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hazyhae · 4 months

Text

rose bud | jjh

stoner!fuckboy!jaehyun x fem!reader

summary: friday nights are party nights, and it's here that your feet always seem to lead you to your favorite stoner. you know the sweet words that leave jaehyun's mouth don't belong just to you, but something about him leaves you wanting more.

wc: ~9.2k 18+ mdni

cw: angst, eventual fluff, weed/alcohol use, sexual activity under the influence, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected pinv sex, nipple play, baby + pretty + angel as petnames, jaehyun calls reader "my girl" once, different positions, misunderstandings, jealousy, a lot of cursing, oral (receiving), reader borrows clothes from members, explicit sex descriptions, pining, jungwoo getting caught in the middle of everything

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you walk into the dimly lit house, music blaring through the speakers and deafening chatter ringing through your ears as your eyes scan for your target.

a vaguely familiar face pulls you to the side to take a shot, which you gladly join in for, but you leave it at one as you continue on. you’d so much rather be mind numbingly high than drunk, and there was one person you knew to go to for just that.

you make your way further into the house, eyes landing on a corner of the living room when you see him - the backwards hat nestled on top of dark hair and dimples you could spot from a mile away.

you scan his surroundings, relieved that his only company is johnny, a friend you know well. johnny’s eyes meet yours and crinkle in recognition.

“__!” he calls, beckoning you to come closer. johnny gives you a quick hug before excusing himself, leaving you with the one you had been wanting to see.

“jae,” you smile, holding your index finger and thumb up to your lips. “you know what i’m here for.”

he rolls his eyes playfully. “whatever happened to hi jaehyun, how are you?”

you laugh and take the seat next to him on the loveseat he’s currently occupying.

“hi, jaehyun how are you, do you have my weed?” you bat your eyelashes at him.

“that depends, pretty, are you gonna let me be the luckiest man in the world tonight?” he mirrors you, putting on your same innocent look while batting his eyelashes.

you lightly smack his arm while he throws his head back to let out a deep, hearty laugh. he pulls his pen out of his pocket and hands it to you.

“hold onto this for now baby, left the j’s in my car. meet me outside in 10?” you nod, taking a long hit from his pen as you watch him disappear into the crowd.

how long has it been now since you’ve had this routine with him? you think back to the very first time you met the man at one of these parties, the only setting you really get to see him in.

at a party many months prior, you decided that your energy for getting wasted wasn’t as good as it used to be, instead opting for a chiller alternative - getting high. your best friend of many years, mark, had started this connection.

“…i’ve got bad news, dude.” you were one drink in and itching to smoke, but a look of panic in mark’s eyes after fumbling through his pockets told you all you needed to know.

“mark, really?? i knew i should have just grabbed them myself..” mark had left the joints he rolled at his place, where you two had pregamed before the party. luckily for you, he also had a solution.

“dude, i know a guy who’s always got weed on him. trust,” he assured you, leading you to the porch out front where you saw a few people gathered. you could already smell the pungent scent of weed coming from the huddle, and you trusted that mark knew what he was doing.

“thought i saw you out here jae, could we join y’all for a bit?” mark asked after dapping up the one you assumed was “jae.”

“i mean i guess, only cause it’s you, mark,” the man said, turning his sights to you. “but i don’t mind if your plus one joins too?”

“this is __. we’re just friends, but appreciate it bro,” mark quickly clarified. jaehyun nodded in understanding.

“i’m jaehyun, nice to meet you, pretty.” taking in the sight in front of you, you were met with his deep brown eyes, perfectly messy black hair, and lovely dimples for the first time that night.

he was really attractive and just your type, and with this along with the affectionate name right off the bat, you knew you were a goner.

after joining their rotation and meeting some other friends in the circle, you fell into a comfortable mood, conversations and laughs flowing. you found out jaehyun and a couple of his friends rented the house where you all were at, letting it be a regular party grounds.

you’d known a couple of people lived at that house, but you’d only met johnny, another host and one of jaehyun’s roommates, so it was nice to meet the dimpled man.

as the night went on, you were still aware of the presence of the new man next to you, maybe too aware, but you knew somehow in the back of your mind you would be seeing a lot more of him. now that you know your regular party spot was his house, you hoped so.

and to your pleasant surprise, you did see him a lot more. the next couple of parties, he always somehow found you, inviting you to smoke with him even without mark. you usually had brought your own weed, but you’re never one to turn down a free smoke, especially when he was always the one to seek you out.

he always seemed to throw in a flirtatious remark or a pet name that had your stomach in flips whenever you spent your time smoking together. you acted like you didn’t mind, but your heart was beating out of your chest as you tried to keep your cool.

otherwise, conversations were always pleasant and comfortable with him, and you two just clicked.

at some point, you found yourself pocketing your own weed and going straight to jaehyun. you were getting more and more familiar with the butterflies in your stomach.

looking good, angel.

god, you hold your smoke like a champ, pretty.

i think i deserve a smooch for how good i rolled this for you, baby.

with each party, he got more and more bold, but never went beyond words. it sent a thrill through your being, making you crave his presence more and more. something about him infatuated you. you wanted to get to know him, to see if there was any room in him for you.

your curiosity was cut short as you quickly learned to dismiss his flirting as nothing more than playfulness once you learned more about him.

after all, it wasn’t a secret that jeong jaehyun was a player.

you had to learn this yourself by seeing him tangled with some random girl in front of your own eyes. the first time it happened, you remember how you stopped breathing for a second, the feeling of your stomach dropping far too uncomfortable.

you couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. you didn’t even know him that well, didn’t even know him outside of the low lights, burning alcohol, and smoke clouds. how could you think you were special? you learned then and you know now, and as time helps, it hurts less.

you got yourself up to date. you’ve heard the rumors about him around the different friend circles, and even know a few girls he’s hooked up with. who were you kidding?

whenever it happened, you always turned on your heel, pulling out your own forgotten joints, pushing down the disappointed feeling in your heart by finding another friend or two to get high with. the next party would roll around and jaehyun would come find you as if you weren’t completely gone from his mind the last time you shared space.

all feelings of disdain for him would fade with the sound of his deep, hearty laughter, and everything would continue on with the addition of you swallowing your feelings. he just wasn’t someone you could let go.

it’s been a while since you’ve been met with the unpleasant sight of his hands on another, but it’s happened enough for you to know.

you know better than to expect something like that between you and jaehyun. if you could just keep the role of his smoking buddy to yourself, then you were content keeping things the way they are. it’s easier.

it’s nights like these, however, when jaehyun’s actions make it hard.

a warm jacket is dropped on your shoulders as you step onto the house porch, meeting your friend as promised. jaehyun’s looking at you with his deep brown eyes, pulling the jacket’s hood over your head.

“don’t know why you always somehow forget to wear something that won’t get you sick,” he says warmly with a hint of a teasing tone. he’s done this more than enough times for you not to argue.

“no jackets went with the fit.. thank you though,” you thank him as he pulls out his array of joints. he looks through them under the dim porch light when he picks out one holding it in front of your mouth to take.

“you’ll like this one,” he assures. weed is weed, so you don’t think twice.

you grasp the joint between your fingers, and jaehyun lights it as you inhale slightly, watching the paper glow. you take a deeper inhale, holding it a few seconds before blowing out smoke and passing it back to jaehyun.

it is a little different than usual. a slightly floral taste and smell invades your senses, almost a little perfume-y but not unpleasantly so.

“what did you put in there?” you question, trying to decipher from the smell.

he grins, handing it back to you.

“mixed in a liiitle bit of dried rose petals to the grinder. you like?” he asks, but he knew you would like it when he packed it.

“i do actually, what made you think of doing that?” you fall back into your usual conversation with him.

“just thought you’d like it, nothin much to it,” he replies, taking the joint from you to ash it. “kinda romantic though, no?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

you laugh, letting the high carry the weight of his words from your heart.

“yeah def, the ladies are gonna loove this one,” you joke, masking any bitterness.

he looks at you for a second, gaze seeming to soften before turning to relight the joint, rotating it a few times to make sure it was burning evenly.

“nah, you know i don’t smoke with them like that,” he holds up the joint for you to take a hit. you let him hold it as you inhale slightly, and he brings it back up to his own lips.

“that’s why i’ve got you, pretty,” he muses, taking another hit. you can’t bring yourself to come up with a smart response, heart pounding as you change the subject to something random.

you try not to lose yourself to your thoughts, but you feel yourself go into autopilot. your body keeps up with jaehyun’s conversation as your mind dwells on his previous words.

you’re special to him in some way, and you’ll take it even if it isn’t exactly the way you’d want.

you finish the joint, letting it fall to the pavement as you stomp out its embers.

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the next time you come around, it’s a special celebration - a birthday rager for jungwoo, one of jaehyun’s housemates and another host of the house parties. jungwoo’s regularly in jaehyun’s rotations, so you’ve gotten to know the puppy-like man pretty well. meaning he is comfortable enough to put you in your current predicament.

“__, please please take this shot with me, it’s literally my birthday.” you showed up a little later than usual to the party because of work, but a tipsy jungwoo somehow caught hold of you before you could even get anything in you.

you give in, taking the shot, but the birthday boy is relentless.

“you need to catch up, okay?!” he hands you another double shot, whining as you look at him incredulously. as much as you cared about your friend, you were itching to find jaehyun. jungwoo’s next words make that itch stop.

“stupid fucking jae, ditching me to go mess with some girl.. it’s literally my birthday..” jungwoo pouts, pouring another shot for himself as well.

you still for a second. it’s just another one of those days, you remind yourself. it’d honestly been so long since you’ve run into him messing around with some random girl that you’d thought he might have changed.

but he hasn’t, and you’re not gonna let that ruin your night. deciding to come out of drinking retirement for tonight, you place your hand on jungwoo’s shoulder. fuck it.

“bottoms up, birthday boy.”

jungwoo smiles big, clinking his cup against yours before the two of you down your shots, swallowing down your feelings along with the alcohol entering your system. a couple more friends join you, including mark, and you soon find yourself more drunk than you planned to be.

jungwoo was a convincing host, getting you, everyone around you, and himself absolutely sloshed.

after multiple rounds of shots, a few drinking games, and a body shot between jungwoo and a red-head whose name you can’t remember, you’re wasted.

you end up in some bathroom with jungwoo and a few others, jungwoo throwing up into the toilet as you all bring him water and care for him to the best of your drunk abilities.

you don’t know how, but you get tasked with taking the birthday boy up to his room. you aren’t sure where his roommates are, but you can assume what one of them is up to. it makes your stomach turn.

pushing the thought from your mind, you head up the stairs with your lanky friend draped around your shoulders, somehow making each step.

the red-head, who you eventually remembered as yuta (after he told you), let you know his room was the second door on the left. you stumble into the room, letting jungwoo topple on the bed.

“woo, let me borrow a shirt, you spilled your beer all over me earlier.” he hums, but looking at him he’s already wrapped in the blankets of the bed, starting to doze off.

you go into his closet, not caring and still drunk, swapping your soaked shirt for a random long sleeve. you go back to check on him, sitting at the foot of the bed while chuckling at his light snoring.

“__?” a deep voice cuts through the room. you left the door wide open when you came in, still a little drunk to think clearly. you turn to see the one you spent all night trying to wipe from your head.

“oops, hi jae,” you greet, suddenly conscious of how drunk you might look.

“hi, what are you doing in my room?” he asks. your mouth opens, no sound coming out.

“is this not jungwoo’s room?? the second door on the left?” you question, embarrassment starting to sprout. jaehyun laughs.

“how much did you have to drink? can’t tell your rights from lefts?” you let out a gasp at this, hands coming to your face.

“ugh, why did they put me on jungwoo duty anyway?” you mumble into your hands. jaehyun enters the room, standing in front of your sat form. he looks at you for a second, leaning down slightly. your drunk mind jumps right way to something else, but jaehyun passes you to shake jungwoo.

“woo, get up. go to your own bed,” jaehyun says, shaking him awake. jungwoo grunts, eyes stubbornly shut, but he’s awake. “no more weed for a month if you don’t go to your room,” jaehyun tries again, and it works.

jungwoo springs up at the threat, stumbling out of the bed as you watch jaehyun help him to his feet. jungwoo slumps over jaehyun’s shoulders, similarly to how had done to you earlier, and you follow them across the hall to jungwoo’s room.

jungwoo lands on his bed with a grunt, seemingly falling back asleep almost instantaneously. jaehyun places a water bottle on his nightstand before turning back to you.

“nice shirt by the way,” he winks. you look down, forgetting what you were wearing, confused at his compliment when you come to the realization.

that wasn’t jungwoo’s room, so it wasn’t jungwoo’s closet. you aren’t wearing jungwoo’s shirt.

“oh my god jae, i’m so sorry, i’ll steal another from jungwoo’s closet and give you this one back ” you ramble, but he just leads you out of jungwoo’s room with a warm hand on your back, turning the light off and closing the door.

“just wear mine, it’s cool,” jaehyun says nonchalantly. “wanna smoke? i can pull out the bong,” jaehyun offers. there are still partygoers downstairs, but you don’t feel like joining them.

the sound of a freshly packed bowl is like heaven to your drunk ears, and you find yourself agreeing before you can catch it. you let the reason why you are only seeing jaehyun now this far into the night leave your mind.

you get to spend alone time with him, and it fills your heart with good feelings.

leading you back into his room, jaehyun closes the door behind you as you take in the room. when you brought jungwoo in here earlier, you weren’t focused enough to actually get a good look at everything.

“it’s cleaner than i thought it would be in here,” you decide to poke fun a bit. jaehyun rolls his eyes at you. he sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. you trust jaehyun, but being in his room for the first time is nerve wracking.

your eyes follow his careful hands as he pours some water from a bottle on his night stand into the bong, pulling the bowl out to add the ground leaves.

“how much did you really have to drink? do you need water?” jaehyun looks at you a bit concerned.

“i’m good, just haven’t drank this much in a while though. i think a hit of that might make me feel betterrr,” you point to the bong in his hands. jaehyun grins.

“anything for you, baby,” he says handing you the bong. you bring it to your mouth quickly as he flicks a lighter on to light the bowl. smoke slowly fills the bong and with a quick inhale you take in the smoke in an effort to try and hide the warmth on your cheeks.

“that’s my girl,” jaehyun murmurs proudly, in awe of how you know your way around a bong. your ears almost miss his praise, but it takes everything in you to not choke on the smoke you exhale. my girl. the words ring in your ears, and your cheeks are burning hot now.

you pass the bong back and forth for a while until your drunken haze has faded into a raging high, and jaehyun’s right up there with you.

you both watch as the other lights up, and jaehyun’s gaze shifts from where your hand grips the neck of the bong to your where your mouth meets its entrance.

there’s a moment of silence where he seems to be thinking before he speaks up.

“looks like you were having fun, sure you made jungwoo’s birthday so fun, downing all those shots with him,” he recalls.

“you were watching?? when you coulda just joined?” you question.

“was busy with a friend,” he replies curtly. it stings a bit.

“right,” you choke out, falling into a silence. after a brief pause, he looks at you with a gaze a bit too serious for his next words as the smoke clouds the room further.

“can’t believe your first trip to my room was with another man,” he says lowly. your eyes widen at this, and he keeps going.

“dunno, just thought the first time i’d bring you up here would be special, and with me.” he finds nothing wrong with his words, pondering as he looks up at the smoke.

“you wanted to bring me here?” you ask, finally letting yourself speak.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i?? you’re one of my best smoking buds, my rose bud,” he says and you recall his last custom blend for you.

“bud..” you say quietly. one of his buds, his friends. he was keeping himself busy with a friend earlier.

the weed creeps up on you as your mind thinks of a million different things, and its either you took one too many hits or there must be leftover alcohol in your bloodstream with the way your words leave you like lightning.

“would you kiss one of your buds?”

“what?”

“i mean, you’ve been kissing your friends, so i was wondering if i made the cut.”

his eyes slightly widen, yet still look so heavy as you make out their faint redness and glossed over look.

the high must have taken jaehyun too, and everything moves in slow motion as he crashes lips onto yours.

you’re amazed at just how good it feels to have his lips on yours. his lips are warm, moving slowly across yours as he deepens the kiss further, hands creeping around your waist. your eyes are shut tight and you feel like you’re seeing colors with how he’s taking your breath away.

when his tongue prods at your lips, you’re quick to let him in. everything feels like its burning, from your mouth to the place where his hands meet your hips. and you feel the unmistakeable burning from down below, too.

he kisses you, not letting up until you move to start to adjust yourself over him. his hands move to your ass, and you let out a gasp at his firm grip. you’re sat on his lap, kisses messy and getting deeper by the second.

his hands move to your hips pushing you down onto him as his hips jerk up, and you let out a sweet moan at his hard member pressing through his jeans into you.

his eyes open wide at the sound.

as if awoken from a deep sleep, the sweet sound that comes from you breaks jaehyun out of his lustful daze. he stops kissing you, hands moving back up to your waist to gently guide you back to your original spot next to him.

your disappointment is through the roof, and if not for the substances running through your body, the embarrassment could bring you to tears.

“jae? what’s up?” you try to set a lighthearted tone, hoping it’s not over, but jaehyun looks you at you with an apologetic expression.

“sorry, i went too far.. i’m kind of gone. we’re both really fuckin high, don’t wanna do something you’d regret.” he says in the same curt tone that dampened your mood earlier. “i don’t think we should be doing that.”

your breath catches at that last part.

you had wanted to cut him off, saying he didn’t need to be sorry and that you actually liked it and wanted even more. but he made it very clear he thought it was a mistake.

suddenly, you’re reminded that those same lips were on another’s not even a couple hours before yours, and it makes you sick to your stomach.

your mind starts to ask questions you don’t have answers to, but you’re not gonna let yourself sit in the shame of expectation.

you find your quickest escape route, acting as if you’re checking your phone for a notification.

“gotcha, okay. mark is texting me, he’s getting us an uber,” you say, getting off of his bed and scanning your area for any forgotten items. he seems to have something to say, but he keeps his mouth glued shut as you fix yourself.

“have a good night, jae.” you make your way to the door.

“see you next week?” he asks as you turn the door knob.

“maybe.” you walk into the hallway, silently shutting his door behind you.

for the first time since you’ve met, you hope you don’t see him.

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from that moment on, you decided to do everything in your power to not be around jaehyun. as much as you’ve tried to justify his actions, you can’t. the rejection burns and just the sound of his name brings up the same queasy feeling.

you decide to skip the next few parties, but after a while you’ve been itching to be back in that atmosphere. you debate not showing up to the next party that rolls around, but mark catches you before you can hole up in your apartment.

“dude, you have to go, johnny would be so sad,” mark reasons.

johnny had gone back to his hometown for his own birthday and was gone for quite some time. once he came back, you heard he had thrown a small fit about jungwoo’s birthday rager. not only was he feeling left out since he missed it, he just knew he could throw an even better one. soon enough, he texted all the groupchats promising just that.

it was just like him to throw a birthday rager more than a month after his birthday. johnny was just as crazy, if not worse than jungwoo when it came to parties. you knew you would have a good time, but the lingering presence of jaehyun looms over your head.

