before taking a deep breath, “Almost two years ago, Ben Rifkin, a fourteen year old boy, died. At the time I was the assistant district attorney and was assigned to investigate. When fingerprints of my son, Jacob, were found in the body everyone assumed he did it.”

“Did he?” Y/N question when she noticed it took Andy sometime to continue with his story. Shaking his head no he picked up where he left off the story, “He didn’t, his fingerprints were there because he just saw the body, panicked and didn’t call the police. A man who had a record for groping and stalking kids did it. But Joan, Ben’s mom was still convinced that Jacob had something to do with her son’s death even after it was proved that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about that Andy, she has no right to name you and your family those things,” Y/N was quick to comfort him. But he only chuckled sadly, “Does she not?” She could feel that there was more Andy wanted to say so she remained silent, “During the trial and investigation, they were fully convinced Jacob did it because of me, of my father.”

He said those three words with so much hate and disdain, “My estranged father, rather, he raped and killed some student many years ago. Now he’s serving a life sentence for it. They claimed that I had this murder gene and somehow Jacob got it too, hence why he killed Ben.”

After hearing his explanation, Y/N now understood why Joan claimed Andy was unpredictable. She also empathize with the mother who lost her son and understood why she felt this indifference towards the Barbers; but she still believed that maybe Joan would someday accept that the what they’ve been believing — that Jacob had any involvement for her son’s death — is nothing but mere suspicion that was proved false.

“I mean, I understand why she holds this sort of grudge against you or your family,” Andy’s heart dropped at what Y/N said and loosened his grip on her hands, prepared to hear her say how she wanted to leave his house that somewhat felt like home ever since she came, “But it’ll take time for her to accept the truth and disregard the suspicion she had. I believe in what you say and do think that you are harmless.”

Her statement had Andy looking up from where he was staring at their hands and looked up at her with relief in his face, “What?” He could not help but sound meek as he asked so; but he felt the opposite, he felt empowered and invincible upon knowing that there was someone on his side for once.

Deciding to do something risky, Y/N leaned forward to plant a gentle and comforting kiss on Andy’s forehead, “What happened to Joan’s son was horrible, yes. But if you say, and an investigation says your son had nothing to do with it, then I believe it. And murder gene? The only thing that a gene can pass down to us is sickness,” she joked, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and was pleased to see how Andy laughed softly at it,”You’re not what your father did, okay? The only way to define you is through what you say, think, and do.”

Andy smiled as he stared at her lovingly, “And if I think and tell you that you’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and that it's been great having you here live with me?” She laughed as she rested her cheek against her hand and sassed at him, “I’d call bullshit ‘cause you probably used that line with your wife.”

He just rolled his eyes as he moved her around so she could comfortably lay her head against his chest as he wrapped his muscular arms around her frame. “Well then I’m just gonna have to do my best to prove it to you the entire time you’re here then.”

Turning her head so she could face him, “Well joke’s on you, I plan to be here for quite a long time.” The butterflies in Andy’s stomach then went wild at what she said, but his composure allowed him to answer back with, “I don’t mind that at all, honey.”

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he then teased her about the grin she had on her face and two then talked the rest of the night away.

part two

#quietmyfearswith #My writing #andy barber angst #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber fanfic #andy barber x you #andy barber fluff #andy barber smut #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction

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reinerispretty · 4 years ago

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt 7

hello!! thank you all so much for reading my story, i super appreciate it, you have no idea! from the last chapter i guess you’ve kinda maybe sorta started to notice a little something happening there. but don’t worry, we’ll get where we need to be :) please share if you can!!

pt 1

pt 6

pt 8

“Yes, yes, I’ve joined the Avatar, I’m betraying my country, I’m a dishonor to everyone, blah, blah, blah. You can’t tell me anything that I haven’t already heard from your brother.”

“I actually think it’s quite admirable that you chose to become a traitor. It shows that you’ve developed more of a backbone than I ever thought you could. I’m a bit sad that we have to end your life. I always looked forward to having you as a sister.”

(Y/N) was panicking. She had not anticipated that when she came to Omashu with Aang, Katara, and Sokka, that she would be face to face with some of her oldest friends. It had been years since she had seen Mai, Ty Lee, or Azula, but she had always imagined their reunion going a bit differently than this current one, which involved her friends from her past attacking her current friends. But, she supposed, traitors can’t be choosers.

“Isn’t this a special treat?” Azula drawled. “It’s so good to see old friends.” The young princess had grown so much since they had last seen each other. She was fourteen now and her face contained the same ruthlessness as her fathers.’ If (Y/N) was being honest, Azula intimidated her, but there was no way she would let her know that.

“Azula,” she said, nodding at her old friend. Katara and Sokka looked at her, their expressions riddled with surprise.

“I’d heard rumors that you had become a traitor. I wanted to see it with my own eyes, of course. You know how vicious gossip can get.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Yes, yes, I’ve joined the Avatar, I’m betraying my country, I’m a dishonor to everyone, blah, blah, blah. You can’t tell me anything that I haven’t already heard from your brother.”

The comment caught Mai off-guard, causing the stoic girl to break her gaze from the group to glance at Azula. (Y/N) noticed this instantly. If there was one advantage she had over their enemies, it was being able to tell when they faltered. She shot a flame at Mai, who barely had enough time to dodge it. The fight had begun, and while she and her friends focused on fighting Mai and Ty Lee, Azula slipped away to go after Aang.

The four heroes managed to escape their attackers, but the fight had bothered (Y/N) to her core. If there hadn’t been already, there was no doubt that the Fire Nation was now going to put a bounty on her head. And seeing Azula stirred up similar feelings that she had experienced whenever she saw Zuko. As evil as she had become, it still hurt to fight against her. She had been a troubled child for sure, but (Y/N) had had many good times with her. There were sleepovers where they giggled into the early hours of the morning. Too many secret handshakes and inside jokes to count. While Zuko had become her best friend, she had also become close to Azula as well. Up until the moment she left the Fire Nation, she had considered Azula to be like a sibling. A crazy and evil sibling, but still a sibling nonetheless.