“if i go, you need to stay with me, mark..” you tell him seriously. he scratches his head.

“you’re always the one ditching me to find ja-”

“i won’t do that anymore, let’s just go?” you interrupt him, silently praying he wouldn’t question you. he shrugs.

“okayy, whatever you say. we’re having a bestie joint tonight though okay?” you’re grateful he didn’t pry, and as the two of you head to his party, he lights up that bestie joint you promised.

as you exhale the smoke, watching it rise as you walk with mark, you’re grateful that it alleviates some of the tension you felt returning after being gone for a while.

you can hear music bumping from down the street, and once you reach the house, mark pauses at the sight of a vaguely familiar, yet beautiful girl.

“oh shit,” he says under his breath. “didn’t know she was coming tonight.”

you take a closer look as her face, and you turn to mark with a mischievous grin as you finally recognize her.

yeri. one of jungwoo’s coworkers who you met briefly at his birthday. you probably took a shot or two with her, but it was a bit of a blur.

mark, on the other hand, would not shut up about her on the uber ride home. he regretted not getting her number, and was too shy to ask jungwoo, so he hasn’t seen her since.

“markie-pooooooh.. go get your girl,” you tease him.

“fuck, dude i didn’t prepare my heart for this..” mark breathes in and out, calming himself.

“you’ve got this dude, and i can get myself home tonight so don’t worry!” you assure him.

he looks at you a bit worriedly. “but i thought you wanted me to stay with you, are you sure?” he truly is your best friend.

“we can do this anytime, i need you to get her number before i go and do it first,” you jokingly threaten, and mark gives you a quick squeeze before heading off to talk to her.

smiling to yourself as you see her light up at his presence, you walk into the house, just wanting to get a bit of alcohol in you before finding the birthday boy.

you are instead met with jungwoo, and he’s puppy-like as always. he gives you a big hug, swaying you back and forth in his arms. you can smell the alcohol on him as he gushes.

“__, my hero!!! my heroine?? whatever, it’s been so long, i thought i scared you off!” he looks at you, pouting his bottom lip. “thank you for taking care of me on my birthday, i swear i won’t be messy today..”

you laugh, breaking an arm out of his grasp to ruffle his hair. “it’s all good woo, i’ve just been busy for a bit,” you assure.

he’s quick to lead you to the kitchen to grab a drink and a shot or two. after catching up for a bit, he puts on a curious face.

“by the way.. can i ask you something?”

“you just did.” he rolls his eyes.

“ok anyways.. are you and jaehyun like, a thing?” he asks, and you almost choke on the drink you’re sipping on.

“wh-what? no, to me he’s literally just the weed guy,” you stutter out. you could have just said you were friends, but you said the first thing that came to mind.

jungwoo lets out a booming laugh at this, hysterical at the nickname “weed guy.”

“i’m soo dead, he needs to hear this shit, it’ll humble his ass,” jungwoo says between his laughter, holding his stomach.

“i already did.”

you both gasp and turn to the kitchen entrance, seeing jaehyun there with a flat expression.

immediately the drunk jungwoo starts hounding him, and your face burns. he was so much more than just the “weed guy,” but you know he probably could not care less.

jaehyun turns to you. it hasn’t even been more than a couple of weeks since you’ve seen him, but you missed him so bad. he isn’t wearing his usual hat today, leaving his black hair to fall over his forehead. his features pull into a glare.

“weed guy? i guess that makes sense from the way you always mooch off me,” jaehyun says a little too coldly.

you and jungwoo are speechless for a second, not sensing any joking tone from him. jungwoo laughs awkwardly, trying to break the tension.

“oh you don’t mean that, jae.. you missed her, i mean the past few weeks you’ve be-”

jaehyun turns on his heel before jungwoo could finish, and the two of you are left confused in the kitchen.

“why is he so pissy?” jungwoo asks, gasping when he turns back to you and sees the expression on your face.

your cheeks burn with shame as you recall all your past interactions with him. you had always been so eager to smoke with him, to see him. were you just annoying him this entire time?

if this was the first thing he has to say to you after rejecting you and leaving you out to dry, you really are not as special as you thought you were.

it hurts, and you can’t hide it.

“no, no he didn’t mean it!! he’s probably just stressed or something,” jungwoo panics.

as if on cue, the birthday boy who had somehow left your mind strolls in with a full red solo cup. johnny is clearly wasted as he lights up seeing you.

“why were you hiding out here??? you didn’t even tell me happy birthday,” johnny slurs as he comes to pull you into a hug. his long limbs are not coordinated as the alcohol runs through his veins, and one wrong step leads his cup flying onto you.

you stand there, shocked at the turn of events in the last 10 minutes, as johnny fusses over you. he hugs you as the alcohol seeps uncomfortably into your clothes.

“happy birthday johnny, i want you to have so much fun but i’m sorry, i’m gonna head home,” you tell him, trying not to make it apparent that you’re holding back tears.

“no, no, let me get you some clothes to change into,” johnny tries, but the party guests are already calling him back into the living room for another shot.

“it’s okay, i got it,” jungwoo butts in, having witnessed everything. johnny tries to argue, but the two of you nudge him out of the kitchen, wanting him to enjoy his night.

the walk up the stairs to the bedrooms is miserable, with you and jungwoo silent as you hold your arms around yourself. once you’re in jungwoo’s room, he hands you a hoodie and some sweats.

“i’m sorry, __, i shouldn’t have provoked him,” jungwoo apologizes, notably more sober than when you first saw him.

“it’s fine. i just don’t know what his problem is when he’s the one who..” you trail off, feeling the tears start to prickle at your eyes.

jungwoo pats your head as a few tears slip. you think it must be the alcohol, but you know you’ve sobered up. at his contact the tears just flow.

jungwoo is silent as he lets you cry, not wanting to push you to talk until you initiate it yourself.

your tears have stopped after some time passes, and jungwoo has not left. he places a towel he grabbed on your shoulders, and leads you to the bathroom attached to his room.

“maybe a warm shower would help, you don’t have to go back out there if you don’t want to. you can chill for a bit and i’ll call you an uber home later?” jungwoo offers.

you nod, grateful for his understanding. if only you liked him instead, maybe you wouldn’t be going through this. he’s here taking care of you when he could be downstairs having fun.

at your urging, jungwoo goes back down to the party. he promises to come back to check on you, and rushes down once he hears johnny announcing another house shot.

you peel off your soaked clothes, placing them to the side as you step into the shower. your eyes scan his soaps, landing on the body wash. opening it, you find it has a very woody, masculine scent, but you would take that over going home sticky.

the warm water really does make you feel better, and you spend a bit of time in there making sure all of the alcohol is scrubbed from your skin.

you hear the bedroom door open as you are wrapping up and turn off the water, assuming jungwoo came back to check in. you change into the clothes he gave you, taking extra care to wipe any signs of tears from your face.

to your surprise, the person sitting on the bed when you exit the bathroom is not jungwoo.

“what the fuck, jae? what are you doing here? where’s jungwoo?” you question.

“i should be asking you the same thing,” jaehyun bites back.

he takes in your form, skin looking refreshed from the shower and your cozy form wrapped in jungwoo’s clothes. his eyes darken.

“so is this your thing? just going into any dude’s room and stealing his clothes?”

jae’s eyes shift to jungwoo’s bedside table.

“so you and jungwoo are fucking now?” his gaze is piercing through you. in any other case you would be paralyzed by his stare, but it only makes you livid.

all you wanted to do was recover from what the very man in front of you did, and he’s putting you in the interrogation room? hell no.

“it’s none of your fucking business, jae.” you meet his gaze with your own. he’s silent, moving his eyes back down to a box resting on the table, and your eyes follow.

that’s why he thinks that. sitting there is a box of condoms, and it makes you feel extra guilty, knowing you’re probably cockblocking any plans jungwoo had for the night.

jaehyun’s deep voice cuts through the silence.

“was he good?”

“oh my god, why the hell are you even here?” he’s ignoring you, and he gets up and stands right in front of you.

“he must have sucked then, seeing that you’re still standing and he’s down there drinking his ass off with some random chick.” jaehyun has venom leaking from his words. what a hypocrite.

“as if you weren’t doing the same exact thing? we aren’t like that, so can you just get out?” you’re boiling at this point at his audacity.

“i bet i could do better, so much better,” he says and just like that you’re stunned at his words.

“what?” your voice comes out in a whisper, shocked at his implications.

he wraps his hands around your waist, moving backwards as he pulls you closer to the bed. the familiar scent of jungwoo’s body wash fills his nose, and he feels anger prick at the back of his head.

“i said, i could do you so much better, baby.” his gaze is the darkest you’ve seen from him. you’re still in shock to say the least, body on fire from his proposal and the affectionate name you’ve been missing.

he’s fully sat on the edge bed with you standing in his arms, but you don’t want to melt in his hands just yet, especially after what he put you through.

you take a step back, glaring at him. a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.

“oh yeah? i don’t know.. i’m kind of sore,” you rub your lower back for dramatic effect, challenging him to see his reaction.

jaehyun seethes, tugging you back into him, pulling you so he can lay a sloppy kiss to your neck. his hot breath is on you and you know he can feel your heart beating.

“he left you sore, but i’ll make sure you can’t even walk out of his room without me.”

with that, he angles his head up, lips molding to yours as he keeps a hand on the back of your neck and the other on your hip.

his lips are familiar, but the way he kisses you is anything but. unlike the first time, which started out slow and a little unsure, jaehyun roughly kisses you now with hurried passion.

he flips the two of you over, hovering over you so that he can kiss you even deeper, and you can’t help but thread your hands through his hair.

the anger you felt before still remains, but even if you wanted it to, time away from him hasn’t changed the fact that you want him more than anybody you’ve ever met.

he slots a leg in between yours, pushing up against your core. it doesn’t help that you don’t have underwear on under the sweats, and you move your hips with him trying to get more friction.

breaking from you with a thread of saliva connecting your lips, he trails down your neck, leaving soft bites. he growls at the hoodie in the way, remembering that it isn’t his.

“arms up, baby,” he says, backing up a bit. you comply, and he pulls the hoodie off you, chucking it to the side not caring where it lands.

he lays kisses down your throat to your collarbones and leaves a particularly harsh kiss right above your chest. his mouth moves to your right nipple, tongue flicking it up and down as his other hand moves to knead the other side.

his hands trail down your waist, tugging at the waistband of the pants. he sits up to pull them completely off, reveling at your uncovered core glistening with arousal.

“on all fours,” he instructs, and you quickly flip over, pulling a pillow to clutch. he pulls your hips up, gripping your ass as he admires the view.

“naughty baby, one guy wasn’t enough? still so wet, he didn’t satisfy you?” he slides his fingers between your folds, circling your clit as you moan out.

he inserts one finger, wetness gushing around as you take it in, and he moves it around a bit as it reaches the base. just one of his fingers feels overwhelming, and he hums as he adds another, slowly pumping in and out.

“are you sure he fucked you right? you’re squeezing around me like crazy,” he makes his point with a curl of his fingers, feeling you clench tight around his digits.

his fingers move in and out faster and faster as you moan desperately into the pillow in your grip, hips moving with his fingers.

“bet he couldn’t even make you cum, pretty, want me to help you out?” he asks, fingers not slowing down in the slightest as his other hand reaches for your clit.

“j-jae, yes, please,” you groan into the pillow.

“then fucking cum,” he growls, and his hands move even faster and press deeper at your most intimate parts.

the pressure builds and builds in your stomach, jaehyun coaxing you along, and you cum hard around his fingers.

“jae, f-fuck, fuck!” you cry out as he helps you ride out your orgasm. his fingers leave your entrance with a wet sound, and your hips collapse at the lack of his support.

he gets up for a bit, and you hear a rustling sound. you peek over your shoulder to see jaehyun, stripped naked and lowering a condom you assume he grabbed from jungwoo’s box onto his cock.

you had gotten just a sneak peak of his size from how hard he was through his pants the first time you made out, but it did no justice to the real thing. he is huge.

he comes back to you, pulling your hips back up and slotting himself between your legs. you grip onto the pillow harder as he rubs his tip up and down your slit. his tip catches on your entrance and you gasp, legs tensing.

“jae, ‘s too much,” you moan out at the slight stretch.

“you can take it, all warmed up for me already,” he chokes out, inching his way to fill you up completely. his grip on your hips is bruising, and you know without his strong hold you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.

he groans deeply, a sound that seems to come deep from his throat, as he bottoms out, and your eyes prickle with tears at the feeling. he gives you a second to adjust before pulling out fully to his tip, then thrusting back in harshly.

the motion sends you forward slightly, and the air seems to be pushed from your lungs. it feels so good, and you want more.

“fuck me jae, p-please fuck me, oh f-” you moan out, and he obliges, giving you another harsh, deep thrust.

once he’s bottomed out again, he pauses. you push your hips back into him, expecting him to start pistoning into you, but he lets out a sigh before pulling out of you completely.

your heart sinks.

“this isn’t how i wanted it to go..” he murmurs frustratedly.

the same feeling of disappointment and rejection hits you like a train, and this time you can’t hold yourself together for long enough to get out of there.

your shoulders are shaking from tears before you know it, and jaehyun’s face falls in realization.

“wait, wait, no, i’m sorry,” jaehyun starts, scooping you up into his arms at the sound of your tears. “give me a second to explain, baby.” you push at his chest.

“just say you don’t want to fuck me and go, jaehyun, save me the fucking humiliation please,” you let out between your sobs.

he tries to start talking, but you don’t let him, wrapping yourself in the bed’s comforter.

“you must be high, i must be fucking wasted to think you were serious, just like before.” you put your face in your hands, trying to calm yourself and catch your tears.

jaehyun grabs your hands away from your face, leaning in to give you a deep kiss. the kiss is slow and steady, more sweet and tender than any one you had shared before.

when he separates from you, you can’t speak. you have no idea what’s going on through his head, and you want more than anything to just go home.

“i’m more sober than i’ve ever been, please just listen to me. i didn’t mean it like that, ok?” jaehyun explains. you stay silent, and he takes that as his cue to continue.

“i want more than anything to fuck you, pretty, i wanted to back then and i want to now.” you start to speak, wanting to question him, but he continues.

“it’s just, i know i’m not exactly the, uh, most innocent person out here..? i mean- i’ve done a lot with different people, but with you… i couldn’t just do what i always do..” he admits.

you raise your eyebrows, still trying to understand what he’s getting across as your heart finds a new spark of hope that you desperately try to extinguish.

“i didn’t want you to just be a quick fuck, i still don’t. i want to take my time, to treat you like you deserve, and that wasn’t the time and place for that,” he explains, looking down at your hands in his with a guilty expression.

“..then why didn’t you say that?” you asked him, still trying to process. the spark of hope is burning hotter and brighter by the second.

“believe me, i wanted to.. but i was such a pussy about it, i kept telling myself i should wait to talk to you in person, and then you stopped showing up.” he grimaces.

“i’m sorry for acting like a jerk earlier, i wanted to apologize for all of this, but then i saw you going upstairs with jungwoo.. and then he came back down, and you didn’t,” jaehyun rambles, trying to articulate his feelings.

“you could never mooch off me, i’m actually happy whenever you come find me.. you know i always roll an extra joint or two hoping you’ll show up?” the tips of his ears redden at his revelation.

“i hope i’m not just the weed guy to you, because i think— no, i know you’re so much more to me than just that,” he confesses, finally looking you in the eye.

“i don’t know what you’ve got going on with jungwoo, but i don’t like it, at all," he concludes.

“and what about your friends?” you ask incredulously. it’s feeling a but too good to be true.

“i stopped fucking around a while ago, way before jungwoo’s birthday,” he assures.

“but.. jungwoo said-” you start.

“fuck whatever he said, he was drunk and i just wasn’t feeling social that night,” he recalls that night, wishing it had ended differently than it did. he squeezes your hands.

“i just know i could treat you so much better than jungwoo ever could, than anyone could, and i want to.” his eyes are softer than before, and you melt at his confession.

for the first time in a while, you are glad you’re both sober. you know that what he’s saying is all his own thoughts.

you come closer, wrapping your arms around him, restless heart now full of ease and excitement. “i’m not fucking jungwoo, i was just messing with you because i was angry,” you explain.

he wraps his arms around your waist, head falling onto your shoulder with a sigh of relief. “thank god.. i thought i was going to have to fight one of my best friends.”

you laugh, feeling your heart lighten, but you feel the unmistakable ache from between your legs. you got a taste of him, and you wanted it all now.

“so are you gonna show me just how good you can treat me? orr…”

“oh baby, say less.” he jumps into action quickly, pushing you to lie on your back.

he lowers himself between your legs, nipping at your thighs.

you get shy, and he sees you covering your face with your hands. he moves to grab them, holding your hands at your side.

“look at me, pretty,” he says in that deep voice of his, and the sight of him between your legs is unreal, hair falling over his pretty face. not breaking eye contact, he brings his mouth down to your core.

your legs start to close and he nudges them back with his chin. he gives you a few kitten licks, testing the water before diving in with the same passion he gave your lips earlier, slurping at your core messily.

he watches your face, contorting with pleasure as your hands strain at his grip, and he moves to lace his fingers through yours, not letting up at all as continues to lap you up.

you’re already sensitive from earlier, and he has you cumming in no time with a harsh suck on your clit and his thumb entering you shallowly. you’re dizzy from the orgasm, and he releases your hands.

as you catch your breath, he lays kisses all the way up until he reaches your face, pecking you all over. you feel his aching hard member at your thigh, and you want him so badly.

“can i fuck you now, baby?” he asks gently, hearts radiating from his eyes. “i’m so hard i could burst any second now.”

you laugh, still in disbelief that the man you thought hated you is now in your arms like a lovesick puppy.

“anything you want jae, i’m all yours,” you beam. at your words, the energy shifts completely and jaehyun is more eager than ever.

already slotted between your legs, he gives you big smooch before he sits upright to line himself up with your core. he lifts your hips up slightly, and starts to push into you slowly.

he moves his eyes from where your lower bodies meet to your face, watching how your expression shifts with each inch.

“i’m so happy i can see your face,” he muses, breath quickening as he bottoms out with a deep groan, “can see how good i fuck my baby.”

he moves a hand over your thigh reassuringly before holding your his in a firm grip. he starts moving his hips into you, and the pleasure of him reaching deep into you has your eyes rolling back.

“so g-good for me, and only me,” he chokes out with gritted teeth as he pounds into you. the sight of him above you is all too much — body illuminated from the dim warm lighting of the bedroom lamp, neck straining as his hooded eyes never leave yours.

the pleasure is so dizzying and the sight of him has you melting. you reach out your arms to him, and he too melts at the sight of you wanting him in your arms.

he moves over you so he can hold you, continuing to slam into you once you’ve gripped onto him. your nails scratch at his back as he hits a spot just right, and it has you seeing stars.

you shut your eyes tight as jaehyun’s hips snap into you hard, feeling pressure build in your stomach.