The hunt for Aang’s earthbending teacher did well to take her mind off of things. After their terrifying time in the swamp, it was nice to return to civilization in the Earth Kingdom. The city eventually led them to the underground earthbending competitions, where a small girl reigned supreme over earthbenders twice her size. The event had made (Y/N) a bit uncomfortable, as she wasn’t used to have two-ton rocks flying at her face every second, but who was she to complain?

They tracked the girl back to her home and learned that she was a member of the Beifong family, one of the wealthiest families in the entire Earth Kingdom. They had been invited to join the family for dinner and (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder if the actual members of the Earth Kingdom could tell she was a fraud. Her green tunic and pants were burnt at the edges from her firebending and she felt like they were eyeing her suspiciously.

“So, (Y/N),” asked Toph’s father, Lao. “I see you’ve traveled far in your journeys with the Avatar. Tell me, where in the Earth Kingdom are you from?”

“Oh, a small town,” she waved a hand to signify its unimportance. “I doubt you’d even know it.”

Lao Beifong raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“She’s a refugee!” Sokka shouted.

“She’s homeless!” Aang shouted at the same time. (Y/N) put her head in her hands.

“She’s a homeless refugee,” Katara clarified, smiling pleasantly at the Beifongs. “We picked her up off the streets when we were passing through her village. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say you picked me up off the streets, but--”

“I remember the day she was begging me for coins like it was yesterday,” Sokka sighed. (Y/N) kicked him from under the table. He tried his best to suppress his yelp.

“How lucky you are to have the Avatar and his companions save you!” Toph’s mother said. (Y/N) glared at her friends.

“Oh yeah. So lucky.”

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

Despite their efforts to convince the Beifongs to let Toph accompany them on their journey, and the fact that they had literally saved her life, the group of four was banished from ever returning to the Beifong residence. They were practically thrown out of the house by the guards and were left to continue on their journey.

“It’s okay Aang,” Katara said to her friend. “We’ll find someone to be your earthbending teacher.”

“No one like her,” Aang sighed. He felt defeated and every one of his friends felt the same. Even Momo’s ears were less perkier than usual.

“This is exactly why I hate stuffy rich people,” (Y/N) said haughtily as they walked up the hill to Appa. “They think they know what’s best for everyone.”

“Weren’t you a stuffy rich person?” Aang asked.

“I think that’s besides the point.”

“Hey, wait up!” Toph shouted as she ran to catch up with them. She carried a knapsack over her shoulder. “My parents changed their minds! They said I could come with you!”

“That’s amazing!” Aang cheered.

(Y/N) pursed her lips. She knew how rich people acted. She had grown up around them her whole life. They never changed their minds. Not unless someone richer than them told them to. She could tell Toph was lying, but she understood why. Her parents treated her like she was helpless and wouldn’t let them out of her sight. In reality, Toph was anything from it. She was tougher than all four of them combined.

She climbed Appa and reached down to help Katara get up. “Alright, let’s get ready to go! We’ve got an Avatar to teach.”

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie , @haylaansmi , @jada-cleo , @boxofteenageideas , @disgruntled-gay , @lie-ana , @jasmine-the-amazing , @svsoftie , @buckysfeet , @anime-simp , @imcravingyou , @rosetheshapeshifter , @alrightberries , @izzieserra , @hstott , @random-stupid-stuffs , @jackbamexpress , @jainaixo , @thefoxskinwalker , @kryptidkova ,

#avatar #atla #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #katara x reader #aang x reader #toph #katara #aang #sokka #zuko #azula #iroh #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

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aomine-ryo · 4 years ago

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Idk exactly what was my request but I have the main idea of it so it's not big deal and you shouldn't feel bad for your accident with asks ! I think mine was scenarios or hdcs for Midorima, Kise and Aomine being in couple with a sexy fem!s/o ! she's rather hot than cute, seem independant and older than a girl of their ages so before get to know her they assumed she was their Senpai while she isn't.. and that reader who get bad bitch vibes envy cutes girls. Also can it contain slight nsfw?thx!

Oh right I remember this request! I’m sorry about earlier ahsjs. I’m not 100% confident as to whether I answered this right, but I hope you like it anyways xx

Headcanons: Midorima, Kise and Aomine with a fem!s/o who they thought was older

Midorima

The two of you didn’t really know each other before you started dating

You met at this library that you’d frequent

It took him ages to muster the courage to talk to you in the first place because he thought you were so hot that you were almost unapproachable

You were browsing through the books in one aisle and you spotted him reaching for one of your favourites, so you decided to strike up a conversation

When I say that Midorima got flustered, I mean flustered— bright red cheeks and all

The two of you began to talk a lot after that

You went to different schools so Midorima didn’t know how old you were

He assumed you were probably a third year that he had no chance with, so he felt that his fantasies of dating you would remain as fantasies

“So are your studies tougher in third year?” he asked you one day in attempt to get a conversation going

“Huh? Wait, you think I’m a third year?” you replied, chuckling a bit

“Are you not? Oh God, I’m sorry for assuming,” Midorima apologised quickly feeling incredibly embarrassed

“It’s alright. I’m a first year like you by the way,” you informed

And now he was surprised and embarrassed

It became slightly easier for him to talk to you after he realised that you were the same age

Soon enough you became very close and began to date as well

Sometimes he completely forgets that you’re not older than him because you just seemed so much more mature

Especially when things would get a bit more heated between you two

It was incredibly easy for you to turn him on because he just thought you looked so sexy all the time

Something about girls that were more mature really got him going

And of course, you certainly moved like you had experience and Midorima couldn’t get enough of it

Kise

You and Kise met at a photoshoot for a magazine since you were both models

The moment Kise laid his eyes upon you, he was absolutely smitten

You were hot, and everyone including Kise saw that

In his eyes, you looked much older because of how sultry and independent you looked

It kind of made him nervous to talk to you, which was new to Kise

Of course, he was still able to make conversation because well, he’s Kise

The girls he’s come across before were often cute, but it was rare that he found someone that was sexy to him

Even the way you talked was cool and attractive and Kise found himself hooked onto you

Being dressed up in the outfits for the photoshoot often amplified Kise's adoration for you

They somehow managed to make you look even hotter

'How is that even possible??' Kise thought to himself

Kise, being the smooth talker he is, managed to get you to agree to go on a date with him

It was a really fun time and you even ended up going back to your place since your parents weren’t home

The two of you completely clicked when you were in bed

Your lips moved in sync and Kise was in awe at the way your body looked as well as the sounds you made

There was no way you were the same age as him

No one he knew could move the way you did

Needless to say, you both had a great time and continued to go out with each other

He finally found out about your actual age after about one week of dating you

You were filling up a form for something in his presence and he just watched as you scribbled your information down

When he noticed that you were born in the same year as he was, he let out the loudest “What??” you’ve ever heard

You didn’t know what was going on, so his sudden outburst made you jump

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, slightly worried

“We’re the same age?” he exclaimed

“Well yeah, what did you think?” you nodded, still confused

“I thought you were older than me!”

“Really? Is that an insult? Do I have wrinkles?” you asked, beginning to get scared yourself

“No no no, not like that! You’re just so much hotter than girls my- our age. I just assumed you were older. You don’t have wrinkles, don’t worry,” he clarified

After that, you found it rather funny

You began to laugh at Kise’s reaction, which made him super embarrassed

“Y/N-cchi, stop laughing! I’m dumb, I get it!” he pouted like a child

You teased him about it for a while after that, but only because you found his reactions adorable

Aomine

You were the manager of a team that played against Touou and you met Aomine at a match

Aomine could barely concentrate on the game because he found you so hot

It was okay though because he didn’t have to try too hard to win

You seemed so badass and cool that Aomine absolutely had to talk to you after the game

“Should I really be going out with the ace of the team that just beat us?” you said to him with a small grin after he asked you out

“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged. “I’m sure we can have some fun.”

You found him very attractive, so you just decided to go along with it

Aomine of course, was very pumped about being able to go out with someone that he thought was older

You just gave off this mature and effortlessly cool energy that he was instantly drawn to

You weren’t one to sleep around in your very first date, but Aomine was an awfully smooth talker to the point where you swayed and made an exception

And my god, he was amazing

Aomine found that evening to be one of the best experiences he’s ever had with a girl

Unlike most girls he’s been with, you knew your way around, maybe even more so than he did

And at this point he was convinced that you were older— you just had to be

He knew that he shouldn’t let you get away because no one made him feel as good as you did

You were totally irresistible to him

However, Aomine is practically the epitome of oblivious when it comes to most things, including your age

He believed that you were older than him for a good month of dating you before finding out

And he didn’t even find out for himself

It was Momoi who brought it up when you met her for the first time

“So, Y/N, which school do you go to?” Momoi asked you

“Oh, I’m a first year at Seijo High,” you replied

Aomine began to choke on the water he was sipping upon hearing your response

“Ahem, first year?” he coughed in surprise. “You’re kidding right?”

“No? Why would I lie about that?”

“I thought you were older than me,” Aomine mumbled, beginning to feel slightly embarrassed

“Dai-chan, you’ve been dating her for a month now, how did you not know this?” Momoi sighed, feeling the need to apologise to you on behalf of Aomine

“Shut up, she’s just really hot, I thought that she couldn’t be the same age as me,” he huffed

“Should I be thanking you for saying that?” you joked, making him groan because he just wanted to move on from the conversation

You eventually did move on though, but it didn’t fully register in his head that you weren’t older

Sometimes he’d just think you were older especially when things got more frisky— he thought it was much hotter that way

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #aomine daiki #kise ryouta #midorima shintarou #kuroko no basket headcanons #kuroko no basket x reader #generation of miracles

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years ago

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The worst idea

Summary: After an afternoon of intense sex in the storm, Freed discovers he's not the only one who has caught a fever. So, he goes to his boyfriend to take care -and make fun- of him. [Freed/Gajeel]

Link: AO3

Notes: It's nothing special but I hope you enjoyed it.

The worst idea

“Fuck” Freed swore panting on the grass. He was muddy, naked, the rain kept beating on him, the wind was blowing hard and he didn't give a damn. He was still lost in pleasure after having perhaps the most incredible sex of his life. He turned his head wearily to Gajeel and smiled to see him in the same condition. The boy was sweating, dirty and with rain-soaked hair. His torso was full of marks and scratches Freed had left, and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“Fuck it was great,” Gajeel said turning his face to Freed. He smiled blissfully and kissed him. They were both exhausted, so the kiss was sloppy and only lasted a few seconds. Also because now they were both starting to feel cold given the states they were in in the midst of the storm.

“I think we should go home before we get sick,” Freed said, forcing himself to sit up and Gajeel did the same. They looked at each other for a moment as thunder rumbled above them and the rain poured down. Neither of them bothered to get dressed, also because half of the clothes had ended up torn and the other half was lost in the storm.

Gajeel tilted his head to the side and grinned.

“This was the best idea I've ever had.” Freed had nothing to argue.

***

That had been the worst idea Gajeel had ever had. Freed knew this. He had known it from the moment the boy had proposed it. He had also said it: having sex in the middle of a storm was a crazy idea. A crazy idea that only that beast of his boyfriend could have. Yet Freed had accepted.

He had been an idiot, because Gajeel had instigated him on purpose by saying that a little-prince like him wouldn’t have taken the blow. Freed hadn't been able to help himself at that point. He knew it was a clear instigation and he knew he would regret it. At that moment, however, he had wanted to prove to Gajeel that he wasn’t a fucking little-prince.