“ah, sh-shit, so close baby. look at me, baby, let me see you,” he groans out, moving to his forearms to hover above you while his hips do not falter in the slightest.

you open your eyes to see him, expression enamored as he bites his lip in concentration. his lips fall into a grin as he meets your eyes. you clench, feeling your heart fill with affection.

“cum for me baby, please, need to feel you cum around me before i fucking explode,” jaehyun grunts, voice deep and strained.

you nod, moving your hips up to meet his thrusts. only the sound of your moans, his grunts, and skin on skin fill the room, getting louder and faster until you cum around him with a loud cry.

he groans loudly at this, feeling himself finish the second your orgasm has you squeezing him too tightly. he thrusts shallowly, riding out both your orgasms as he holds you close, lips meeting yours hungrily.

as he comes to a stop, the two of you lay there kissing, just basking in the warmth of each other’s embrace. your lips slow against each other, and he starts to give you little pecks until you hear the creaking of the door. oh shit.

“__ are you o- WHAT. THE. FUCK.” a red-faced jungwoo stands there in disbelief. he’s clearly intoxicated, not knowing if this is a drunk dream. “really? in my fucking bed??”

you hide your face out of shame and jaehyun just smiles shamelessly from under his roommate’s covers.

“i’ll wash the sheets, just take my room,” he says nonchalantly.

“hell no, i’m gonna crash in johnny’s, this room better be spotless tomorrow..” with that jungwoo turns on his heel, slamming the door behind him.

“fuck, i think we really made him mad,” you say worriedly to jaehyun. you feel bad given how jungwoo had cared for you earlier.

“nah, don’t worry about it, we’ll make it up to him,” jaehyun muses, looking at you before pulling the covers off. he smiles big, dimples on full display, taking in your features and brushing a stray thread from your forehead.

you lean up to surprise him with a sweet kiss, and he returns it eagerly. he pulls back, beaming at you with a slight rosy red tint to his cheeks.

“actually, i need to end tonight with you in my bed and my clothes, so let’s take it back to mine.” he grins cheekily as he nuzzles into you, and you can’t help but smile.

“maybe let’s take a quick shower first?” you suggest, poking him in the side.

in a flash, he’s up, tugging you alongside him as you both make your way to jungwoo’s bathroom.

“whatever my baby wants,” he beams, lips meeting yours as he shuts the bathroom door behind him.

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a/n: thank you all so much for reading and for everyone who interacted with the preview, hope you enjoy!!! i wanted to post this for 127 day, but it's coming a little late. hope everyone is taking care, shares and feedback are always appreciated! ♡

⋆ coco ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

#nct smut #stoner!nct #nct x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #nct 127 smut #coco writes

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luvyeni · 8 months

Note

Yay okay can I please request an Anton fic Where he’s a virgin and he tells reader that he wants her to take his virginity but he’s really shy so y/n suggests they start off slow so she starts making out with him and dry humping him but then he tells her he wants to cum in her hand so she jerks him off that way and he does it all over her and it gets everywhere and it’s just messy and-

Tell me you understand my vison user luvyeni on Tumblr 🤭🤭?? Anyways that’s my request 😜

❛GOOD BOY❜ ( l. anton )

p. nerd!anton x popular!reader wc. 1.4k

warnings? dry humping, handjob, cumming w/o penetration

— 𖦹 ( helping out your shy boyfriend ) !

anton often truly wondered what he had done in his past life for him to been able to get a girlfriend as wonderful as you. you were incredibly smart, probably even smart as him always on top of your classes. not only were you smart, but you were also one of the popular girls, but you weren’t like the stereotypical mean bully mean girl; you were kind to everyone, never saying anything bad about everyone, even a loner nerd like him.

you guys met actually because you came to his rescue – one of the football players, who also happened to be your boyfriend at the time and his other friends would often come and corner the boy, stealing his money, throwing his things to the floor. you saw what happened, quickly coming to his defense, breaking up with the boy in front of everyone, quick guiding the boy away from danger, holding his books.

soon a cute little friendship formed, you’d leave all your friends and people who’d crowded around you, just to walk over to his table to sit with him and eat your lunch.

anyone would fall for a girl like you, anton included – and now that you were showing him all this affection, he’d fallen head over heels for you. but crazy enough, you beat him to it, you were actually the one who asked him on a date – you were even the one to ask him to be your boyfriend, which he of course said yes.

if anton could change one thing about himself, it would be how shy he would get around you, he wished he could voice what he wanted to you whenever he wanted – especially when it came to sex. he was a virgin obviously, the only thing he’d done was a few make out sessions, and that was with you.

he knew you were much more experienced than he was, and he could never satisfy you, but what would he be if he didn’t try. but even now, you were laying on his bed, your skirt riding up exposing your thighs, his pants growing tight, he still was too shy to speak up.

“anton?” you snapped your fingers in his face. “love, what’s wrong?” you said now sitting on your knees in front of him. “n-nothing, i’m fine.” his soft voice making you smile. “you don’t seem fine, what’s going on in that head of yours?” you placed your hand on his thigh, right below his growing cock, his breath hitched, he prayed you didn’t hear him. “i-i’m fine.”

you sighed, bringing your other hand to his forehead. “are you sick? do you need medicine?” you questioned, his face was now beat red, your hand was centimeters away from his bulge. “you’re burning up.”

you didn’t know what you were doing, you genuinely were concerned about him, but he didn’t know how much longer he could take it before his voice betrayed him. “anton just tell me, i won’t judge you love.” your hand came from his forehead to his cheek, caressing it.

he gulped, now was the time to man up. “i -um- iwantyoutotakemyvirginity.” he spoke so fast, his voice was still hushed, but you heard everything he said. “i know it’s embarrassing, but– no it’s not baby.” you reassured him. “i’ve told you, you will never embarrass me.” you kissed his lips, pulling away with a smile.

“it’s okay to be a virgin anton, let’s just take it slow, okay?” he nodded, he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “hey.” you called, climbing into his lap – this wasn’t new, but it still always shocked him. “you’re already hard.” you cocked your head to the side. “i-i’m sorry, i couldn’t hmph.” you shut him up with another kiss.

“stop apologizing for stuff that’s normal, look let’s just take it slow, okay?” you said softly ran your hands through his hair. “let’s start with what we know.” he nodded, you grabbed the sides of his face, kissing him, taking the lead like you always did, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

he kept his hands at his side, gripping the sheets in attempts to calm himself down, but with the way you were sitting directly on his cock, it was getting hard to control himself. you pulled away, grabbing his hands, placing them high on your thighs, under your skirt. “it’s okay, you can touch me.”

he let out a whimper, his cock was now painfully hard, he felt like he was gonna cum just from this – just from you sitting on him while kissing. you smiled against his lips, pulling away, he chased your lips, you giggled, wiping the spit from his lips. “so cute.”

“i-i…” he stopped, unable to speak. “what is it baby, tell me what you want.” you said. “c-can you move, it hurts.” whimpered out again. “of course, i can, such a good boy for speaking up.” you began to move your hips, he moaned – the feeling of the material from his underwear rubbing against his cock had him feeling dizzy.

not only that, but you were also moaning, your shirt unbuttoned revealing your bra, your boobs peaking from from the top – thinking about what he wanted to do to them had him about to cum, but he didn’t want to cum like this, he wanted more. “m-more.”

you stopped moving, your hands placed on his shoulders to keep yourself up. “you want more, pretty boy.” he whimpered at the name, nodding. “pl-please.” he said looking up at you with his wide doe eyes. “okay, i’ll give you more.”

you climbed off his lap, he looked at you confused. “i told you, we’re taking it slow.” you sat on the side of him, unbuckling his pants. “next time you’ll be able to fuck me, let’s not overwhelm you too much.” he nodded, you smiled. “good boy, lift your hips up for me.” you pulled his pants down enough to pull his cock from its confinements, he was average sized, a little bit on the thinner side, but you believed it would be enough to satisfy you once he learned to use it right. “such a pretty cock.” you praised; his ears turned red. “d-don’t say that.” you chuckled.

“but it is.” you ran your finger down the base of his length, he hissed, his cock twitching below your fingernail. “gonna jerk your pretty cock off, okay?” truth be told, you would love to fuck him, he looked so cute, and you were extremely horny, but you knew he wasn’t gonna last long, and you didn’t want him to feel self-conscious about cumming before you did. “w-what about you?” you wrapped your hand around his cock. “fu-fuck.” he cursed, surprising you both, he hardly used those words, unless he was really frustrated. “don’t worry about me love.” you began to stroke his cock slowly. “this is about you.”

his head was thrown back against the headboard, eyes sealed as you began to move your hand faster. “you’re doing so well for me, can you look at me please.” you cooed, he forced his eyes opened, making eye contact with your soft ones. “you feeling good?” you questioned, he moaned nodding. “i-it f-feels good, really g-good.”

“good that all that matters, you gonna cum?” he nodded, he could feel it, he wanted to last longer, but you were squeezing his base, and praising him – he could no longer hold it. “gonna cum.” you stroke him faster, his legs began to twitch, he could feel the cum filling up in his balls, ready to be released.

“i-i’m cu-cu…” he was speechless, he could barely get the words out before it was too late, white fluid came shoot out from his tip, getting everywhere, he came so much. it was all over your hands, some landing on your uncovered chest, on his shirt, even a little bit landed on your chin. “i-i’m sorry, i did–.” you kissed him. “so cute, you came so much.” you praised. “good boy.”

you cleaned yourself up, helping the boy clean himself up. “you feeling okay?” he shyly nodded. “th-thank you for that.” he spoke. “i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.” he frowned, you grabbed his hand in reinsurance. “it’s fine anton, really we have all the time in the world to have sex okay?” you kissed his cheek. “o-okay.”

“good boy”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop x y/n #kpop fic #riize x reader #rizze x reader #riize scenarios #riize x imagine #riize imagines

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motherjoel · 1 year

Text

arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room.

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night.

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch.

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base.

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you.

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going.

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about.

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in.

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels.

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen.

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision.

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now.

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good.

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak.

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart.

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

3K notes · View notes

lipringlrh · 8 months

Text

race for your heart | mv1

summary: you’re not meant to be there, but you can’t stay away, especially not from the racer who can’t stop winning.

pairing: illegal street racer!max x fem!reader

an: might be my fave thing i’ve ever written. thinking of making this a mini series, thoughts? i’m also not an illegal street racer and have never seen one so might not be accurate x

word count: 3.7k

warnings: illegal, police chase, speeding, mentions of drugs and dodgy men

feedback appreciated and requests open!!

…

You'd been here a few times before, not regularly, never more than twice a month, but enough times to know how everything goes. You weren't meant to be here the first time, you found it by a complete accident but you were grateful now. It filled you with both excitement and dread to be here. It was illegal and wrong, nevermind the fact someone could die.

The place was crawling with creeps and criminals everywhere, one wrong move or one wrong sentence could get you on the wrong side of some dangerous people, but you lived for the thrill. The danger of the drive, and watching the drivers do it. In brand new sports cars you could only dream of affording. You didn't really know much about the drivers, except one.

Max.

He caught your eye instantly when you'd first shown. He was stood there, head to toe in black, his arm placed carefully on his car, showing off all the right bits. He was the reason you kept coming back. He was fast, quicker than all the other drivers, and everyone knew it. He was the one people wanted to challenge, to beat, but they never seemed to.

You'd seen the bets. The money people were giving to the winner after every race. More money than you knew what to do with. You craved it, the luxury and the lifestyle, but it seemed impossible. You weren't a fast driver, and you weren't a criminal by any means yet you still found yourself drawn here every time. And drawn to the driver everyone deemed untouchable.

He was the same today: a winner. You never expected any different, no one did. All the prizes were handed to him on a gold platter. Crowds cheered for him, men patting him on the back as he got out of his car to grab a beer. He met your eye again as he sat at the bar. He was left alone now, the crowds already moving on to the next big thing to talk about. He didn't look away, and for the second time, he found himself walking over to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, again?" He grumbled, taking a sip of his beer. He changed his clothes after the race, now dressed in a white button-down and jeans.

He was weary of you the first time you met. You looked lost, you were, and you were not the kind of person to be here. You looked too pure and good to be surrounded by lousy criminals with more money than they knew what to do with. He wondered if you were with the police, trying to scope out the area and shut it down, but he learned quickly he was wrong.

You explained you were lost and he blindly believed you. He was worried once you figured out what you were doing that you would go to the police but he made you promise you wouldn't, and after he watched how your knees went weak after he called you a "good girl," he knew you wouldn't.

He saw you the next few times you went, looking less and less lost every time, but he never caught your eye long enough to feel confident in walking over. "Can you imagine that?" He thought to himself, "I'm treated as though I'm a fucking god around here and I still can't talk to a girl." He beat himself down over it, watching you interact with people he never wanted you to talk to, in fear they'd ruin the pure image he'd created of you in his head. So he watched from afar, giving creeps the eye long enough to scare them off. Of course, you didn't know it was him sending these men away, but sometimes you were grateful and other times you weren't. He felt bad for a moment before not caring again. "It's to keep her safe," he promised to himself every time.

You didn't reply to him immediately, instead drinking in his appearance: the way his face looked under the moonlight, the way his jaw locked when you didn't reply, and the way his shirt stretched over his muscles perfectly, letting you see everything.

"So?" he replied, smirking, watching you look him up and down more times than he could count, "are you going to answer me?"

You're eyes flew to his face again, watching as he became more confident the longer he saw you looking.

"What did you ask?" you mumbled, holding eye contact.

"I said: "What's a pretty girl like you doing here alone, again?" Think you can answer that?" he challenged, taking a step closer. He saw what he did to other girls, how he made them crumble, but nothing compared to you, and how he loved watching his effect on you.

"I- well, I just came for a beer?" you answered, sounding more unconfident the more you went on. You knew why you were here: because you liked it, but you didn't want to. It was criminal yet here you were, enjoying the thrill and the danger. And watching Max, racing or not.

"And the last time? And the time before that? You don't seem like the type of girl to go out drinking alone, especially to the type of place so dirty and illegal." He asked, teasing, stepping closer once again. His voice was growing louder even as he got closer until he was touching you and leaning down to whisper in your ear, "I think you like it, don't you?"

Your body shuddered at the closeness, your hand flying straight to his arm to keep balance. Instead, you made it worse for yourself, grabbing straight onto his muscles, and turning your face the slightest shade of red. You hoped Max wouldn't be able to see - you were too close and there wasn't much light, but you were very wrong. Crowds moved everywhere around you, but all of Max's focus was on you. It was impossible for him not to notice, he was trying to pick up on every detail that he could about you.

His head lifted back up so you could see him fully like he could see you. Your faces were barely apart, a few centimetres at best, but it still messed with your head, a million thoughts flying everywhere at once until there were none. None other than Max and what his lips would feel like pressed against yours.

You let out the slightest nod as a response to his question. You didn't want to admit you liked it but with Max so close to you it was the only reaction you could even fathom of giving. He was messing with your head and he hasn't even done anything yet.

"Are you going to answer me like a good girl or just stand there?" he says, with the cockiest attitude you'd ever seen. He knew what he did to you, and what else those two little words would do, and he loved it.

Before you got the chance to reply, you felt pressure on your back and you were pushed into Max. He grabbed you and kept you upright, but he couldn't miss the sudden uproar of the crowd and the fact they were all running in the same direction.

He gave you a once over to make sure you were alright before looking forward to try to see what was happening. People were screaming and running and he couldn't tell why. His arms wrapped around you in a protective manner, pulling you closer in an attempt to keep you safe.

So many people were shouting at him and he couldn't make out what anyone was saying. He was trying to figure it out but it seemed impossible. You were almost pushed again but the person managed to stop themselves. Max didn't care, he was almost starting to shout at them for their recklessness until he finally found out what was happening.

"Police! Run!" the man screamed at him before carrying on running himself. It was like his fight or flight mode kicked in and he wasn't going to get caught.

"My car," he said as he realised an escape plane, telling you at the same time. He found your hand and took off running, dragging you with him. He led you both to the side of the crowd so that you wouldn't get lost and led you quickly to his car.

Police were everywhere, especially near the cars. They were parked on the road but out of the way of the runners. Many of them were unregistered or stolen, and others held bags upon bags of drugs. Police were stood by his car, trying to look inside the windows for anything immediately suspicious. They were covering the drivers side and he knew he would have to be fast.

"When I jump across to the drivers side, get into the passenger seat and shut the door," he called back to you. You processed the information, barely, and nodded, but Max was already focused on using his free hand to find his keys.

He got them, twisting them around, and unlocking the car just as he was about to reach it. The police were looking in the backseat, but were too slow to process the flashing orange lights and the doors at the opposite side opening.

Max leaped in and switched sides like a machine, doing it with so much ease it seemed impossible. He grabbed the driver's side door, holding it close as officers tried to open it.

"Get in," he screamed, watching as you paused for a moment. You made eye contact with an officer whilst quickly overthinking your whole life up until this moment. How did this happen?

You couldn't think much longer and you got inside, shutting the door shut with a slam. You let out a sigh of relief much too quickly as your breath hitched with the speed the car had just started.

Max locked the doors and took off in a flash. The car sped up in an instant, going to speeds you never dreamed of. Max was absorbed into the roads, dodging people and officers as he tried to escape.

Your hand gripped the seats until your knuckles were white; this was not a situation you ever wanted to be in. Max noticed, taking his eyes off of the road every few seconds to double-check you were okay.

"I do this every day and I've never got hurt," his eyes flicked back to your face after trying to reassure you, which was obviously failing.

"You won't get into trouble with the police either." he tried again. After looking at you again, he realised how badly he was failing. He didn't know what to do. He was fine in situations like these and had never had to comfort anyone. Every solution was running through his mind, not only to get out of here safe and alive but to make sure you knew that.

"Hold my hand," he ordered softly, holding out his hand for you to grab.

"Don't you need to focus on driving?" you questioned, worried. He laughed and lifted his other hand off of the wheel too. When he saw your face he immediately put it back on but kept the other outstretched for you to grab.

You looked at it for a second before grabbing it, interlacing your fingers together, and bringing your hands to rest on top of your thighs. His thumb immediately started traveling back and forth along the back of your hand as you decided to focus on that rather than the road in front of you.

"I promise you I will keep you safe. Nothing bad will happen," he spoke gently. He smiled at you, not that you were looking, but he thought that it might lift the mood anyway. "Trust me," he added, in the softest tone he thought he'd ever spoken with. He shook his head - he was going soft for a girl he's only ever spoken to twice.

You nodded gently, genuinely trusting him for a moment. That all faded when you started hearing sirens in the distance, getting closer and closer.

Max looked through the wing mirrors before speeding up the car even more. You subconsciously squeezed his hand more, gripping it like a vice.

"Okay, pretty girl, I'm going to need my hand back but it's only to keep you safe. I promise I'm going to keep you safe." You didn't believe him but you tried anyway.

You let go of his hand reluctantly, going back to squeezing the seats. You let out a shaky breath and tried to see what was going on behind you. You were on a motorway, going much higher than the speed limit. You could see three police cars in your view, all trying to catch you up.

Max hit the pedal again, speeding up impossibly faster. His eyes were on the road, occasionally on the police behind him and occasionally on you. If he had it his way, they'd be always on you, but he promised to keep you safe and was doing his damn best to keep it.

"We're going faster than their cars can physically go. We'll lose them in no time." He did another once over of you, taking in how petrified you looked once again. "Sitting so tense is going to make you more tense. I don't want you to worry yourself sick."

"Sorry," you mumbled, taking a quick look in the mirrors to see the police much further in the distance than you thought they would be.

"Don't apologise, pretty girl." he spoke, moving the car to the first lane.

He went round a sharp turn, almost heading onto a junction exit but only just missing it. He sped up again, heading around the next corner with flying speed.

"The police will think we just turned off, we'll turn off at the next one." You just nodded, going along with everything. You barely knew the man yet you were on a literal police chase with him.

He slowed the car down to a normal speed, placing his hand back into yours, "see, we're okay."

"We're okay," you repeated, trying to reassure yourself. His thumb was back to tracing lines on the back of your hand and it was helping you more than you'd like to admit.

It wasn't long until you turned off, traveling at a normal speed down some city suburb roads. You headed into an area you'd never seen, full of some of the biggest houses you imagined the city had to offer. You didn't even know where you were going yet you trusted Max blindly.

He parked in front of a huge residence, with all sorts of fancy cars parked in front. You imagined multiple massive families could live there with tonnes of spare space due to the sheer size of the front alone. It was truly extraordinanry.

"Where are we?" You questioned. Max had turned off the car and leaned back in his seat. His hand never left yours, and his thumb never stopped brushing back and forth.

"My home," he spoke, watching your face convey more emotions than he thought was possible. Your mind was racing a mile a minute: what did he want from you? was he kidnapping you? did he want something in return for saving you? You didn't like the thought of what was happening at all but Max read you easily.

"I can drive you back home if you'd prefer. Or take you somewhere, get you a hotel, anything," he spoke sincerely. He fully believed anything you'd want him to do, he would do for you, and he would go to the ends of the world to do it.

"I don't think I can be alone right now." You said, training your eyes onto yours and Max's hand.

"I can take you to a friend's? I can stay with you? I can take you somewhere crowded? Whatever you want me to do, I will do." He said, promising himself he would do whatever you wanted.

It was stupid - so stupid - the way Max had made you feel safe and the fact you wanted to stay by him. Not one thing led to the conclusion that he was a good man yet you still wanted to stay.

"My house is probably over an hour away." You knew Max could drive fast, you knew he could get you there much quicker but you didn't want to leave him. You looked out the window, at his house.

Max saw the way you looked at it, longingly yet worriedly. He didn't want to push you to make a decision, he wanted you to say it himself. He gave you hand a few reassuring squeezes, urging you to say what you felt.

"I want to stay with you," you whispered. You still stared at his house in horror and amusement. Max could see you in the reflection and could feel the worry radiating off you - he wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe.

"Let's go to a hotel." he said, your head immediately flicking back to look at his, "We can get different rooms if you'd like, but if you'd feel more comfortable there, we can go. It's no problem at all."

"Yes please," you nodded, grateful for Max's thinking. The more he was talking, the more comfortable and safe you felt around him. Past you would probably be calling yourself stupid in every way you knew how, but you felt like it'd be okay this time.

He drove off carefully, sticking to all the speed limits, something he rarely did when he was alone. He took you to a nearby hotel, only a ten-minute drive away. It was a lovely-looking hotel, something you'd never check yourself into though when you could just get the classic cheap ones that always worked fine.

"You okay?" Max asked carefully as you peered outside.

"This looks expensive, Max."

God, he loved when you said his name. You hadn't said it a lot but he felt like he could get addicted every time.

He chuckled in amusement, "I've got more money than I could use if I tried, it's on me."

You nodded and opened the car door, unfortunately dropping Max's hand in the process. Not for long though, as Max whipped around the side of the car to grab it again after muttering a small, "let me open it for you next time," to you.

He ordered two separate rooms but made sure they were next to each other and handed you both keys to your room and the spare keys to his, making you promise to let yourself in of you needed anything.

You felt yourself drawn to him, becoming disappointed as he left you to your own room, longing for more. You led in bed, in the same clothes you'd been wearing all day, wanting nothing more than to just be with him again.

You also couldn't stop thinking about the night that passed and how it could've ended much differently. You were reckless and a complete disaster of a person but you didn't think you would change it if you could.

So you left. You got all your belongings and you knocked on Max's room. He opened the door rather quickly, with a sudden look of confusion on his face when he realised it was you.

His hair was messy and stuck up in every direction but he still looked flawless. He had no shirt or pants on, just boxers, and you couldn't help but admire his whole body.

"Are you okay? Just let yourself in next time. What happened?" he asked frantically, worry laced all over his voice.

"Can I stay with you?" You asked nervously, refusing to look at his face.

"Of course, pretty girl," he replied with no hesitation, he would do anything to have you nearby. He stepped aside and welcomed you in, taking everything out of your hands and placing it on a table.

"You take the bed. I can either join you, take the sofa out here or take the chair in the bed room. And here," he said, picking up the shirt he'd changed into after racing, "take this, you can't be comfortable sleeping in that."

You took the shirt with a "thank you," and got changed in the bedroom. The shirt was long enough that you couldn't see anything if you tried, and it was incredibly comfy.

You poked your head out of the bedroom to see Max half asleep with his head in his hands. You gently called his name, his head jolting suddenly towards you.

"Will you stay with me?" you asked, a lot more confidently than before, but still a little shaky.

Max got up with a nod and headed inside the bedroom. He watched you get comfortable in bed and snuggled into the side you hadn't chosen.

You immediately moved towards him, throwing a leg over his, and your head on top of his chest. His arms moved instinctively around you, pulling you impossibly closer. He was so tired but wasn't going to waste an opportunity of staring at you a little longer.

"Sorry the night didn't turn out how you planned," he mumbled, wanting so badly to kiss your forehead but didn't want to overstep boundaries, "and sorry for scaring you."

"It's okay Max," you whispered, turning your head to kiss his chest ever so delicately. He decided to kiss your head in retaliation, smiling all the way through it.

"Tell me if you want to go again and I'll be there," he chuckled against your head, "goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight, Max."

…

this might be my favourite thing i’ve ever written so reblogs and feedback would be really appreciated !! :) also thinking of making this a mini series, thoughts?

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astr0logywh0r3 · 4 months

Text

astro observations pt. 2

1.) venus square mars ppl have trouble with balancing their masculine and feminine energies. they can feel this internally and it can make them feel insecure. one second they feel hyper feminine and the next they feel more masculine. they wish they could find a way to balance both sides of them but it’s a struggle. they could come off too strong from time to time as a result of their inner conflict (might come off too strongly feminine or masc in the moment) and then they’d feel bad ab it later

2.) i think neptune in the 1st/conjunct the asc might be good at making other people feel special 🤨

3.) mars-pluto ppl have that confident inner power within themselves

4.) cancer risings remind me of fluttershy from mlp 💀

5.) saturn conjunct asc/in 1st house might have been extremely shy kids. they have a lot of determination within themselves though. makes a very strong-willed person. go after what they want with resilience and understand the importance of taking calculated steps to achieve their desires. definitely the no-bullshit type

6.) pluto on the ascendant always reminds me of tony montana from scarface for some reason 😭. i guess it makes sense since al pacino has pluto conjunct his asc so idk. it’s just that archetype. tony wasn’t afraid and didn’t stop at anything to reach where he got. a phoenix risen from the ashes. stubborn. that “don’t tell me what tf to do” type energy. intense, babe. their eyes are crazy too (it’s like they store all their inner intensity and deep emotions in their eyes ..lotta depth). also the no-bullshit type. if they’re mad at you ……be afraid 💀 they will plot revenge and start conspiring some shit

7.) taurus risings are pretty in a “oh, they’re cute” way. they have short little noses and pretty eyes

8.) pisces risings… are y’all good at telling stories? 😭 i think you guys get a little sidetracked

9.) chart ruler in the 9th makes someone adventurous… they just wanna explore and do everything. try everything there is at least once. could have a great sense of humor too

10.) scorpio moons are really protective of their family. they guard their families just like they guard their emotions

11.) unpopular opinion but scorpios aren’t mysterious to me 😐 i’m not sure id call any zodiac sign mysterious tbh it really depends on the whole chart. scorpios to me are just super honest people who have pragmatic opinions that they aren’t afraid to state out loud. if a scorpio has an opinion they feel strongly about they won’t be afraid to let others know how they feel, which i admire about them to an extent. they like getting to the nitty gritty of situations. some of them can actually be very kind people. funny as well due to their honesty and boldness. oh, and they just love dark reds. search up “maroon” and that is literally their staple color you cannot tell me otherwise

12.) i’ve met leos who i’ve found boring before which goes against their stereotype 💀 sometimes their personalities are just the bare minimum honestly unless the rest of the chart says otherwise

13.) mars in the 11th have big dreams for themselves. they wanna make a difference.

14.) 8th house sun makes someone intriguing and mysterious. it can also be a placement that grants beauty.

15.) moon in the 4th just wanna belong.

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suugarbabe · 10 months

Text

Softer Side (Pt 2)

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: smut adjacent? Lil fluff

The door to potions slammed open as Mattheo and his gang of friends filed in for class. His eyes met yours briefly before sitting at the table in front of you. “He truly is a right prick isn’t he,” the boy to your left whispered. “Who is?” You asked, not really paying attention to him. “Riddle and his band of miscreants,” the boy stated. You scoffed slightly, “Have you ever even spoken to Mattheo?” Your question puzzled him, “Do I need to?” You rolled your eyes, turning away from him for the rest of the lesson.

When you were finally let out you got up quickly, wanting to separate yourself from the ignorance of the boy next to you in class. You felt someone fall in step next to you. You turned to tell them off when you were met with a dimpled grin. “Hello, Princess,” Mattheo sweetly spoke. You couldn’t control the blush that creeped onto your cheeks, “Hello, Mattheo. To what do I owe this pleasure of your presence?”

“Darling if just my presence is giving you pleasure…” he trailed off, smirk plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder. “What are you really doing walking with me Mattheo? Won’t being seen with a pathetic Ravenclaw ruin your bad boy reputation?” You teased. Instead of playfully jabbing back Mattheo’s face turned serious, “I don’t think you’re pathetic, Y/n.” He threw an arm over your shoulder, “I also was just going to tell you how sweet it is when you defend me.”

“I wa- I mean, I just don’t think people really know the real you,” you stammered. Mattheo quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? And you think you do?” His tone was playful. You hadn’t even noticed he had guided you toward the Slytherin common you as you walked together. “What are we doing here? We’re going to miss Herbology,” you voice was soft. Truly you didn’t care about any class if Mattheo wanted to spend time with you.

“I figured you could tell me what you think you know about me, we’ll be alone in here,” he turned back to the portrait. Password, the snakes hissed. “Pura sanguine.” You rolled your eyes as you followed him into the common room, “Pureblood? How original.” He smiled at you over his shoulder, “Would you expect anything less?”

He led you to the black leather couches. You wouldn’t tell anyone else, but you quite liked the aesthetic of the Slytherin common room. You could see yourself spending a lot of time down here. “Sit,” Mattheo patted the spot next to him. You sat almost too obediently, making a small chuckle leave Mattheo’s throat. You blushed, pulling one leg to your chest and resting your chin on your knee.

“Oh don’t get shy on me now, love. We’re all alone now. So tell me, what do you think you know about me.” He was facing you on the couch, his elbow leaning on the back as he rested his head against his fist. He had his famous shit eating grin, waiting for you to speak. You took a deep breath before starting, “I see you being a good person.” He raised his eyebrows, an amused look on his face before indicating with his hand for you to continue.

“I see you doing good things when you think no one is paying attention.”

“Oh, so you’re watching me, hmm?” You blushed at his words, “I don’t mean to, but after that first time I saw save that girl a few months ago I had to see if it was just a one off thing.” He grabbed one of your hands, tracing shapes in your palm, “And what did you discover, love?”

“That when no one’s looking, you essentially challenge every Slytherin stereotype. I’ve seen you volunteer your time in the library, clean up after your friends, I swear I even saw you laughing with a house elf last week.”

Mattheo smiled at this, “Winky is one funny lady, you should really get to know her if you get a chance.” You shook your head, smiling, “Well if you’re truly this kind and sweet person, why don’t you show it all of the time?” He sat up a little straighter, putting on a mocking tone, “Because it would ruin my bad boy reputation, right?”

“You are…so confusing sometimes,” you grabbed his hand that was holding yours before. “You allow people to have this idea of you, a terrible idea just because of your name, or your parents actions or who you associate yourself with. Why do you do that?”

He shrugged his shoulders, watching your fingers trace the scars on his knuckles, “Because I don’t care about what other people think, I know who I am. Other people’s opinions don’t bother me.” You nodded, “I wish I could live like that.”

“What, you can’t take people thinking you’re smart and beautiful?” Mattheo chuckled. You blushed at his words, “People don’t think that about me.” Mattheo leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours ever so slightly. His breath fanned over your lips as he responded, “Well they should.”

In a moment his lips were crashing against yours. Your hand found it’s way to brown locks, instantly pulling on his curls. He growled into the kiss, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap. You rolled your hips down, feeling him grow hard beneath you. He grabbed your hips tighter, bucking his hips up to meet yours. A gasp escaped your lips as Mattheo’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking, sure to leave a mark or two. Mattheo pulled back, admiring his work.

“These are gonna look so pretty tomorrow,” he smirked, tracing the marks on your neck. Your cheeks burned red as your buried your face in his chest. His hands rested just above your bum, lightly tracing his fingers up and down your back. You felt his chest rumbled as he chuckled lightly, “You know you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You sat up, pushing a curl off his forehead, “I’m glad you think so.” You sighed deeply, “I can’t believe the Mattheo Riddle just gave me a trail of hickies. What will people say?” You feigned a shock face, placing a hand on your cheek. He grabbed your wrist, placing a kiss on the inside of it, “Why don’t we go see, yeah?” He picked you up by your waist, helping you stand up, following suit himself. He grabbed your hand, smiling as he led you out of the common room.

#harry potter #golden era #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x you #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #theodore nott

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hanjisick · 1 year

Text

— COOKIES

order #6 of the coffee shop series: a cookie

ingredients. y/n x barista!felix. he’s never had a gf before. hopeless pining on felix’s end. mostly fluff with some angst. also the boys keep trying to play shitty wingmen again.

allergies. making out and felix being awkward

size. 3.2k

special add ons. felix is a sociable, confident, kind barista at yellow wood café. but once you show up on one rainy day, you turn him into a mess.

you hadn’t prepared for the rain to come so quickly.

the forecast had said that it would only pick up in the afternoon, and you figured that you would be home by then. so of course, you had left your umbrella at home.

you decided to run into the nearest building, hoping to stay there until the rain had died down a little.

it was a coffee shop, one that you hadn’t been to before. you had no clue how you didn’t know the place existed. it seemed like just your type of hang-out spot.

the difference between the café and outside was stark. looking through the windows, it was gloomy and intense, while inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy. the smell of coffee brewing and people chatting filled your senses.

“can i help you?” you had been staring off for a minute now, your entire body drenched in rain.

“sorry,” you apologized, “i was just looking for somewhere to be until the rain stopped.”

“you’re alright! could i get anything for you while you wait?”

your eyes stared the barista up and down. he was around your age— and was the epitome of sunshine. his features were gentle and strikingly beautiful.

his name tag read “felix.”

then, you drifted towards the menu on the counter, written in chalk, slightly smudged.

“are the cookies any good?” you questioned, staring at the cute plastic containers full of baked goods, specifically the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies.

“well, i baked them myself, so they better be good.” felix’s shy smile told you that he was proud of his baking.

“i’ll buy one and see for myself.”

usually, the freckled barista wasn’t nervous at comments like these, but your gentle eyes made his heart flip in ways that he didn’t quite understand. “will that be all?”

“for now.”

he rang you up, handing you the cookies straight out of the container.

without waiting to sit down, you bit into the cookie.

two of felix’s fingers met his neck, checking his pulse quickly— a nervous habit of his.

but his nerves turned into excitement as your eyes lit up.

“i’ll take two more cookies and a mocha, please!”

felix couldn’t help but smile widely, “our muffins are really good too. we have blueberry and chocolate chip right now, but i’m working on a recipe for a cappuccino muffin.”

you cut his ramble short, “i’ll try both. and a brownie.”

“got a sweet tooth?” he rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cardigan to begin making your mocha, “i don’t want you to get any cavities.”

“i’ll have just one bite of each and bring it home with me,” you reasoned, taking a stool at the bar, “i have nothing better to do, anyway. the rain says it’ll last for another hour.”

“so you’re gonna spend that hour taste-testing the treats?”

“i’ve never been here before, i better start working on my regular order.”

“will you be a new regular?”

“if the mocha is good. otherwise i think i’ll just go back out into the rain, i’m already drenched anyway.”

there you go again. causing felix to worry about how good his barista skills were in a way that nobody does.

he couldn’t help but drizzle a chocolate heart on top before handing it to you.

immediately felix jumped back. “your hands are freezing!”

“that’s what happens when you’re in the rain.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at felix’s concern. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i think this goes against every rule we have here,” felix shrugged off his cardigan, throwing it across the counter.

immediately your quiet laugh died down, your stomach twisting with butterflies. mostly at how kind the freckled boy was, but you couldn’t ignore the way that the white shirt under it clung to him tighter.

“thank you.” you wrapped yourself in the cardigan, breathing in a faint scent of a fruity perfume, almost masked by the overwhelming smell of coffee.

“felix,” chan, his boss, nudged him with a grin, “did you just do what i think you did?”

if it were any other barista, they would’ve been scolded. but felix had taken up a large spot in chan’s heart, one that meant that he refused to rebuke the boy.

“she was cold! right, y/n?” he defended, “she just came in from the rain outside.”

“so you’re just gonna give every customer your clothes if they’re cold?”

you could see a faint red tint forming on felix’s ears, “well no! but she’s new, i wanted to give her a warm welcome.”

there was a familiar look in chan’s eyes, one that felix could spot from miles away. one of knowing.

“alright then. i’m glad you were able to earn us a new customer. even if it meant giving up your clothes.”

“do you have any paper?” you interrupted with a mouthful of muffin, “and maybe a pen too?”

felix was thankful that you saved him from chan. “yeah! i’ll get it for you. hold on.”

thirty minutes later, once a spot of sunlight through the clouds had appeared, you were gone.

felix glanced over at your spot, sadness pulling on his heart, full of what if’s.

what if you didn’t come back? what if that was the last time he would see you?

he noticed the piece of paper left behind.

the title read, “felix’s bakery ranking.”

first place was the cookies. second was the brownies. then the chocolate chip muffin, then the blueberry.