And ok, maybe he had also given up because Gajeel was hot at that moment. Very hot. God, if only Freed thought back to what his boyfriend had looked like with his soaked hair and wet tank top attached to his body, he could get hard again. Especially if he thought about how it ended later, rolling in the grass tearing each other's clothes off.

He had been stupid. Only Gajeel could drag him to do something like that. And now Freed obviously had a fever.

Fuck.

If Gajeel had found out he’d have teased Freed to no end, repeating that he was weak as a little-prince. Freed wanted to avoid that situation at all costs.

That's why he hadn't told anyone he was sick, not even Bickslow or Evergreen. He had shut himself up in the house and filled himself with healing herbs. Luckily, he had a lot of them in stock. He just hoped that no one would ask questions and that it would pass quickly. In any case, he could have said that he had been busy with some ancient and complex translation.

Freed thus spent three days barely standing. He ate little, slept most of the time, and stuffed himself with healing herbs. When Evergreen came to his house to find out why he was no longer in the guild, Freed managed to calm her down by saying that he’d had stressful days. It was a lie, but for a good purpose. Neither he nor Gajeel wanted to go public with their relationship yet, they were both very reserved. Besides, he certainly couldn't tell her that he had caught a fever after having sex in the storm. The girl would look at him as if he had gone mad. Maybe he really was since he had started dating Gajeel.

In any case, the three days passed and Freed began to feel better again. So, even though he hadn't fully recovered, he returned to the guild, hoping he hadn't raised any doubts in that beast of his boyfriend.

But when he arrived in the guild, Gajeel wasn’t there. At first, he thought he was in the library with Levy or doing some stupid challenge with Natsu. But the two wizards were there, while there wasn’t even a shadow of Gajeel. And he couldn't even have taken a mission, since Panther Lily was there too. In fact, it was strange that the Exceed was there without the Dragon Slayer.

Freed tried not to think about it and spent the afternoon with Bickslow and Evergreen, until curiosity got the better of him and he approached Panther Lily, finding him in a moment that he was alone.

“It's weird not seeing you with Gajeel,” he said pretending indifference. The Exceed looked up at him and smiled slightly.

“He's home with a fever,” he explained. Freed was surprised for a moment and Panther Lily widened his smile becoming amused. “From one night he came home soaked and scratched. He must have had an intense fight with a demon,” he added derisively. Freed remained silent again, hoping that the warmth he felt in his cheeks wouldn’t turn into an intense blush. So Panther Lily knew. It wasn't even that strange, he lived with Gajeel and he wasn't stupid.

“I understand,” he said.

“Well, I'm going fishing with Happy today. Hope someone will take care of Gajeel” said that, Panther Lily stood up and walked away towards the blue cat. Freed stood for a moment motionless. Had he just told him to go look after Gajeel? He hadn't been with him for a long time yet, they didn't have all that confidence, and proud as he was probably Gajeel would have kicked his ass out saying that he didn't need any help.

Freed smiled. It would have been fun.

***

When he got to Gajeel's apartment, Freed had to knock three times before the boy came to open the door. As soon as the Dragon Slayer saw that it was him, he was obviously surprised. Freed hadn't gone to his house often, and they usually went together when they knew Panther Lily wasn't there.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Gajeel asked in a snarl. Freed looked at him, he wasn't in his best status, but since he continued to be arrogant, he didn't even have to be that bad. At that point he didn't feel the slightest guilt about making fun of him.

“Panther Lily told me that a little-prince lost a fight to a demon and got sick,” he replied with a provocative smile. Gajeel grunted.

“I'm not in the mood,” he growled. “And you didn't win any fucking fights, you bastard,” he added and started to close the door. Freed put his arm on top of it to keep him from slamming it in his face and was surprised to feel that Gajeel wasn’t pushing as hard as he was. Maybe he was worse off than he showed.

“I haven't won any fight, but in the end you’re the sick one. Come on, I’m here to take care of you,” he said.

“I don't need help,” Gajeel grunted. Freed at that point raised the bag he was holding in his hands and gave a small smile to calm him down a bit.

“I’ve a soup with a mixture of metals that you might like,” he said. That seemed to be the trump card because Gajeel, after sniffing a bit, gave up.

“Good,” he grunted and turned and headed for the kitchen. Freed, finally satisfied, entered his apartment and after closing the door behind him, followed Gajeel. The Dragon Slayer took out a saucepan and placed it on the stove, then took the container from Freed's hands and spilled the contents inside.

“I'll do it, you go lay down,” Freed said.

“I only let you in to eat and for some company,” Gajeel clarified grumpily. “I don't need any help,” he repeated. Freed raised an eyebrow. It was evident that Gajeel wasn’t in the best condition, probably his head was spinning and he just wanted to sleep. He knew the boy was proud, but he really wanted to help him.

“Well, unfortunately for you mine isn't a request, it's an order. Go sit down and don't complain. I cooked this and I bet you don't even know how much you’ve to heat it, with the amount of metal I put in it, you could make a disaster” he said categorically. Gajeel started to reply, but then, maybe out of weariness, maybe because he didn't want to argue, he turned around and without saying anything went back into the living room.

Freed then heated the contents, mixed a little and poked around in Gajeel's cabinets, adding some spice that the Dragon Slayer would have liked and that wouldn’t have made the soup too heavy. Once it was ready, he went back into the living room and noticed that the boy was sitting with his head leaning against a pillow and a grimace on his face. He was paler than before and Freed decided to drop the jokes on the tip of his tongue.

“Here,” he said, sitting next to him and handing him the soup.

“Mpf, hope it's good,” Gajeel muttered taking the plate and Freed snorted lightly.