“she must love chocolate,” felix jumped at jeongin’s voice from behind him, “she also got a mocha, right?”

“how do you know? you weren’t even here.”

“chan was telling the group chat.”

“he was doing what?” felix reached for the phone in his back pocket to confirm his words.

“talking about how you were mesmerized by that girl.”

“was not!”

“you totally were,” chan patted his back, “i’ve never seen you smile that wide.”

“says a lot for how much he smiles.”

felix groaned as jeongin flipped over the scrap paper.

“see you at 3 tomorrow,” he read out, looking up at felix whose eyes widened, turning to chan.

“i don’t work tomorrow! can i work tomorrow?”

“so it isn’t just you being kind?”

“i need to get my cardigan back.”

“you’re a terrible liar. just admit that you want to see her again.”

“just schedule me to work tomorrow!”

the next day, felix was walking on clouds.

the boy normally walked with a pep in his step, serving customers with a comfortable kindness that nobody else could replicate, but today there was an extra hint of sweetness to everything that he did. even some of the most unobservant customers had pointed it out.

but each of the boys knew exactly why he was acting the way that he was, thanks to the messages that chan had sent.

as the vintage clock on the wall inched closer and closer to 3, felix became more dazed, clumsy even.

“are you sure that he should be working right now?” minho shot chan a questioning look.

“just let him get it out of his system.”

“but we’re cleaning up his spill messes all for a girl that he had one conversation with. he’s hopeless.”

“i don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend before.”

“really?” minho’s eyebrows raised, “with how all of the girls stick to him like glue?”

“i don’t think he knows how much of a heartthrob he is.”

chan glanced towards felix, who was busy chatting with two girls who had stopped by just a few minutes ago, “he’s clueless sometimes.”

the bell on the door rang as you stepped in, blue sweater in hand, eyes darting across the room to find the blonde boy who immediately abandoned his conversation.

“i came to return this,” you slid it across the counter, just as felix had done the previous day, “and get a cookie as well.”

“just the cookie?”

“and a mocha.”

“your total will be—“

“just give it to her for free,” chan whispered from behind, trying to help the frantic boy.

“it’ll be free today,” felix stumbled on his words, “and maybe i could heat the cookies for you too? they’re better warm.”

“that would be great,” you took a seat at the same spot as before, “your customer service is top tier. free service and a cardigan on a rainy day?”

“we try.” felix couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, or take his eyes off of you.

even when you weren’t paying attention to him, typing on your laptop and munching on a cookie, he would stare at you, just barely hiding behind the espresso machine.

“why don’t you ask for her number?”

felix jumped as yet another barista appeared from behind him— something that had been happening too much recently. or perhaps he was just less focused on his surroundings.

“i can’t do that. what if she rejects me?”

“she would’ve let you down by now, do you know how obvious you’re making it?” hyunjin tried to reason with him.

“i guess that’s true, but i’m nervous. she’s really pretty.”

“so? you’re pretty too.”

felix gave the compliment a light laugh, “but she’s intimidatingly pretty.”

he kept an eye on the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your finger tapping to the rhythm of the café’s record player on the table.

“you’re such a hopeless romantic. just get her number. she’s gonna leave again and you’re gonna be upset that you didn’t.”

“maybe.”

with those words in mind, felix shyly approached you, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

“hey,” he started, almost chickening out just from your eye contact.

his fingers went to his throat, checking his pulse, “do you think i could get your number?”

when you stared at him in silent shock for a moment, he continued, “not as, like, a weird thing! i just want to be your friend.”

he could see hyunjin out of the corner of his eye, ready to pull out his hair in frustration.

your smile faltered, but you still took the phone from his hand, saving your name as y/n.

“text me later.” there was a hint of sadness in your voice that felix didn’t fail to pick up on, but he didn’t dare to comment on it.

he ran off into the back room, ready to scream over the most embarrassing, disappointing moment in his entire life.

hyunjin followed close behind, “felix! what the hell?”

“i got nervous!”

“so you decided to friend-zone her?”

“she could’ve friend zoned me first!”

“she obviously wasn’t going to!”

“but if she did then i think i’d die!”

hyunjin was close to slamming his head against the nearest wall. “i’m gonna die right now if you don’t walk back out there and tell her that you’ve spent the whole day thinking about how pretty she is!”

“she’ll think i’m weird!”

“then i’ll do it!” felix tried to hold him back but failed as hyunjin opened the door, only to be met with an empty spot where you used to be.

felix let go, his shoulders dropping.

“where is she?”

“i guess she left,” hyunjin turned to see his devastated friend.

“did i fuck up that badly?”

hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to make it worse for him than it already was. but the truth was that, yeah, he did.

“maybe she’ll be back.”

felix texted you that night while he sat in bed, deciding on, “hi it’s felix! :)”

he kept his cardigan next to him.

perhaps it was a little creepy, but he decided to sniff it. it smelled different than usual. perhaps that’s what you smelled like.

perhaps he would never even get to know what you smelled like.

tears brimmed his eyes as he shut off his phone, staring up at the fan on his ceiling, letting the noise drown out the eerie silence.

felix wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. he had no problem talking to people, he was the most extroverted extrovert that an extrovert could get. but he couldn’t help but question everything he did in front of you, even if he had just met you.

you didn’t respond.

when felix showed up to work the next day, it was like the sunshine was hidden behind a rainy cloud.

he knew that it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. he knew that checking to see if he got a text every minute wasn’t normal, or whip his head toward the door every time a customer came in.

so felix spent another night in his bed, phone in hand, staring at the text that he sent.

would it just be easier to forget about you? it’s not like he had anything going with you anyway.

it was only when he set it down for the night and closed his eyes that it began to ring, and he sprang right back up, eyes widening as he stared at the caller ID.

it was minho.

“hello?” felix answered, voice filled with sleep.

“you were upset at work today,” he stated, “is it because of that girl?”

“you could see it?”

“everyone could. like we always do.”

“i’m just gonna try to forget about it.”

“don’t.”

“what do you mean?”

“you have her number, right? come clean, text her that you were nervous. ask to meet up.”

“like a date?”

“exactly. ask her on a date.”

felix chewed on his lip, anxiety clouding his judgment once again. would he have the courage to even do that?

“chan said that you’re not allowed to work until you sort out your sadness. and nobody wants to cover your shifts, man.”

when minho hung up the phone, felix laid back against his pillows, letting out a breath of air that he didn’t know he was holding. then he checked his pulse.

opening your texts, he began typing. ‘i lied. it was something weird. you’re really pretty. you can block me if you want.’

he deleted the message.

‘actually,’

no.

‘i meant to ask for your number in a not-friend-way,’

no.

‘sorry for the other day. i was anxious and said the wrong thing, but i really wanted your number because i think you’re gorgeous. do you want to go out sometime?’

he sent the message and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the room. instead, he threw it back down onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it as hard as he could.

minutes later, felix heard his phone buzz. he scrambled to pick it up.

‘that’s ok. i was a little disappointed, you’re rly cute :)’

it buzzed again.

‘wanna come over tomorrow and watch a movie or something?’

his fingers shook, trying to type back, ‘sounds great! does 5 work?’

you reacted to his text with a thumbs up, and then he was back to squeezing the pillow.

felix didn’t work the next day. instead, he spent the day showering, squealing, spam-texting friends, and preparing for his first-ever date.

when you opened the doorbell, you were met with quite possibly the cutest sight in the entire world.

there felix was, holding a box of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in his shaky hands. “i baked these for you, kind of as an apology, kind of because i wanted to impress you. and i know you like the cookies.”

you giggled at his honesty, letting him inside as you took the box, “thank you felix, you’re such a sweetheart.”

he checked his pulse.

“sorry for the mess. i tried to clean a little, but i don’t have people over often.”

“it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you, “my house doesn’t look all that clean either. kind of comes with being a human.”

you laughed, taking a seat on the couch. he followed your actions.

“so, about the whole number thing,” he toyed with the rip on his black jeans.

“i thought you were really really beautiful.”

suddenly, he was way too aware of how close you were to him. but he wouldn’t let himself get nervous again.

“one of my coworkers was telling me to ask for your number and i was nervous and thought that you wouldn’t like me like that.”

felix sighed, “so i ended up saying the wrong thing and giving you the wrong idea.”

when he looked back up, you were smiling, holding in laughter. “that’s honestly adorable.”

“really?”

“i got sad, i thought you were just that kind to everyone and that i was developing some crazy ego thinking that a boy as attractive as you would like me.”

“you think i’m attractive?” his ears were on fire by now, completely stiff as you leaned in to look him in the eyes.

“i don’t understand how you don’t know how attractive you are.”

“what do you mean?”

“do i have to spell it out for you?”

“probably.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

“i also think the same about you. you looked so cute eating all happily, and when you smile, it makes me want to kiss you.” he chewed his lip, trying to not regret his bold words.

something tense was in the air, something that made felix’s heart pound a thousand times faster.

“then do it.”

felix froze. was he supposed to tell you that he had never kissed a girl before, much less sat this close to one?

“well, are you going to? or are you getting shy again?”

“i’ve never kissed anyone.” he let his heart thud out of his chest at the confession.

your eyes visibly widened, “you? you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“or held hands with a girl. and i’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“that’s impossible.”

“i don’t know how to prove it.”

“your awkwardness does the job.”

you decided to make a move, “but i can show you how if you’d like.”

felix’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to do or say.

“it’ll come naturally. just let it happen,” you smiled reassuringly as he nodded.

climbing onto his open lap, your hands carded through his blonde hair.

you leaned in to meet his lips briefly, his eyes burning into your own.

it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like him. but his eyes were full of desire for more.

“can i have another?” his hands met your back, pulling you into him.

this time, the kiss lasted longer, so much longer that he began craving more of you, so he did what he saw in all the movies.

he slipped his tongue into your mouth, grinning against your lips in pride at his actions.

felix’s hands traveled to your waist as took your word, letting go of his anxieties and doing what came naturally.

and without even realizing it, he began to take the lead.

all of the feelings were overwhelming. the way that you tugged on his hair, how close your bodies were, the way your tongue felt against his own.

he never wanted to stop.

until his phone began ringing.

you pulled away and he let out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at your features up close.

“felix, your phone,” you reminded him.

he jolted out of the daze, reaching for it.

chan.

he was about to just cancel the call when he saw the spam texts, asking where he was.

with a heavy sigh, he answered with you still on his lap.

“did you make up with y/n?”

“be quiet! i’m with her right now!”

you let out a laugh.

“oh! tell her hi!”

felix hung up on his friend with a groan, turning the ringer off.

“can we go back to kissing again?”

“after he’s done blowing you up,” you pointed at the buzzing phone.

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gucciwins · 8 months

Note

hi angie :) i was wondering whether you could write a little blurb based off an idea i’ve had recently? so harry and (yn) are a new couple and every time they go out (yn) is super conscious of how she acts and what she’s wearing/doing because they’re in public and harry just wants to calm her down :(( i feel like new boyfriendrry would be so gentle and kind :(

hope you enjoy this 2k blurb, sweets 🤍

Y/N really liked Harry.

He was funny, charming, and intelligent. Harry loved discussing the books she was reading and, to her surprise, would go on to purchase them so he could also share his thoughts with her. They were introduced by a mutual friend, stating they would get on well because of their love for poetry. Y/N wasn’t one for meeting new people–let alone being set up but Dezzie promised she wouldn’t regret it. Harry was told he’d be meeting his perfect match, and Dezzie was not wrong. Y/N had been someone straight out of a storybook with her perfect hair and a laugh that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. Harry was absolutely smitten.

They started with one date that turned into three, and soon enough, Y/N and Harry were talking every day, trying their best to work their schedule to fit each other in. One time a week was not enough for either of them. With more dates, there was more time together, and before they knew it had been a month of dating.

It’s not been three months since they met, and they’ve never been happier. Harry feels secure and loved in his relationship. He knows Y/N protects him as he does her. Y/N came in with her heart guarded high, but Harry crumbled her walls too quickly, and she knew she had no chance against him, so she let herself go into this relationship with an open mind and heart. Y/N knew that while Harry shielded their relationship, it wasn’t impossible to stop random fans from taking photos even when Harry asked them not to or to be trailed by paparazzi on a date night. Harry did his best to protect her, and Y/N knew he was doing everything he could. Being a new couple and someone no one knew about, it’s as if everyone was trying to find the skeletons in her closet. They were all waiting for her downfall.

Harry had promised her it would die down, but it seemed overnight there were articles of her everywhere, from the shops to every social media outlet. Y/N didn’t actively look for them. She knew it wasn’t good for her, and family members would send them her way. Old high school friends who still had her number began asking to hang out with her. Her parents sent her the articles because a nosy neighbor would text them. It’s as if no one was watching out for her.

She felt it was her against thousands and felt herself beginning to lose.

Y/N had a bad day, and all she wanted to do was wallow in bed, though she had already planned a date night with Harry. She would hate to cancel on him, so Y/N dragged herself to shower and got ready. While Y/N loved dressing up, the article she got sent today was about how outdated her style was and that it all looked well-loved–which meant worn out. Y/N made a decent income enough to keep a roof over her head and indulge in gifts occasionally, but she was conscious about the clothes she bought. Y/N didn’t support fast fashion; instead, she loved trading clothes with her friends or spending a day at the thrift shops with her grandmother, who always loved a good bargain. Today, all her clothing did not feel good enough, and she decided that her well-loved oversized leather jacket and black flares would do. A simple black top underneath when she got too hot in the restaurant. Y/N was lost in her head that she didn’t hear her doorbell. She broke out of her trance when her phone rang. It was him asking if everything was alright.

It would be now.

Time with Harry always healed Y/N because she knew he was worth it. It was still early days nearing the three months of dating, but Y/N knew she saw a long future with Harry. She opened the door and found him with a bouquet of bluebells. Her absolute favorite, she thanked him with a kiss and told him she’d only be a second.

The drive to their favorite restaurant was quick, the chatter about their day making time go even quicker. Y/N always loved hearing what Harry was up to because their lives were very different. Y/N worked in the publishing industry, where she edited manuscripts daily in an environment she enjoyed while Harry was world-known. He was working on his next album, and with no future tour insight, he was available to spend more time with her. Y/N’s family, specifically her older sister, would ask why Harry doesn’t post her online because, quoting Heather, “if he doesn’t post you, he clearly must not like you.” Y/N would defend Harry to her dying breath. Most of her family didn’t realize how much Harry deserved privacy. Yes, he’s a public figure, but doesn’t owe anyone anything. Harry had told her he would if she wanted him to; honestly, Y/N was fine living in their own world with Harry’s closest friends knowing.

Everything was usually good, with Y/N being in public. She’d order her favorite food, sometimes a burger or pasta. It always filled her up, and she’d take the leftovers for lunch the next day. Y/N never thought anything of it, not even when she was with Harry, but fans of Harry began to take photos of them in restaurants. They criticized her meal choices, how she held her fork and even her posture. It’s as if everything she did was something to laugh at her for. Y/N wasn’t the most confident person growing up, but she learned about self-care and respecting herself over time. Y/N grew to explore her fashion sense, began to speak her mind, and saw life with a brighter outlook. It wasn’t until she had what felt like a million eyes on her that she began questioning her every move. Suddenly, everyone had become someone to be wary of, and she hated thinking like that.

Their waiter greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table. Y/N frowned because their usual waitress, Karla, was out tonight. Harry squeezed her hand in assurance, and Y/N knew it would be fine.

“Uhh–I’ll do an iced water,” she smiled timidly at the waiter, not wanting to order alcohol or soda.

Harry looked at her confused but didn’t question it. When they returned to take their order, Y/N ordered a Caesar salad, stating she had a late lunch at work. Harry ordered her favorite pesto pasta and a plate of tilapia for him. Harry began worrying because he noticed she kept looking around and was fidgety with her hands. She kept slipping the ring she wore on her pinky that Y/N got gifted for her fifteenth birthday on and off. It’s a sign she’s nervous. He hadn’t seen her do that with him since their first date; she excused herself to the restroom before he could ask her.

He sits back in his chair confused, until he sees a quick flash in the corner of his eye.

A camera.

It would be minutes before that made its way online. Harry waved down his waiter, asking him to make their food to-go as quickly as possible. Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, needing to check on Y/N.

“Y/N,” he knocks on the door. He hears the sink, but no reply. Harry tries the next one. “Y/N, sweetheart. It’s me.” The lock of the door turns, and she lets him in. He finds her eyes red, but her mascara looks intact, almost as if she had reapplied it. Harry feels defeated. He knows this hurt is his fault, even if partially. “Oh, my love. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, brushing off his words, “what are you on about?”

Harry places his hands on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, trying to comfort them both. “Baby,” he sighs. “Don’t have to pretend with me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you can’t do that if you’re not honest.”

Those words are enough to break her open. Y/N sets forward and falls into his arms. She forgets everything outside, all those people looking at her and judging her because she knew she’d be safe here with Harry. “It’s been a hard day,” she whispers.

“That’s okay,” he assures her. “We’ll go home. Make you a cuppa and eat dinner in bed.”

“But the crumbs,” she mumbles, remembering his dumb rule.

“Fuck it. It was a stupid rule.”

Y/N giggles, and it lightens the tightness in his chest. She’s calming down and feeling better. “I only got a salad,” she pouts.

“Got the pesto for you, silly girl.”

Her eyes lighten up, “you’re perfect, Harry Styles.”

“Only for you.”

Harry gently kisses her lips, knowing she’s still sensitive. Y/N surprises him by replying eagerly, but he slows her down with a slight nip of her bottom lip, and she moans. A simple kiss wasn’t supposed to get this heated. He pulls away and sees her pout on full display instead of giving in like he usually would; he pecks her lips and guides her out of the restroom after slipping her bag on his shoulder.

“My bag looks good on you,” Y/N teases quietly.

Harry smiles at her, “yeah, think I should model for Baggu?”

“Only if they let me take the pictures.”

“No work would get done with your pretty face.”

“What’s that mean?” She looks at him with a sly smile, already knowing his response.

“That you are a pretty distraction.”

Before she can respond, Y/N realizes they’ve made it to the hostess stand, where their food awaits them all packed up. Harry slips out two hundred dollar bills and passes them forward. “Have a good night.” Harry walks them to the car, and she’s thankful no one is outside. He opens the door for her and lets her slip in. Harry sets her bag on her lap and reaches around her to buckle in her seatbelt. Y/N softens at his actions because he’s always been gentle and careful with her from the moment she met him. It’s never changed.

“Harry,” she calls for his name softly.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” she tells him honestly.

“Nothing to thank.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. Then, he puts away their food and drives them to his house. Y/N turns in her seat to look at him. He sends her a wink at a red light but keeps his eyes on the road. Y/N rests her hand on top of his, resting on the clutch. Harry feels the butterflies return, and Y/N’s touch makes him feel grounded.