“A thank you is enough,” he muttered but he knew from experience that Gajeel wouldn’t thank him. Gajeel began to eat and Freed smiled slightly as the Dragon Slayer muttered that it wasn't bad.

“I didn't know you told Panther Lily about us,” he said after a while.

“I didn’t. That damn cat found out for himself,” explained Gajeel. “And he saw me when I came home naked that night. I told him I had fought a monster, but he didn't believe me,” he added. Freed chuckled slightly.

“He really told me you fought a demon,” he said. Gajeel pursed his lips in a grin.

“Well, at least now we can kick him out of the house whenever we want,” he said and walked over to him, running an arm around his waist and pulling him over him. Freed didn't object but turned his head when Gajeel tried to kiss him, so that his lips rested on his cheek. “Don't tell me you're afraid of getting a fever, little-prince,” the Dragon Slayer derisively commented.

“Yes, and here the little-prince is you, since apparently you’re the sick one,” Freed retorted, giving him a light tap on the head. Gajeel snorted.

“Tsk. Shut up”.

Freed widened his smirk.

“Weren't you the one who said only a spoiled little-prince could get a stupid flu having sex in the middle of a storm?” he teased him by repeating the exact words Gajeel had said to him four days earlier.

“Oh, fuck you,” Gajeel snapped and Freed laughed at his pout.

“You expected me to be the sick one, tell the truth,” he said. Gajeel gave him a dirty look.

“Well, you’ve a bit of a cold or am I wrong?” he retorted. Freed frowned slightly, but shrugged.

“Are you comparing a mild cold to horse fever? There’s no story” he said and got up from the sofa to take the thermometer. He tried to take his temperature but Gajeel pushed him badly away.

“I don't need that stuff, I'm fine already,” he said dryly. Freed rolled his eyes.

“Good heavens, stand still and measure your fever. I need to know how high it’s”.

“It's practically over already,” Gajeel grunted.

“God, I don't think I've ever known anyone more stubborn than you,” Freed snapped and forced the thermometer under his armpit, sitting astride him to hold him still and blocking his arm with the hand. Luckily for him Gajeel looked really tired, because he didn't object too much. He knew that if he did, they would start fighting and never finish.

Gajeel scowled at him for a while and Freed challenged him to rebel, knowing full well that in his current states he wouldn’t be able to. After a while, however, Gajeel grinned.

“Well, this position isn’t bad,” he said amused.

“I won't do anything with you sick,” Freed clarified coldly.

“Asshole”.

“Stubborn”.

The thermometer rang and Freed pulled it back and observed that the temperature was quite high. More than 38 and a half degrees, and that idiot was still pretending to be fine. He shook his head in resignation and pulled himself off the couch.

“To bed,” he ordered.

“The fuck, I told you I don't need to sleep,” Gajeel grunted. “And you certainly didn't come here to sleep.”

“I already told you I came here to take care of you. Now shut your mouth and go to bed,” Freed snapped in exasperation. Gajeel grunted but got up a bit shaky and Freed was immediately beside him. Luckily, he didn't refuse his help and luckily in a few seconds he took him to his room. Gajeel stretched out on the bed and snorted, then clapped his hand on the mattress.

Freed took a few seconds to realize it was a way to ask him to lie down next to him, and he obliged. He lay down beside him and pulled the blankets up to cover them both.

“Do you want another blanket?” he asked noticing that Gajeel occasionally had some thrills.

“I want you to stop being so annoying,” was the grumpy reply.

“Why do you have to complicate things like this,” Freed muttered. If he was an asshole, Gajeel was offended, if he was nice, he was offended just the same. He loved his boyfriend, but sometimes he was really unbearable. Gajeel didn't answer and Freed assumed he had fallen asleep. At least he was resting now, it was for the best.

Freed smiled slightly as he listened to his heavy breathing and ran a hand through his hair. There were few sweet moments between them, Gajeel was certainly not a man who loved fuss. And Freed didn't make things easier. They spent their time mainly making fun of themselves, practicing or otherwise always had something to do. But he found himself loving those few moments of peace, before falling asleep with him or after sex. Unless the sex was the wild one they'd had a few days earlier in the middle of a storm.

He smiled in amusement at the memory as he gently ran his hand across Gajeel's arm. He had to admit that ever since he started dating Gajeel, he had really started doing things he never dreamed of doing. He had once let Gajeel drag him to a music festival and, even though it wasn't his kind of man, he’d had a lot of fun.

“No one has ever taken care of me,” Gajeel said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Freed frowned a little, surprised both by the fact that the boy wasn’t sleeping, and by that sudden statement.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a low voice.

“I was raised by a dragon. Not just any dragon, Metallicana. And when he left, I spent my whole life alone. I'm not used to… someone like you. I'm an independent man,” he explained briefly.

Freed remained silent, not quite sure what to say. He understood what Gajeel meant, even Freed had experienced loneliness for a period of his life. While he had met Evergreen, Bickslow and Laxus, however, Gajeel was left alone until he entered Fairy Tail.

He continued to run his fingers through Gajeel's hair in a calming gesture.

“The fact that I take care of you doesn't mean that you aren’t independent or that you’re weak. You’re a strong, proud and skilled man and I know it. That's why I like you. Moments of weakness happen to everyone and precisely because I love you, I want to take care of you when they happen” he said calmly, while a blush filled his face. Gajeel smiled slightly at admission. “And that doesn't make you a little-prince, even if you fell ill in my place,” Freed added in a slightly amused tone, popping him a kiss on the lips.

“Love you too, even if you're an asshole,” Gajeel murmured. Freed just smiled without saying anything, completely in love with the man in front of him and that strangely sweet situation between them. He liked knowing that they could share moments like that too, and that Gajeel felt comfortable enough to talk to him about things he had never told anyone.

“You got a fever too, right?” Gajeel grumbled after a while and Freed frowned slightly.

“Are you delirious?” he asked.

“No” Gajeel smiled without opening his eyes. “But you came here after four days. Knowing your bullshit, you would’ve been here after two hours not seeing me in the guild, just to fool me for as long as possible,” he explained. Freed laughed softly.

“What if it were?” he asked him.

“You remain the little-prince,” Gajeel replied tightening his grip on him. Freed would have liked to argue that at least he was healed after three days, not like Gajeel who was still in bed. Eventually, however, he decided to let it go and curled up against his chest.

“As you like” he murmured and closed his eyes falling asleep next to him shortly after.

#freed justine #gajeel redfox #gajeel x freed #gajeed #freedjeel

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bangchanshehe · 4 years ago

Text

Are You Mine? pt.6

You arrived in Korea to start living your dream, or so you thought until you meet a man that woman dream of throwing themselves on. His entry into your new life takes you down a rocky path where friends will become enemies and foes will make themselves be known.

word count: 2k

The next day things had started without a hitch. You had gone to the company to get your official name badge and started to set up your office so it felt more like your own. You had organized a file on your computer for each other the boys in exo so that you could keep track of each boys schedule, progress with English lessons, and take notes.

The boys’ previous English instructor had sent you an email with references as to where each of the members were as far as studying and materials that you could use during lessons. You had smiled at your desktop and thought back to the day that Baekhyun had asked you to help him with English… if not for that day you wouldn’t be where you are now and you decided that you would thank him later.

But the more that you let yourself think about how he went through your phone and found you the more you started to feel a little uneasy. Had it had been any other person in the world you would have felt incredibly uncomfortable and maybe even unsafe. What had started off as unsolicited hitting on turned into him essentially stocking your information and then calling you to beg for help.

You immediately let out a deep breath and promised yourself that you would pocket all of those feelings and emotions. At the time sure you had some red flags but after getting to know Baekhyun you no longer had any alarms going off in your head. Plus if it weren’t for that unfortunate beginning to your friendship then you wouldn’t be where you are right now.

A knocking at the door caught your attention and you immediately called out for whoever was at the door to come in. you waited with a polite smile and when you saw the familiar long hair of johnny at your office door you smiled.

“hi” was all he said as he stood awkwardly by the door like a little schoolboy

“hey” you said back giving him a warm smile “watcha doing here?”

He took a seat in the chair directly in front of your desk and cleared his throat before he looked back up to you. You watched and waited for him to answer you or at least say something else, and as the seconds went by and the room was still silent you began to smile wider and wider.

“johnny?” you asked

“I’m sorry. I’m just-“ he smiled up at you and then looked down again “I’m just a little tired” he finally said

“what time did you get here this morning?” you asked him

“8am” he answered

You looked over at the clock on your computer monitor and you noticed that the time was only 12. Perhaps he got home late last night. Or maybe he was so tired that he couldn’t sleep.

“so I wanted to ask you if you would eat lunch with me today.” He said keeping a straight face. “I mean I figured that you may not know about the good places to eat around here yet or have any friends to eat with so I thought id take you somewhere” he said nervously explaining away

You chuckled and smiled at him as you asked him “you think I don’t have friends?”

Johnny’s eyes went wide and you knew that he felt a sense of panic since he had essentially called you a loner. And it wasn’t that he was wrong and you weren’t offended either, but you knew that he wasn’t in his right mind and you wanted to give him a little bit of hell.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just mean that since you just got here-“ he yelled as he explained

“its okay…. Im just messing with you.” You said with a smile. You stood up and grabbed your purse and watched as johnny remained seated “come on… where are you gonna take me?” you asked

The practice room…. He took you to the practice room to eat with you. You looked around and let out a happy chuckle as you looked around the room that you had seen so many times on the internet and in dance practice videos. And while it wasn’t the place that you had really anticipated eating in you knew that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to be in the same place that so many of your favorite idols had been before.

“is it just you and I?” you asked him, confused as to why the room was so empty

“yeah” johnny said taking a look around until he saw something that caught his eye. He ran off towards a counter in the back corner of the room and grabbed a bag that had takeout inside. “everyone usually likes to go out and eat or they have other schedules and they eat on the way”

He sat down in the middle of the floor and he opened up the containers one by one. Kimchi fried rice, kimbap, rice cakes, and fishcakes were opened one by one and as you smelled the aroma of each dish your mouth began to water.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I ordered all of my favorites assuming that you must like at least one of them” johnny said as he pulled out chopsticks and separated them for you.

“so do you not have any more work for the day?” you asked him

Johnny looked up at you and gave you a small sad smile. “its not that I don’t have any more work for the day, I just don’t have any individual work to do. When the group comes back then ill have more practice” he stated with a confident tone, but with one look in his eyes you could see that he was affected by his lack of work.

“at least you have time for a life. I mean you get to eat peacefully and enjoy taking midday naps.” You said with a smile hoping that it would cheer him up.

“I guess” he said before he let out a soft sigh “it gets tough being alone though. And since I cant really go outside and just do whatever I want to do, I almost just kind of wish that I would be working more.” He confessed.

You had no idea what you could say to make johnny feel better. And If you could make him feel even a fraction of a bit better you would do so in a heart beat.

You had always known that the companies of idol groups tend to have favorites and display that unequal kindness quite unashamedly. But to hear how sad johnny was and see the look in his eyes, you had realized that there could be a lot more hurt than you had ever thought.

The two of you ate comfortably as you enjoyed the food that johnny had prepared. The two of you had made small jokes back and forth with one another and it felt good to feel the energy of the room switch from sad to lively.

“if you ever want to eat lunch with me just text me” you said holding your hand out for johnny’s phone

“really?” johnny asked with a smile. He immediately looked down at your hand and eyed it for a moment before he placed his hand in yours.

You laughed and shook his hand off “not your hand! Give me your phone weirdo!”

“oh” was all he said as he fished his phone out from his pocket and handed it over to you

You quickly put your phone number into his phone and then handed it back to him. He looked at the contact and then smiled to himself before placing it back into his back pocket.