Harry knows what he feels for Y/N is not something he’s ever felt before, which makes him want to protect her even more. His feelings are growing, and it’s why he knows what Y/N is growing through is something they have to deal with together, or he might end up losing her. At the end of the day, he will do whatever is best for her. Even if it means Harry not being in her life anymore.

He ushers her inside from the clothes, telling her to get comfortable while he gets dinner sorted out, but she tugs on his hand to stop him.

“Y-y-ou don’t want to talk?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You sure?”

Y/N knows she needs to stop keeping everything tucked inside. She wants to share how she’s feeling because if anyone would understand, it would be Harry. They walk over to the couch and sit next to each other. If Y/N moved another inch, she’d be in his lap. Y/N can see Harry is itching to pull her into him but is holding back. She appreciates it and does the next best thing: hold his hand tight.

“Being in the eye of the public is something I’m sure no one can prepare for, but right now, it’s all gotten too much. I don’t go online anymore because there always seem to be new photos of me. My phone constantly blows up with texts from people I stopped talking to after secondary school. My family sends me photos of every headline, asking me if they’re true,” Y/N blurts it all out. Harry listens intently as she shares how she only feels comfortable around him and her three friends from university. That support keeps her going, but he knows it will only break her down if she continues to listen to everything around her.

Harry pulls her into his arms, letting himself comfort her, but he knows it’s also for himself. He repeatedly kisses her temple as he whispers he’s got her. “Sometimes even the people we love hurt it. It’s okay to take a step back from them.”

“But they’re my family,” she defends. “I can’t.”

Harry knows it’s hard, but he needs her to understand she’s hurting more because of it. “Listen, sweetheart. We can talk to them together and set boundaries, but what they’re doing is hurting you. I-I can’t take that.”

“What do I change?”

“Nothing, you live normally. You can keep everything online private if you want. You’re allowed to live your life. Not a single person has a say in it. Not even me,” he emphasizes. “Your phone number would be good, though.”

“Was thinking of that,” she confesses. “Do you think the media will die down?”

Harry grins, “Of course. We're such homebodies. They’ll forget we even exist.” He kisses her nose. “Together. We’ll do this together if you want?”

Y/N wants Harry in her life. She never once thought of letting him go. “Together.”

“Good, now give me a kiss.” He pats her ass. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to pick.”

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry angst #harry fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles story #harry story

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klmp11s · 1 month

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diasomnia boys with a male dormmate how can't sleep, Diasomnia members notice how he is usually seen taking long evening walks, cooking something in the kitchen or reading a book in the lounge at times when everyone is normally asleep, and when they question him he responds that his dreams were stolen by a fae when he he was small which took away his ability to have dreams and sleep, he usually takes a potion to rest his body and after that he goes out to enjoy the night before classes

God, this has been processing in my head for a couple of days because I really liked this request (English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Summary: twst boys with a reader who can't sleep, and how they find out the reason Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Sebek Zigvolt, Silver Warning: male!reader, lack of sleep(?), reader is a member of the Diasomnia dormitory

Malleus Draconia

He definitely saw you more often than others and could even at some point think that you were similar to him

He might also have gone out with you a couple of times after you became friends with him.

But don't people need to sleep? He remembers that you were always the last person to go to bed.

You could also walk him to his room in the evening, but after that you also went to bed, right?

Actually, I think he could see you making a few potion flasks, but he definitely thought it was a study assignment or something.

One day when you were walking around your dorm, you also met Malleus. This is not bad and now you walked for a while and listened to stories about gargoyles.

When the topic came up about you and why you weren’t going to bed now, you started telling him a story from your childhood. Okay, he's surprised and he wants to know who this fairy was. Now he understands why you needed the potions, okay.

He MIGHT consider asking you to try his unique magic on you, but if you refuse, he would calmly accept that answer.

“I’ve already had enough of fairies interfering in my dreams” - he takes your joke SERIOUSLY and he’s trying to say that he offered his help out of no malice (( He doesn’t want you to think badly of him, at the same moment you explain that it was nothing more than a joke, to which he looks into your eyes for a couple of seconds and slowly breaks into a smile.

Now he is ready to spend almost all night time with you, if you have not drunk the potion, I think he could even tell you about his childhood. Still, you did it first, right?

Lilia Vanrouge

You remind him of Malleus

He even suggested that you take Malleus with you on night walks 😭

I think he could sit with you sometimes and talk about everyday things.

And he definitely saw potions in your room, what are they for? When you say that you absolutely cannot see dreams and sleep, because your dreams were stolen a long time ago, he did not expect this, okay

I think he could ask you if you remember anything from that moment, but then he falls silent and listens further. Okay, the potions give your body a little rest, that's good

Now he could definitely sit with you at night more often and even tell the Diasomnia group about you

He might even wonder if he'd ever known a fae who could do such a thing.

He could joke that you are the complete opposite of his son and it doesn’t matter whether you are alone with him or not

Sebek Zigvolt

Human, you think you can parody the great Malleus, huh?

He would definitely say that you are throwing off your sleep schedule and harming your health. You can't be strong if your health is a complete mess, you know?

He would sit with you until a certain moment when he needs to go to bed. You should too, okay? He would also meet you in the living room early in the morning a couple of times, and the first thing he would do would be to ask if you had slept at all.

He could also ask you one evening why you are ruining your health like this and when you started telling him, he literally: 🧍😦

He thought that you were just acting strange, and did not expect such a story at all. Good, he didn't jump to conclusions anymore.

When you also told him about the potions and why you need them, he suggested asking Lilia and Malleus if they might know something similar

When you said that you had gotten used to it over time, he could understand, but he was still surprised. Not sleeping at all is truly a nightmare

Now he behaves much calmer if he sees you early in the morning/very late at night and he could listen to your stories from childhood or tell a couple of his own before going to bed

Silver

I think he's heard about how long you stay up, but he's only seen it a couple of times.

He could definitely almost immediately ask you how you manage to stay awake for so long. Afterwards, when you started telling you the reason why you weren’t sleeping, he apologized because he didn’t know that this was such a personal(?) topic.

Now he understands why you spend so much time just doing everyday things, he could also ask you about the potions you drink. What effect do they have and stuff like that?

He could even joke that he needed a potion with completely the opposite effect

He may have also mentioned this in a conversation with his group from Diasomnia

He sleeps 22/7 and you don't sleep 22/7, soulmates?

He could sit with you at night if he woke up at that moment, but most likely he would just fall asleep next to you. He'll sleep for you two

If you tell some story from childhood, he really tried to stay awake to listen to you, but most likely he just fell asleep on you

The characters do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners, please do not edit, translate, repost my works on other platforms, also without my permission and @

#twst x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #malleus draconia x male reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x male reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x male reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x male reader #silver x reader

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undercoverpena · 2 months

Text

7. honey cream

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.9k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a good dad. bad tool names. anxious!reader. an: can i just say a massive thank you to all those who show up EVERY SINGLE WEEK. i adore you so much. thank you. if you're new to the ride, also welcome. even if i loved this story so much, i never expected people to love it even half as much as me, never mind the love i keep getting. so thank you.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Nice forearm in your story.

Thanks, It’s this guy I met in a hardware store? We’ve been kind of seeing one another.

Oh, tell him he has a nice watch.

I’ve been told to tell you that you have a nice watch.

You’re hilarious.

I try to be.

You can say no to this, but do you want me to call you later?

That’ll be nice. I’ll be working late so I'll take a break when you do.

Tomorrow, I just need to grab some bits from the store and then I’ll be with you.

Are you sure you want to spend your day off helping me paint?

I was promised to see you in overalls, so yes.

They’re nice, but please lower your expectations.

I bet they look great on your ass.

Everything looks great on my ass.

Including my hand.

Yes, specifically when you slipped your fingers in my jeans pocket on the way to brunch.

I can’t wait to see you.

Drive safely, Butterscotch.

“I feel bad that your day off is spent painting.”

Flicking the lid off with a screwdriver, Frankie just smiles—eyes looking up at you from under his cap.

When he looks at you, you might as well be a fly irresistibly drawn to the brilliance of it, captivated by it.

He’d come in clothes that were long since paint-splattered. A set, you assume, he wears most times—an over-washed and over-loved flannel over a greying white tee, and a pair of cargos that have more pockets than you know what they could be used for.

It had been more natural when he’d arrived this time. A sweet kiss at the door, a long hug where he walks you in and his heel kicks your door shut. A muttering of 'you smell nice', into your neck—grinning over his shoulder because you’d sprayed far too much of your perfume.

“Don’t—I want to be here.”

“I think I’ll likely apologise another three times, at least, before we’re done.”

Standing, wearing a slightly twinged expression on his face, he steps over the clean trays and folded step ladders. His hand rises, turning the beak of his cap around, before he’s in front of you, staring at you before he kisses you.

Kisses you like he wishes to rid you of your worries and make your guilt wash away. Like he wants to empty your mind of things you’ve once been told, make you forget them, purge them. Fuck, his mouth almost does.

“So, rule of thumb—ceiling, walls and then kickboards, window sills.”

“Did you… Did you really just finish kissing me and immediately talk about painting?”

Grinning, he chuckles, bending down to grab a paintbrush. “Did you want me to linger on why you feel bad, or are you ready to get your hands dirty?"

You hesitate for a moment before taking the brush, fingers brushing over his. “I guess I’ll get dirty, since it’s with you.”

He seems to swallow, gaze holding yours as a soft smile tries to tug at his lips before flattening out to a line. Then, you just watch as he pours the off-white paint into the trays—its thick, glooping contents filling it quicker than you’d banked on, but he took it perfectly in his stride.

The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, forearms flexing as he tilts the larger tub until he appears content with the measurement in the tray.

You know a thumb covered in paint shouldn’t cause your throat to dry, but it does. Your mind thinking up all the places he can leave a stamp of it, a trail of it, turn you into a map showing where he’s been—over a thigh, collarbone, your —

“Race you to the end of the wall?”

Blinking, finding him already readying his roller on the blank, sun-stained wall.

Before you can respond, he's off. The roller glides smoothly across the wall, leaving a trail of fresh paint in its wake. You laugh, shaking your head at his competitive spirit before joining him, your own brush meeting the wall—cutting in.

In time, the room fills with the rhythmic sound of brushes against the wall, the occasional laughter, and gentle conversations. The room transformed over the hours, looking fresher, already a thousand times better than it had this morning with the patches off filled in holes and cracks.

Taking the brush from your hands, you step back to the middle, looking around, not initially aware of how he’s looking at you. Not until you spot a satisfied smile and a glint in his eye.

“We did good, didn't we?”

You shrug. “Think you could do better—put your back really into rolling next time.”

Shaking his head, he throws your brush into the used tray before he’s grasping, tugging, your body connecting with his in an oomph—his reflexes quicker, arms longer than you’d expected—as laughter escapes out as you slide your hand around the back of his neck.

“Thank you. For helping me.”

“Sure,” he whispers, cheek close to yours, fingers on your hip. “Have I told you how good you look in your overalls?”

Rolling your lips, you slowly turn in his hold—all set to turn his cap for him again. To whisper to him that they’re easy to remove too, that he could slide his fingers up, even slant your mouth back over his again.

But you hear his stomach. It rumbles—practically thunderous.

“I haven’t even offered you food,” you confess, words laced with guilt. “I should make you food.”

“You don’t have to…”

Fingers entwining with his, you pull him—finding him happily following, even as he mumbles about cleaning up, that the paint will dry in the tray. You don’t loosen your hold until the two of you are in the kitchen, a hand needed to open the fridge, both required to pull out some ingredients.

“You cooking for me?”

“I’m going to try, if that’s okay?”

He leans against the counter, watching you with a soft smile.

“I'd love that, baby,” he says, the affection in his voice making your heart flutter like it keeps doing.

Before you’ve even sliced the first vegetable, Frankie excuses himself—a kiss to your cheek, all domestic, normal. It not feeling weird even as he goes back to the “project room” and you hear him tidying.

Because it’s not odd in the slightest him being here.

A thing you turn over as you continue to prepare ingredients, cutting and marinating. By the time he’s returned, sporting an amused smile on his face, you’re about to begin frying things.

“Can I do anything?”

Shaking your head, you glance at him over your shoulder, finding he’s taken up his earlier spot. “Just keep me company.”

And he does. Asking you things, questions—some about your childhood, your family, friends. Every word spoken, he hangs onto. Staring like he’s making notes in his head, committing them to memory, somewhere inside that beautiful, amazing mind of his.

“Should I get used to you cooking if I come round and help you with your project?” he teases, taking a water from the fridge like you’d instructed.

“You better not get used to it,” you retort, throwing a small piece of bell pepper at him playfully. He ducks, laughing. “I batch cook most of the time—easier when you eat for one.”

His eyes follow as you move around the kitchen with a fondness in his eyes, you focusing on not burning anything. Stomach knotting itself when it comes to dishing it up, placing it down, and watching him slide into the stool.

When he takes the first bite, you swear you are frozen—unable to move, or think. Eyes just focused on his, watching, waiting, until you breathe a sigh of relief at the way his eyes light up. “This is really good, baby.”

You can't help but feel a little proud. “Thank you.”

He raises his water in a toast. “To more cooking then,” he proposes, and you laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly.

As you stick your own fork in, it's easy to find comfort in the shared silence, a contentment you continue to be amazed at. The atmosphere all at ease. There's no need for words as you both eat, side-by-side, a relatively normal thing for most, but not for you.

But, none of it feels weird, awkward. It never has—even if part of you continues to wait for it. If anything, it continues to be comfortable, right.

Even as the food effortlessly vanishes off both of your plates, it's not until you've reached your fill that you clear your throat.

“So, how often do you have Luca?”

Chewing his food, he puts down the remainder—wiping his fingers on the napkin. “It’s a weird rota. But it works? I’ll have him in the week for two nights and then overnight on a Saturday one week and then one night in the week the following and then Friday to Sunday, and then I’ll have him for three nights in the week the following. Sometimes, extra if I have time off or I want to take him to see family.”

Nodding, you take a sip of your drink.

“Does that… bother you?”

“No! No, of course not,” you grin. “He’s the most important, in all of this. It was just curiosity, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work out the pattern.”

Chewing his cheek he smiles. “You trying to work out when I’m free?”

Shrugging, you look away, aware of the heat warming your cheeks. “Well, someone did post about brunch on their Stories…”

“I remember someone else posting my forearm on theirs.”

Smiling, you plate your cutlery down. “It’s a very nice forearm.”

Shoulder nudging you, Frankie chuckles—cutlery lined up on his plate, your hand moving to take it. Sliding around the kitchen as he begins debating what part of him will appear next, a thigh, an ankle.

“I can include all of you next time, if you like?” Hand testing the hot, soapy water filling the bowl.

“Yeah?”

Licking your lips, you smile. “I don’t cook for anyone, Morales.”

Shifting to meet your gaze, his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Is that right, Rainy? I must be pretty special then.”

“You have no idea,” you reply, your voice a mere whisper but the words carry an immense weight, one you suspect has snuck out, and embedded itself into him.

You're quick to turn your back to him, hide the heat and shyness, as you carefully rinse off the dishes. Only hearing the stool shift at the last moment, the sound of his sock-covered feet padding around until he's standing behind you.

His presence is unmistakable, more so when he places his hands on your hips. “I think I'm beginning to,” he murmurs into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

You turn to face him, the plates forgotten in the sink. Looking up into his eyes, seeing a reflection of things fluttering in them.

“You better,” you say, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek, “because I'm not planning on posting anyone else’s arm for a while.”

His grin widens at your words, his hands pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "Good, because I don't plan on trying brunch with anyone else."

And as he leans down to kiss you, he pauses, mouth hovering over yours. “Speaking of…”

Narrowing your eyes, you retract your head, soap suds sliding off your wrists.

“My friends… they want to meet you.”

His words catch you off guard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Meet...me?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

As soon as he confirms with a simple nod, you feel a tightness in your chest. An explosion in your mind. A vortex of thoughts, all overwhelming, non-stop.

Each second you try to breathe, the knot in your chest tightens, sitting, carving a bigger hole where your happiness had just been—

“Yes,” he confirms, his hands soothingly rubbing circles on your hips as though noticing your sudden tension. “I think, maybe, I’ve talked about you too much?”

Running your teeth over your lip, you feel a piece of skin. One sticking up, not as smooth as the rest. Lip balm would solve it, fix it—but you pick at it anyway, pick, pick, pick—

Running your teeth over your lip, you notice a stray piece of skin, protruding slightly, disrupting the otherwise smooth surface. Lip balm would fix it, effortlessly smooth it out—but despite knowing this, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to pick at it. Listening to him as he explains, hearing names, a day suggested. As you compulsively pick, pick, pick—

Until he says your name.

Soft. Gentle. So cautiously spoken it makes your heart do a double take as you taste copper on your tongue.

“Are you sure? I mean, I want to. I just… don’t want to intrude or anything,” you reply, and you know it’s left your mouth shaky, bathed in nerves.

Attempting to shake the suds from your hands, hoping to fling off the worries with it, you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. Mind a flurry, a snowstorm of ifs, buts and maybes.

Because meeting his friends is a significant step—a thing you’re happy about, pleased he feels the same way. Yet, you're also terrified.

Digging your hip into the counter because of it, rooting yourself as you flex your fingers.

“Hey.” His fingers gently lift your chin, forcing you to look up at him; eyes full of warmth and reassurance. "You wouldn't be intruding, baby. They're… they’re like my family and… I want them to meet the person I can’t stop thinking about.”

Shoulders sliding down from your ears, you move to rest your hands on his waist. “You really talk about me that much?”

Scrunching his nose, he smiles. “A bit.”

“Okay,” you agree, your voice sounding more confident than you feel. “I'll meet your friends.”

“Great,” he grins, his relief evident. He pulls you close, hugging you tightly. “Benny—the one who fights—that's who we'll be supporting.”

“When?”

He frowns, but vanishes it away as though realising you hadn't been listening. “Not this weekend, but next. They’re going to love you, I promise.”

“I hope so,” you whisper into his chest, your heart rate trying its best to slow down.

I need you to tell me what I need to do with the office room, if your friends happen to not like me. They’re going to like you. But if they don’t. Rainy, they will. Introducing you is more so they don’t think I’ve made you up. You have a habit of making up people? No. But apparently, the way I talk about you makes it seem like you’re made up. Why? Because you’re perfect. I am not. You are, but let’s have that battle another day. What are you worried about?

It sits there, in your fingers. The answer to his question.

Foot kicking out at your kitchen island, laptop light illuminating your face as you roll your tongue over your lips.

Foot kicking out nervously at the kitchen island, the harsh glow of the laptop casting an eerie light across your face, you roll your tongue over your lips.

A nervous tic. One you find yourself repeating—letting it trace over the same path again and again, desperately seeking a sense of calm that seems perpetually out of reach.

The question doing its rounds, spinning and swirling: What are you worried about? What are you worried about?

Like a bell has been wrung, it blares out. The answer.

It vibrates through your bones and comes back to you in an echo. Almost a chorus: That I’m not good enough.