The two of you had wrapped up your meal and you were about to leave the practice rooms when suddenly johnny had cleared his throat, making you turn around.

“soo” he said as he put his hand on the back of his neck out of nervousness “I just wanted to say thank you for having lunch with me and being so fun… I really like you. And it’s a shame that you’ve already got a boyfriend.”

You were speechless that johnny had just said that he liked you. It was something that you could never even imagine would happen in this lifetime… or well ever. And yet after two days of knowing each other he has already said that he likes you. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and you felt like you were the most successful fan ever. Not only did you get to work with your favorite idols but you also got to-

“did you just say boyfriend?!” you asked him confused

Johnny looked back at you perplexed and he nodded his head. You took a second to think if you had ever mentioned anything about dating anyone or even liking anyone and you kept coming up short.

“what boyfriend?” you asked him

Johnny gave you a strange look before he finally answered you “Baekhyun said that you already had a boyfriend.” He looked up at the ceiling as if he was wracking his brain and trying to remember something “someone who was also from the states… I think he said his name was corey.”

“cole” you said to clarify

“yeah cole!” johnny said snapping his finger and pointing at you in confirmation.

You scoffed and looked down at your shoes. You couldn’t believe that Baekhyun would lie about something like whether you were single or not. Why would he even lie to begin with?

You were starting to feel like who your impression of Baekhyun was, was only who he wanted you to see. and the more that you were talking with other people about events involving him, the more that you found lie after lie. This on top of the whole phone incident was starting to not sit well with you and you were starting to lose some of your good impressions of him. And while it hurt to feel like the excitement from the night previously was diminishing you figured that it would be for the best to not get yourself involved with him anymore.

“yo hyung!” johnny called out to someone behind you and it snapped you out of your thoughts “did’nt you say that Emily had a boyfriend?”

You immediately turned around to see Baekhyun who looked like a frozen deer in headlights. You stayed put in your spot and watched as he panicked as to what to do next. He continued to choke on his words and with a scoff you turned around to face johnny once more.

“no I don’t have a boyfriend” you clarified to johnny “Cole is just one of my friends”

“oh” johnny said nonchalantly “well then if you aren’t seeing anyone would you maybe like to go out sometime?” he asked with a shy smile

You would be lying if you said that you were excited. The fact that Baekhyun was here and was still acting so shady had completely ruined your mood.

You knew that dating within the company was definitely a no-no. and while it wasn’t a written rule per say it was definitely an unspoken one, because the idols available image was very important to their marketability. But in this moment you wanted Baekhyun to get the message to stay away from you loud and clear.

Without a second though you smiled up to johnny, giving him your best fake smile before answering “sure. Id love that”

You didn’t care if Baekhyun had felt bad about seeing you and johnny agree to a date. It had infuriated you that he was manipulating so many people and doing so many shady things. And hopefully now he would leave you alone.

#kpop #kpop series #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #exo #exo series #exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo baekhyun #baekhyun #baekhyun series #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic

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law-of-excluded-middle · 3 years ago

Text

we have to stop meeting like this - part four (of four)

I wrote (part of) a fic for the Witcher Bog (@thewitcherbog) Discord server's July fic train event! I'm really grateful to the Bog for this opportunity to ease gently into writing fanfic, since this is really new for me :')

I was the caboose of the fic train, so if you've been following along, I hope you enjoy how it ends! And thanks for reading!

–

Ship: Lambden

Rating: T

Summary: Lambert, an angry apartment-dweller, deals with an uninvited guest. Repeatedly.

Written for @thewitcherbog train event with @all-hail-the-witcher, @king-finnigan and @jaskierswolf

Words: 5k (part four: 1.5k)

Part one, two, three, four (this one!) - AO3

Aiden, apparently, did a little bit of everything.

“Mostly gig stuff. Food delivery, grocery shopping, odd jobs... I build people’s flatpack furniture for them,” he rattled off. “Cat-sitting,” he added when Bastard, who had just come back inside through the open window, slinked over to him and bumped her head against his shoulder.

Aiden looked at the cat with such tender adoration in his eyes that it made Lambert feel almost uncomfortably warm, and he had to look away as Aiden continued. “I do some regular work for the community garden downtown, and I’m part of a pottery co-op.”

“Pottery? What, d’ya, like, sell shit on Etsy?” Lambert said between slurps of noodles.

A wry smile played on Aiden’s lips. “No,” he answered. “But I usually put in some hours at the winter craft market, peddling mugs and decorative plates, that sort of thing.” He paused. “As far as seasonal work goes, I imagine it’s a better deal than selling Christmas trees in the Home Depot parking lot,” he said, his smile growing into a teasing grin.

“Whoa,” Lambert said, starting. He felt his pulse race. “How do – how do you know where I work? Have you seriously been stalking me?” For the first time, he felt genuinely apprehensive in the presence of his mysterious guest.

But Aiden just laughed. “You’re joking, right?” Lambert scowled, which made Aiden laugh some more. “Your apron is hanging on the rack by the door. Your bright orange apron.”

Lambert whipped his head toward the door, then jerked it back around, and Aiden let out another peal of laughter. Lambert’s face was so hot he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He clenched his teeth, puffing up to defend himself, or at least to say something cutting and uncharitable, draw the focus away from his own cartoonish overreaction.

But one look at Aiden, leaning back on his hands where they were planted on the floor behind him, his head tossed back, shoulders shaking, and Lambert’s chagrin vanished like smoke before he had a chance to get properly worked up. “Oh, blame me for being suspicious of the guy who keeps breaking into my place,” he grumbled.

Still grinning, Aiden cocked his head. “Haven’t we already been over this? I don’t break in, I have a copy of your key.” His eyes sparkled deviously. “You’ll never guess where I had it made.” He glanced pointedly toward the coat rack once again before meeting Lambert’s gaze, his mouth quirked playfully.