A thing you’ve done well to ignore, to stuff down. But now, it's crawling up out of its boxes, the tape having barely kept it down, flapping about in the whirlwind of worries in your head.

As your phone screen dims, memories flood, recalling the evidence. The words flung at you, feelings you’ve wrestled with in bathrooms at loud parties and brutal quiet nights; arguments in places that don’t feel like home and tears against brick walls that cut shoulders.

Unlocking your phone, you tighten your jaw because he's not like them. He's good, kind. A sudden unwillingness to bend to insecurity roaring inside of you as you list every good thing about him; not willing to let a good thing be ruined by things that could never happen.

Sliding your fingers over the screen, you type words that seem easier, less difficult to confess:

Living up to the stories you’ve said. No stories, just a mention of your name and apparently a smile they’ve not seen in a while.

With a mouth-closed grin, you purse your lips.

Reading over the message again and again as your teeth sneak out to bite your lip, thumbs darting out over the phone’s keyboard.

Would it be okay to pick you up? You want to pick me up? I do. Yeah, sure. I was going to offer to pick you up. I think I’d like to pick you up, and if I don’t make a fool out of myself, would you like to stay over? I’ll pack your robe.

As soon as he throws his bag into the backseat and slips into your car, you feel at ease.

The drive over to grab him had been a combination of whispered mutterings about how it was going to be fine and a mind full of all the ways it wouldn’t be.

It’s further helped when his lips press to your cheek, allowing hands to loosen on the steering wheel, and when that low voice sweeps over you as he greets you—as other words hang there unspoken.

You almost say it on sight, I've missed you.

Because you have. A week and a half of messages and phone calls sufficing, but you’ve missed his presence, his face, the chance to brush your fingers over his cheek.

“You look nice.”

Eyes widening, he stares down at himself, palms brushing out over his thighs. “Me?”

“No, the ghost you brought with you—of course, you.”

Snorting, he fastens his seatbelt. “Says you, hermosa.”

“Smooth talker.”

The drive to the fight continues with similar, gentle teasing, all comfortable conversation filling the vehicle. He begins to fill you in on the new developments in the saga of Luca’s newfound love for blanket forts rendering the living room a disaster and you about the sign-off on the work you'd been worked up over.

As you navigate the roads, excitedly sharing about how you've picked a wallpaper you like, Frankie's warm hand finds a home on your thigh, his thumb idly tracing patterns over the fabric of your jeans as he continues talking.

No smirk, nothing. Just the usual smile, as if he'd done this before.

Yet, he hasn't. Unfamiliar sensations surge through your body, catching you off guard, body all ill-prepared for the way it warms you. It almost urges you to shuffle in your seat so his hand rises north; Electricity crackles along your veins, accompanied by a tightening in your abdomen that refuses to dissipate. And, it only worsens when he coughs and his hand grips you a little tighter.

As more of the cityscape flits past your windows, you steal glances at Frankie. His profile illuminated intermittently by the passing street lights, shadows highlighting the rugged contours of his face.

By the time you're pulling into the parking lot, you wish the drive had been longer. Momentarily, you press your thighs together, for reprieve. Only doing so when his hand moves to open the door, the liveliness and music spilling out onto the sidewalk as he comes around the vehicle to take your hand.

“So, where will your friends be?”

Frankie tightens his hand on yours, leading you, holding the door open. “They’ll be in the locker room. Will is Ben’s non-official trainer.”

Nodding, you smile, letting him lead until the two of you come to a stop at the bar—him asking you what you’d like, giving you a look that says please don’t fight me as he takes out his wallet.

“You not needed there?” Shaking his head, ordering drinks as he faces his head forward but his eyes slide down to you. “And what are you, what's your role?”

“His other non-official, less present trainer.”

“You slacker.”

Shrugging, he shakes his head, paying for the drinks. “I know, so much free time to do it too.”

Grinning, you follow him to a spot out of the line, sliding your arm around his back, curling into him—the ice cubes in your plastic cup colliding in the fizziness of your drink.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Because you missed me?”

His mouth opens, parts—the tip of his tongue peeking out as you feel his chest expand before relaxing. “Yeah. Nine days was too long.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you slide your hand under his jacket, it taking a moment, more awkward than full of ease before you can fan your fingers out against him.

“Technically, it was five—if you count me half-waving to you when I came in to get a screwy.”

Almost spluttering as he takes a sip, he clears his throat, staring down. “You can’t call it a screwy?”

Narrowing your eyes, smirking away. “And why not, Morales?”

“Because suena mal... dirty,” he argues, trying to suppress a laugh.

Your eyebrow raises in question, but before you can retort, his lips are on yours, effectively silencing you. The place around you is all of a sudden silent, muted—as if no one else is around at all. The ring, the lights, and all of the people blurring into nothing, not as your fingers tease over his chin, as your mouth reminds itself what his feels like.

Pulling back, mouth hovering close to his. “So, what do I need to know about your friends? Outside of the obvious.”

The obvious is that they all served together. Frankie had explained it one night as you cooked for yourself, him on a shelf—face filling the screen as you sliced and brewed on the stove.

It was clinically given, top-level you'd been sure. Just the need to know—the need to understand.

“Well, Ben is loud—but he’s gentle. Will is a bit protective, especially since we've all been through a lot together," he begins, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “But they're good people. They're upfront and honest.”

“Does Harold like them?”

Tutting, he pauses as he lifts the plastic cup to his lips. “The only person Harry likes is you. And his own family.”

“I’ll be sure to drop that in conversation then. Show them I’m one stamp approved already.”

Tilting your chin up, he licks his lips—slowly, intently. “You have nothing to worry about, alright?” You nod, trying to take in his words. “I mean it.”

“Okay.”

Kissing the top of your head, Frankie keeps his arm around you. Even when Benny's name is shouted and the crowd goes wild.

I think they like me.

Are you texting me from the bathroom?

Maybe. But, I think it’s going well.

Baby, are you peeing and texting me?

No! I dried my hands and then messaged you.

So you’re leaning against a dirty wall texting me.

Are you grinning like an idiot at your phone?

Don’t answer I can see it.

Shut up.

If that’s the grin you wear when I message you, no wonder they wanted to meet me.

Basta!

You're cute when you're flustered. Can see the red climbing up your neck from here.

Come back and keep me company.

Grin a bit more and I might.

Rainy.

Fuck you're handsome, Butterscotch.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

an: while the meeting happens off-paper (haha wanted to say off-screen) all meetings won't appear like this 👀. we knew they'd love her, and in time we'll see how much. also, her texting him in the bathroom may be my fave thing she's done off her own accord (i am merely just a body and fingers when rainy begins talking to me)

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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kaiijo · 1 year

Text

CAUGHT IN 4K — ITOSHI RIN

pairing: itoshi rin x fem! reader content: based on prompt 5 on this list, one physical description of reader (dimpled cheek), rin’s a lovable jerk and bad at flirting notes: rin has my entire heart <3

There are many things in life that Rin dislikes. Rainy weather. Clingy people. Overly crowded places. His brother — though, admittedly, his relationship with Sae is much more complicated than any other thing on this long list of “Things Itoshi Rin Dislikes.”

There are a few things on the “Things Itoshi Rin Likes” list, including good running shoes, horror movies, and ochazuke with bream. And, at the top of the list, competing for first place, are soccer and you. If he really had to choose, Rin knows that you eke out soccer, which says something.

And Rin’s unwavering love for you is also the main reason for another item on his dislike list: when people ask how you met and got together.

“Come on!” Bachata grins, throwing an arm around your shoulder, beer bottle in his other hand. “Tell it again! It’s such a good story.”

Rin’s glare is withering. “You were there for it.”

“But I like reliving it through the retelling,” Bachira replies.

Isagi smirks. “I want to hear it again too.”

“Me three!” Reo chimes in, and Rin is regretting letting you talk him into inviting his teammates for a get-together with each passing second.

Rin scowled. “All of you were there.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, leaning against Rin on the couch. He instinctively wraps his arm around you tighter, frowning in a way you always tell him is actually pouting. “I’ll do it.”

Bachira and Isagi always made fun of the fact that the only sort of media interaction Rin was ever willing to do were press conferences about the upcoming seasons. “There’s nothing but soccer in that head, huh?” laughed Bachira, and Isagi joined him with a couple of their other teammates snickering. Rin always sneered back, “As if any of you lukewarm fuckers have room to talk.”

But they weren’t wrong; Rin was notorious for brushing off any questions that were not soccer related, fixing an incredibly cold glare at whatever reporter dared to try. But he was typically focused when it came to these press conferences.

“Underlashes Junior,” Shidou said, kicking Rin under the table. Rin snarled at him and Shidou, unbothered, continued, “they asked you a question.”

Rin turned back to the mass of reporters. “Repeat it.”

“Do you think your approach to your gameplay will be any different this season?”

Rin doesn’t even remember what he said, turning his mic on and rattling off something about how his skills will just be even better than last season, eyes not even on the reporter but to another journalist a few people to the left of them. You were waiting patiently to ask whatever question your bosses drafted for you. At first, Rin’s eyes were drawn to your pretty face and the little dimple in your cheek that deepened when you smiled. And his eyes probably would have stayed staring at your face, if not for the necklace hanging around your neck along with your press pass.

Kunigami took the next question and Isagi leaned over the Rin, asking, “What’s up with you today? You’re pretty distracted.”

Rin glances back at the journalist — you — who he had been staring at and he answered, “That’s the ugliest necklace I’ve ever seen.”

Isagi’s jaw dropped as the rest of the reporters and their own teammates grew silent. All eyes turned to you, the only person wearing a necklace noticeable enough from where the soccer team was sat.

Rin’s eyes widened a little. Fuck, he hadn’t turned his fucking mic off. Shidou, Otoya, and Karasu roared with laughter at his expense as Isagi apologized on Rin’s behalf and, on Rin’s other side, Bachira chimed in, “I like your necklace! Very colorful!” with a little thumbs up.

Rin ventured an (admittedly embarrassed) peek at you as you gave Bachira a thumbs up back before your eyes settled on Rin, expression morphing into something he couldn’t read and he couldn’t understand why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said stuff before that had garnered disapproval from everyone for being ‘rude’ and ‘unnecessary,’ and he generally didn’t care. But there was something about this instance that had guilt creeping up in his gut.

“You need to go find her and apologize,” was what Reo said immediately when they finished the press conference.

“Can we go watch?” Shidou asked. “Maybe she’ll slap you.”

Rin glared at him and stalked off ahead of his teammates. He wasn’t about to tell them that he had already planned to do that.

You were finishing the last of your notes, standing just outside the venue that had been in when Rin found you. He stopped a few feet beside you, shifting his weight on his feet and running a hand through his hair. The movement caught your attention and you turned to look at him.

Rin couldn’t help but glance down at that necklace. Hideous. Absolutely, positively ugly — an explosion of mismatched beads and tasseled pieces with dried macaroni. Who in their right mind would wear that?

You and Rin stared at each other for a little, and Rin opened and closed his mouth no less than three times, mind in overdrive. He was supposed to say, “I’m sorry for making such a rude comment about your necklace.”

Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Why the hell would you wear that?”

Your eyebrows raised again in the same way they had when he first said it but to his surprise, you just looked amused. “You don’t think it suits my outfit?”

Rin looked you up and down quickly. Your pantsuit was a nice, neutral color that complimented your skin tone and was tailored well to your body. The rest of your jewelry was simple and classic. “No,” Rin said.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, that dimple returning, and Rin felt his ears heat up. You just hummed and replied, “Not that I need to justify myself to you but this fine piece was handcrafted by my favorite artist.”

“Who would that be?” Who the fuck would make jewelry that ugly?

“My nephew.”

And suddenly, it made sense and Rin felt himself flush, unsure if it was from shame or from your unfettered attention but he found himself mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

You crossed your arms across your chest and said, “I don’t know if I can forgive you for insulting his hard work.”

Rin frowned and racked his brain for what else to say. What did his teammates say to pretty women when they got in hot water? “Maybe I can take you out to dinner then?” he asked, cringing a little as the words left his mouth.

You snorted, “Hmm, no thanks.” And Rin’s heart sank. You instead said, “Maybe I’ll consider forgiving you if you stop by at my nephew’s birthday this Saturday.”

“Really?” he asked, tone flat.

“He’s a big fan. You’re his favorite player, which I can’t say I necessarily agree with.”

Rin scowled. “Who’s your favorite then?”

You shrugged. “Yoichi Isagi.”

Rin’s scowl only deepened. You stepped closer to him and Rin could smell your perfume and it made him a little weak in the knees. You added, “If you come, maybe we can grab dinner afterwards.”

“Okay,” left his mouth before he could think and you grinned, reaching into your handbag. You pulled out a business card and a pen, scribbling your cell phone number and an address on the back.

You pressed the card against his chest and Rin grabbed it as someone shouted your name from a car. You turned on your heel and called over your shoulder, “I’ll see you Saturday, Itoshi!”

“I still can’t believe you went on a date with him after all of that,” Kunigami says, and you giggle. Rin grunts in disapproval and you just lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

His eyes flicker to Isagi, who’s grinning wide. “I never heard that part where you said I’m your favorite player.”

“Yeah, Rin definitely omits that part,” chimes Reo.

“Shut up,” Rin growled.

“Don’t worry, babe,” you say. “You’re still number one in my heart.” Rin rolls his eyes as his teammates chuckle and you snuggle deeper into him. He watches with an embarrassingly fond gaze as you carry on talking with the others, your eyes lighting up, that dimple appearing in your cheek as you laugh.

He may hate the way he comes off in the story of how you met, but he can safely say that he doesn’t regret a single thing.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenarios

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winterrsun · 5 months

Text

I’m in charge

Negan x reader SMUT

18+ only, mdni

Warnings: degradation, mentions of torture, dom! Negan, mild exhibitionism, mild knife play, squirting, scary/ mean Negan (basically just his true personality, but no actual violence occurs in story)

Authors note: this is not only my first the walking dead fic but it is hands down the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, it and me are depraved. Hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want a part 2 because it’s low key already half written in my head….

Summary: Negan coerced reader to be his wife at The Sanctuary in exchange for leaving her people at Alexandria alone - but reader founds out they’ve also been holding Daryl prisoner and abusing him . When she goes to confront Negan it doesn’t quite go as planned and he quickly reminds her who’s in charge.

You stormed through The Sanctuary, up the stairs towards Negan’s office. A few people eyed you wearily as you basically pushed past them in the corridor, not even noticing as the conversation you’d had a few hours earlier rang fresh in your mind.

It was only recently that Negan had let you start making visits to Alexandria, even more recently that he’d permitted you to go alone. You’d been living at The Sanctuary as his ‘wife’ for nearly a year now, and you’d built up a surprising level of mutual trust in that time. Especially given you weren’t exactly there willingly. But he’d always taken a liking to you, ever since he first met your group that night outside the camper van.

You were disgusted and terrified of him, but at the same time even then you couldn’t deny a level of chemistry and physical attraction that streamed between you when you first locked eyes. It was what had allowed you to convince him to spare Glenn, you were sure of it.

Then whenever he and his saviours would visit Alexandria to collect their haul, he’d always make a point of seeking you out and starting conversation. Until one day he made his offer; that you go with them back to The Sanctuary and the community at Alexandria will be left alone, never having to split their supplies with The Saviours again. Holding an alliance with them that near ensured no other group would dare try to attack the community. It was an offer far too good to refuse, though Carol and Rick and Daryl had tried to convince you to.

It was hard at first, almost unbearable, missing your family and settling into a cold, strange new home that felt like a twisted cross between a shitty summer camp and a military academy. But you managed, like you always did. Negan’s likeness towards you only grew and it didn’t take long for you to become his wife. In fact, you’d be lying if you didn’t admit it had made life more bearable. Both for the luxurious living quarters and the somewhat weird sisterhood type friendship you’d struck with the other wives. And yeah, the sex was pretty damn good too.

Yes, things were really not as bad as you’d expected they would turn out for you here, especially since you started visiting Alexandria and your family. You’d made the trip this morning, taking the drive filled with the usual joyful high of anticipation you got at the prospect of seeing everyone. Except not everyone was there when you arrived.

You didn’t notice at first; why would the absence of one individual jump out at you immediately? But you did notice the way everyone behaved, it was different. They seemed…sad, and nervous. It didn’t take long for Carol to ask the question that shattered the glass for you.

“Have you seen him? How is he?”

“Who?” You asked, heart beat fast increasing at the unease of the situation. You glanced around and clocked Rick and Carl, Glenn was with Maggie hushing Hershel. You didn’t see Daryl anywhere and knew before Carol’s answer left her lips.

“Daryl, they’ve had him for weeks. He’s being held at The Sanctuary. Nobody even knows if he’s still alive, we haven’t heard anything for at least a week.”

After gathering what more information you could you fast turned on your heels and commenced your mission you were closing in on now; confronting Negan immediately. You’d all but left in a cloud of dust to the cries of “be careful” from your friends and family.

But what did you care about being careful? The Saviours weren’t some terrifying, unknown threat anymore. They were your home now. Negan was technically your ‘husband’ for Christ’s sake. And he had been imprisoning and possibly torturing one of your best friends right under your nose for weeks without telling you a thing. Needless to say, you were beyond pissed.

That feeling of outrage was what fuelled your actions as you flung open the door to Negan’s office, hardly registering the dozen or so saviours sat around the conference style table. Negan was standing when you entered, at the far side of the table from where you stood, and he and every other person in the room immediately turned their heads to look in your direction at your loud entrance.

You didn’t hesitate to march across the room, around the table, up to Negan. “You want to explain to me what the FUCK is going on with Daryl and WHY you didn’t tell me he’s here?” You demanded. You were panting slightly both from the rushed journey you’d made up to the office and from the angry adrenaline currently pumping through your body.

Negan remained silent for a few moments before he answered you in a dangerously low tone. “Sorry doll, did you not notice I’m in the middle of a meeting?”

You stupidly continued “I don’t give a fuck about a fucking meeting, Negan. I want answers now. I get to Alexandria to find my friends and family distraught and they tell me you’re holding Daryl here prisoner. Starving him and beating him, how could you fucking do this? You better start explaining!”

You realised you’d gone too far before you’d actually finished the last word. You felt, more so than heard, Simon scoff somewhere to your left. For the first time since you’d walked in you began to feel self conscious of all the eyes in the room that were now darting between Negan and yourself. He smirked a little, and slowly turned to look at his followers, as if daring them to react to your boldness. His eyes met yours again, as he started to speak in a tone that was downright scary this time.

“You don’t get to fucking demand answers of me. You don’t get to demand anything. Don’t you dare forget your real place here”.

You looked down, at a loss for words finally, and softly bit your lower lip. You’d fucking done it now. Maybe he’d let you leave quietly if you acted apologetic and submissive now. Yeah, right.