“What, at my Home Depot?” Lambert demanded incredulously. Aiden answered with a toothy smile. “Unbelievable,” Lambert huffed. “How did you – when did you even get your hands on my key to copy it? – No, never mind, I don’t even care. What I’m more interested to know is how the hell this all started.”

Aiden’s eyes widened innocently. “How what all started?” But then he broke into a grin – that mischievous grin that Lambert was too quickly getting used to, and growing fond of – and sighed, apparently settling in for a story. “Let’s see, the first time I was here, that was a few weeks ago, right?”

“Weeks? Weeks?” This was news to Lambert. He had only become aware of Aiden’s drop-ins in the last ten days or so.

“Ah, right, right – you know, I think it was actually three weeks ago to the day! Imagine that,” Aiden continued, smiling beatifically, as if Lambert hadn’t even spoken. “Well... this story does not paint me in the most flattering light, actually…”

“Imagine that,” Lambert echoed dryly. “The story of the first time you broke into my apartment – and that was a break-in, I don’t even want to hear you try to deny it – and you’re telling me you don’t come out looking like the hero?”

“I’m not sure I see what you’re getting at,” Aiden said primly, not looking at Lambert. “Well, the short of it is, I’d gotten into a bit of a disagreement with some gentlemen that evening, and that turned into more of a scrap, which quickly gave way to a brawl. And I decided that the most civilized thing for me to do was to bow out gracefully.”

“So, you ran away,” Lambert said, for clarification.

“Like a bat out of hell,” Aiden confirmed with a smirk that was somehow both arrogant and self-deprecating. Lambert felt warm again. “Look, it wasn’t my finest hour. These guys were big, and I’m pretty agile, but I know when I’m outmatched.”

Aiden paused to hum thoughtfully. “Now, you on the other hand…” he continued. “If it had been you in my place, I imagine you could have taken them.” He smiled a tiny, devious little smile and curled forward, reaching out to wrap a hand around Lambert’s biceps. It flexed in his grip and his smile grew wide. “Yes, I’m quite sure,” he purred.

Lambert felt very warm. “Yeah, I’m. Uh. I, I guess I’m pretty good in a scrap. I, you know, I.” He flexed his arm again. “Move a lotta wood.”

“I bet you do,” Aiden murmured, leaning even further into Lambert’s space and looking up at him through his dense, dark eyelashes.

“Lumber,” Lambert hastened to clarify. “At. Fucking – At Home Depot. You know. Dimensional lumber, and pressure-treated pine, and like six kinds of plywood. OSB. MDF. You name it.” He grimaced.

Aiden was openly delighted at how flustered Lambert was getting, but he seemed to take pity on him. With a parting squeeze, he let go of Lambert’s arm and resumed eating his noodles, the picture of innocence.

“Let’s see – right, so I made my strategic exit and found myself hiding up your fire escape. Saw this little one get in through a half-open window” – he scratched behind the cat’s ears and she rubbed her face against his hand shamelessly – “and I figured I could use a place to lie low for an hour or two, so.” Aiden shrugged. He set his takeout container aside on the coffee table and scooped Bastard into his lap.

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you kept coming back,” Lambert pointed out.

And there was that condescending smirk again. “Well, this part of the story isn’t so flattering for you,” he said.

Lambert scowled, which probably wasn’t very flattering for him, either.

Aiden sighed, still smiling. “I got such a strong impression of loneliness, just from being in your apartment for a few hours. And I thought you could use a friend. Who doesn’t want to make a new friend?” He looked so sweet and earnest for a moment that Lambert lost his train of thought.

But it came back. “Are you telling me you made a copy of my key so you could keep hanging around my apartment, because you pitied me?” he asked, baffled.

Aiden pouted just a little. “I wouldn’t say pitied, no. But come on, the tower of identical takeout containers” – he gestured pointedly to the one out of which Lambert was still eating – “seemed a bit sad. You needed some novelty in your life!”

Lambert stared at him. Objectively, this was batshit behavior.

And yet, he couldn’t find himself feeling anything but want. It had been so long since Lambert could remember wanting, or wanting anything new, anyway. He didn’t want to fight it.

“You’re definitely novel, I’ll give you that,” Lambert said at last. “So, what now? Because I gotta be honest with you,” he paused, “we really have to stop meeting like this.”

Aiden broke into a toothy grin. “Now? I think I ought to head home,” he said, rolling his shoulders back and stretching languidly. “And tomorrow, I think you should take me out for breakfast.”

“I have work in the morning,” Lambert protested.

“No you don’t,” Aiden replied without missing a beat.

“Damn, it really is a little creepy how well you know my schedule.”

Aiden laughed wickedly as he stood up, and Lambert followed. “I don’t have a car, will you drive? I can meet you here at ten, how’s that?”

“You don’t have a –? Never mind. Yeah, ten’s fine.” He had to wonder how the guy managed to work all these delivery gigs without a car, but they didn’t need to get into it right now; he had a feeling that it would take him some time to figure out how the hell Aiden operated, and he thought, with a fluttery sort of hope, that he would have that time.

Lambert walked Aiden to the door, and Aiden looked up at him coyly.

“I’ll have you know, Lambert, that I’m not one to kiss on the first date,” he said with affected sternness.

Lambert choked a little, startled, his face heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh, well, that’s fine, I won’t be uhh, expecting anything just for buying you breakfast,” he stammered.

Aiden just narrowed his eyes and smirked. “That’s what tonight was for: now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I might be expecting something after you buy me breakfast.” He raised his eyebrows slyly and then slipped out the door, leaving Lambert feeling entirely too warm.

If this all worked out, he thought, they were going to have to come up with a better story about how they met.

#the witcher #witcher fanfic #lambert #aiden #lambden #lamden #laiden #lambert x aiden #lambert/aiden #my writing #personal

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