He forcefully grabbed your jaw and yanked your head upwards so you’d look up at him again, his finger tips pressing in harder than necessary. “You look at me when I talk to you. You think you can barge in here, act all tough and bratty in front of my soldiers. Fucking think again.” Your eyes glanced sideways and briefly met Dwight’s, and Negan’s gripped on you tightened even further. “Don’t look over there, look at me. Don’t take your fucking eyes off me. You made this choice and now you will have to be on the receiving end of one loud wake up call. Don’t for a second think that my fondness for you means you have ANY authority here, you do NOT!”

You jumped as he yelled the last words, and your legs began to tremble as you looked up at him, neck and jaw beginning to ache.

“Now my men are gonna think that you think you can run circles around me. I can’t fucking have that. So we’re going to have to show them, and remind you, who exactly is in charge here. Get on your fucking knees, now.”

You slowly lowered yourself one leg at a time onto your knees, while he maintained his unrelenting grip on your lower jaw. It hurt your neck even more to look up at him from this angle, but you didn’t dare break eye contact.

“Open your mouth” he commanded. You did so immediately, and he did something he’d never done before. He spat right into your mouth.

You felt shameful and disgusted as the wet deposit landed on your tongue, but also the tell tale sign of heat and excitement began to prickle your body at this lewd act. You didn’t move, knowing better than to act without instruction.

A few second later, he uttered one more word; “swallow”. And you did, feeling the cold liquid run down your throat before blinking up at him.

His eyes softened, just a tiny bit, before they resumed their darkness. “Unzip my fly” he instructed next.

Fighting the urge to glance at your audience, you began to reach your hands towards him. Your heart pounding against your chest and in your eye drums. Your fingers softly brushed the fabric of his pants before he broke, and swatted them away motioning for you to get up.

“We don’t have time for any more of this now, we’ve got real shit to deal with” he said. You felt relief wash through you at the prospect of this almost being over. “Wait for me in your room, go straight there now” he instructed. Maybe not so over just yet.

“Yes, sir” you replied timidly. The first time you’d spoken since the dynamic shift has happened between you, and your tone of voice couldn’t have changed more.

You quickly exited the room with your head down and your cheeks burning red, tears stinging your eyes that you refused to let fall out until you made it back to your room.

It had been over an hour, but you hadn’t done much other than alternate between nervously pace around your room and sit on your bed staring at the door. You hadn’t really seen him like that before with you. It reminded you, shudderingly, of how he first treated your group when you met him. You cast your mind back to Abraham and were overwhelmed with dread. You had forgotten just how dangerous the man you lived with was. You supposed it was a self preservation effort; you knew you had to play the role of his wife regardless, so it was easier to live in denial and try to make the most of it. You felt shameful about that now, it was selfish and dumb.

You wondered if he’d actually hurt you. Maybe he’d throw you in the cell with Daryl. At least then you’d get to see Daryl. God you couldn’t stop thinking about him. On the way back to The Sanctuary your mind had more been preoccupied with being pissed off at Negan concealing this from you than actually worrying about Daryl’s safety. Yeah, Carol said they’d beaten him but you knew Daryl could take a bit of roughing up, and figured no real harm would have been done to him. But now you weren’t sure at all.

You’d become a nervous wreck by the time two sharp knocks were heard on the other side of your door. You hurried over and opened it, to find Negan standing on the other side. Eyebrows raised at you.

“I take it you’ve had some time to mull things over, anything you’d like to fucking to say to me?” He said.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting Negan” you mumbled, eyes on the floor.

He smirked slightly, before saying “yeah, you better be. I’m real fucking disappointed in you, doll. We have something special, I’ll admit, but that doesn’t mean you forget who I am. I’m the boss, you respect and obey me, no questions asked.” You stared at him, frozen, while he went on. “The fact you think you can demand answers of me at all is a problem, but the fact you felt it acceptable to do it in front of my Saviours tells me you need a serious lesson to remind you of your place.”

You gulped, and started to try and plea your case. “I’m sorry Negan, I really am. I know my place here, I was blinded by concern for Daryl; he’s my family!”. You can tell it’s falling on deaf ears as his expression remains unchanged; his mind set. You wondered with terror what you’d been trying to keep out of your mind for the last hour; would he use the iron on you? Surely not on your face, he wouldn’t want to ruin his own viewing pleasure, but what’s to stop him maiming something like your arm?

Tears started to fall down your face, and he finally moved towards you further. “Oh baby doll” you gained an ounce of hope that he’s softening, “don’t start crying already, we haven’t even gotten started”.

The hope vanishes and your insides clenched in fear. “Are you going to hurt me?” You whispered.

“Not badly,” he said, “not in any way I know you can’t take baby girl”.

His tone edged into a territory you were more familiar with, and you raised an eyebrow tentatively. He was teasing you for sure, and now you were less terrified about the possibility of a truly terrible punishment. Well, one that would cause real lasting physical harm anyway. He slowly raised his arm and cupped your face, tilting it up towards his.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say, and show me what a good girl you can be,” he said steadily, and you gave him a small nod. “You gotta earn back my trust, and it isn’t going to be fucking easy.”

His hand slid down your décolletage, around your shoulder and landed on your waist. You couldn’t help but lean into it the tiniest bit, and noticed a small bubble of anticipation forming in your stomach.

That was followed by a twinge of guilt and sadness as you once again remembered Daryl. But you knew you had to face reality, the only way for you to have any hope of helping Daryl is to win back favour with Negan. You had to perform for him now, exactly how he wants. And if there was a small part of you that might enjoy some parts of what’s about to happen, well, that seemed like a small bonus you earned to slightly counter balance from the trauma of your life for the last however many years.

Negan gave your waist a squeeze and stepped back, drinking in your appearance. You were still dressed for this morning’s Alexandria visit; tight black jeans, a grey tank top and black laced up boots. You never left the compound in any shoes other than heavy boots that could kick in a walker skull if needed.

“Strip down to your underwear” he commanded softly, and you tried to make hasty work of your shoelaces, and not look too awkward hoisting them off. Next your hands shot to your pants button.

“No need to rush this part so much” he directed, and you immediately slowed down your efforts as you pulled your jeans down your legs, trying to bend over in attractive an angle as possible.

You made eye contact with him as you lifted your top over your head, and he licked his bottom lip slightly as his eyes glint. You then stand still, feeling a little awkward with him fully clothed and you in your worn out bra and cotton panties, staring at you like a lion sizing up its prey.

You know he likes to be the one to remove your next items of apparel, and sure enough he moved towards you and reached around to the back of your waist. He flicked open your bra with one hand and lets it drop to the floor.

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver knife with a smirk. Your heart pounded against your now exposed chest. He ran the cool metal blade along your side and you shivered at its touch on your hot skin.

He moved swiftly and the sound of fabric cutting cleanly was heard before your panties drop to the floor.

“Mmmmmmm” he groaned in appreciation at your now fully naked form. “Well go on, do a little twirl for me” he instructed. You spun around, feeling like a doll in a music box on display. As you returned to face him, he raised his eyebrows indicating you to continue, and as you rotated back around again he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, back now to him.

You should have known he’d want to check out your ass, he loved worshipping it. But this wasn’t about being worshipped. He gently pushed you in the back so you began to move over to the bed with small footsteps, stopping just in front of it.

“Bend over, hands on the mattress” he instructed, and you leaned forward precariously while he added “feet further apart doll”.

You felt a burn of humiliation at the vulnerable position you were in, legs and cheeks spread open, presented in front of him. You flinched slightly at the touch of his fingers on your bum cheeks. He caressed them lightly, before delivering a sharp slap to your right cheek.

“Alright, let’s get this part over with” Negan said with a slight sigh, and you heard movement behind you, the sounds of what you were sure was him unbuckling his belt. You knew better than to look around and confirm your theory, so instead looked down at your hands and tried to steady your increasingly rapid breathing.

Further confirmation was given to you at the sound of leather on skin, as he warmed up a practise tap in his palm. Then came a burning flash of pain across your backside, and you couldn’t help but yelp.

“We’ll do ten, count me down doll” he murmured to you, and you whimpered in protest before you could stop yourself.

He tutted sympathetically, “I know baby girl, but you can take it. It’ll push your limits, but I have to teach you a real lesson here.” You nod reluctantly. “I told you to count, didn’t I?” He added in a more menacing tone.

Immediately you stuttered out the word “ten!”

You counted down each painful lash, picturing the sight of your ass covered in red marks, hoping that none of them had broken skin. Shamefully, you noticed each strike delivered an underlying trace of pleasure mingled with the pain. You were sure Negan knew it too.

As you rounded out on “T-two!” With a tear rolling down your face onto the sheets below, Negan paused. You dare a glance behind you and noticed he’s bent down, examining his work. You felt his breath fan over your most private spot, and realised he wasn’t looking at your bruised up ass; he’s staring at your pussy.

You felt the smooth leather of his belt suddenly invade your slit, and retreat just as suddenly. Then it appeared in front of your face as Negan narrated “fucking glistening, you filthy girl” with a chuckle.

Negan then delivered the final blow, directly to your pussy this time, landing square on your clit, and you let out a scream. You weren’t even sure whether it was more a scream of pleasure or pain at this point.

Negan cleared his throat pointedly and you realised you missed the final count. “One” you sighed out, before your trembling arms finally gave way and you slumped your upper body onto the mattress. Your legs started to follow and you bent your knees towards the ground, but Negan’s arm scooped under your waist and held your hips up, letting out a “not so fast doll” as he did.

You were now face down on the bed, with your feet still on the ground spread apart, and your backside more on display in the air than ever. When he was sure your legs are steady again, Negan released your hips and you felt more than heard him sink to his knees behind you.

“You took your punishment well baby girl,” he murmured, “now I’ll help make you feel better” he finished before plunging his face in between your legs.

He motorboated your cheeks before taking his hands and spreading them apart, and you felt his wet tongue land where you needed it the most. You moaned and leant back into him as he lapped at your pussy, eating you like a depraved man. His tongue flicked downwards at your clit, which stung just slightly after the belt slap he’d administered just minutes ago. He suckled at your sensitive nub and you let out a loud moan. You could already feel pleasure building towards climax after the state he’d riled you up into. His tongue lazily dragged back up away from your clit, and didn’t stop until it traveled all the way up past your pussy. He quickly replaced it with his finger sliding in past your slit and you immediately pushed back agreeably against the welcome entrance inside you.

You let out a gasp of surprise as his tongue found its new destination, one that he’d never been before - nor had anyone for that matter. He delicately licked your puckered asshole and you marveled at the new sensation, while two fingers now formed a steady rhythm pumping in and out of your pussy. You’d never felt anything like it, and as his tongue got braver, starting to push itself inside your tight hole, you fell into a continuous flow of moans and pleas while softly rocking into his rhythm.

You thought you were already in an unbeatable state of pleasure when his thumb began to rub circles around your clit, and you grasped helplessly at the sheets beneath you. While you knew your orgasm was still building and approaching, you felt so good it was like you were already coming. Yet you felt the feeling continue to build, and you knew that no matter what you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, Negan, oh please” you sang out.

His tongue danced around and inside your asshole while his fingers mercilessly fucked you, and his thumb circled your clit faster and faster. Your gut clenched and you cried out, reaching a peak like no other you’d ever experienced. Suddenly, too late to react, you felt a secondary feeling like you were about to pee. And then it all happened, you screamed in overwhelming pleasure while fluid broke out of your body and gushed down Negan’s hand. You swore you actually saw stars for a moment and not once did Negan’s actions pause.

You heard him let out an animalistic growl from behind you as you soaked his fingers and he finally withdrew his face from your ass cheeks. As your high came down he continued to pound into your pussy and your legs started to buckle, your energy fast fading.

“Negan, I can’t, no more” you let out softly, desperation in your voice.

He chuckled, delivering two final harsh thrusts of his fingers before pulling them out.

You bathed in the warm, hazy feeling that tingled throughout your body post orgasm, letting yourself lean into the drunk sensation it gave you for a moment.

“Turn around doll,” he instructed. Shakily you pushed yourself up on your elbows and turned so you were sat up watching him, while he stood up straight before you. He looked you in the eyes and licked every one of his fingers clean, slurping up your juice that had coated his entire hand and soaked his sleeve.

Any embarrassment you were at risk of feeling from having squirted for the first time in your life vanished when you realised how much he evidently loved it. He stopped before he got to his pinky and now brought his hand to your mouth. He pressed his finger to your lips and you opened up to let him in, sucking your own juices off him and noting the tangy taste on your tongue.

“Fuck, you did so good baby girl” he praised, stroking your hair with his other hand.

You were too exhausted to reply at this point, and he seemed to pick up on that. Finally feeling satisfied with his punishment, he smiled at you sympathetically. “Time for you to get some rest I think” he murmured, guiding you into the bed as your eyelids felt heavy already.

You slowly laid your head down onto the pillow as he guided you encouragingly, and let your eyes flutter closed. In that moment, you couldn’t remember anything at all that had happened that day. But it would all come back to you in the morning.

#Negan smith #the walking dead #Negan smith smut #Negan smut #Negan x reader #negan x reader smut #Negan filth #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan x you

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calliopesdiary · 14 days

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escapism. TEASER

MINORS DNI- 18+ NSFW

poly!marauders band au + leadsinger!reader

warnings: this fic contains: smut, punishing kink, degrading kink, finger fucking, manhandling

summary: when you and the boys get into a slight disagreement, during one of your shows you sing a song you KNOW they don't like you singing. and lets just say you get a... stern talking to.

contents: fem!leadsinger!reader, i don't know how to write smut..., bassist!remus, drummer!james, guitarist!sirius, cussing

a/n: as i've implied previously this is my first attempt at writing smut, so lmk if its good!!

a/n for teaser: i’m genuinely curious if i can write smut because (im a dirty lil virgin) but also i’ve never even tried

YOU KNEW THIS WOULD END BADLY... your boys were going to be pissed at you, but somehow you couldn't find it in your heart to feel guilty or bad. they hurt your feelings, so you'd just hurt them back.

it was certainly not the right way to go through this.

but there was something so thrilling about it, about singing this song. up on stage. with thousands of people to see. and you could bask in the glory of pissing off your boyfriends.

was it really your fault? the feminine urge to sing this song was overwhelming and... let's just say you had totally recorded it behind their backs. when you first showed Remus the lyrics he was skeptical.

"Love, I admire the tempo but don't you think it's a little too dirty for our genre?" You knew he was probably just jealous about you saying those kinds of words for everyone in the world to hear.

James was next, and James could be blunt.

"I adore the intro, sweetheart. but I don't like you talking that way unless its with us." you remember him shrugging.

Sirius, ohh god, Sirius.

"No."

"Why-"

"I'm not letting you play that at a show.

bingo, they were jealous of the lyrics they were hearing.

so when you had that argument, you knew this was the perfect way at getting them back.

the show started out as usual, playing the normal set. but not making eye contact with your boys.

you set up a track before you went on.

"You guys can leave the stage now." you looked up at James.

"Aren't you going to leave aswell? your body needs rest-"

"I'm fine, I had coffee." You snarked, stepping back onstage. the crowd cheering for your return.

"Alllright... this last song- honestly isn't pg at all and i'm probably going to get murdered for this but-"

the track starts, the boys can hear it from backstage. Sirius is pissed, sexually.

"sleezin' and teasin', i'm sittin' on him-"

"all of my diamonds are drippin' on him."

"i met him at the bar- it was 12 or somethin'"

"i ordered two more wines cause tonight i want em'"

"that bitch-" Sirius slurs.

"a little context- if you care to listen."

"just a heartbroke-bitch, high-heels six-inch."

"in the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne."

you had done it, sang the whole song with the audience going absolutely insane. and your boyfriends were pissed to say the least.

after you had finished, you wandered off stage when you got lectured.

(full version is coming (unfortunately) soon)

#calliopesdiary #marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #fanfiction #poly!marauders x reader #minors dni #smut #marauders smut

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gurugirl · 3 months

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an adorable bad boy | loveable!rogue!harry

This is part 1 of a Patreon AU (4 parts have been posted on Patreon already). If you'd like more check out my Patreon! xoxo

A loveable rogue is someone who breaks the law for personal profit while being nice and charming, likely with a sad or dark past.

AU Premise: Harry has been in and out of jail for nearly a decade due to a string of bad luck and bad choices. But he's not a bad guy. Not really.

Summary: Harry's trying to keep on the straight and narrow now that he's out of jail but things have never come easy for him. And then he meets the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. If only she'd give him her number.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: Mentions of drugs and the sale of drugs, mentions of jail time

❊❊❊

Harry’s life sucked. Every time he tried to get on the right track, his past would come back to haunt him. He took responsibility for the things he did and he knew he deserved to have the book thrown at him. But he also knew where he came from didn’t make things easier for him. Starting at a young age he had to act like an adult and do things most people would never imagine needing to do just to get by.

Now, nearing 30, he was determined to get his shit together. If he had to step foot in another jail cell again he was going to just end it. He couldn’t handle another sentence that had him losing a job, his car, the place he was staying… Every time he got into trouble it was like he had to start over again. From scratch.

And he was always well-behaved once behind bars so he usually got out early on good behavior. But keeping out of trouble as a free man was nearly impossible. He’d be tossed out on the street once he was released but with no place to go and not a dime to his name, times were hard. He had to hustle for a dollar. And when he meant hustle, it usually involved something illegal.

Getting a job that paid well was a joke. No one wanted a convicted felon. No one would hire a man who had a criminal record. Why risk it? He sure as hell wouldn’t if he were in their shoes.

There was no program to help him reintegrate. No help for a safe spot to sleep. Shelters wouldn’t even allow him a safe haven due to his past. He had nothing. Incarceration meant drudging through, keeping his head down, and following directions. That was easy. But there was nothing easy about rebuilding his life over and over again once he was out from behind bars.

His sister wouldn’t answer his calls anymore. He’d drained that well dry. His mother had cut him off too. His cousin was a last resort, but that’s sort of how his life was these days. Everything was a last resort.

“Harry! My dude! You get out?”

He was leaning against a tall residential building in an alley with a cigarette in hand. The phone he was using was the one that he had when he got locked up, kept for him upon his release. The officer helping him fill out his release forms allowed him to charge his phone before they pushed him out the doors. How kind.

The wifi signal from the bookstore gave him access to his apps so he could make the phone call he was dreading.

“Yep. Glad to be out of there. How are you doing?” He figured he’d make some small talk before getting to the point. He didn’t want to be rude, after all.

Saul gave him the rundown of what had been going on with everyone. And then Harry learned he was engaged.

“Wow. Congrats, cousin. Proud of you. You guys living together?”

“Nah. Not until after the wedding. She’s a really good girl. Super sweet. Her whole family is. Just like, the nicest people I’ve ever met. But she doesn’t want to move in until we’re married since that looks bad to her parents,” Saul laughed. “They’re super conservative about stuff like that. They think she’s still a virgin.”

Harry humored him with a chortle through the phone and then sighed. The sun was going down. Small talk needed to come to a halt. He had to get this part over with.

“So, uh… hate to ask this but um, could you let me crash at your place for a few nights? I’ve got nowhere to go since I just got out and gonna be cold tonight. Otherwise, I’d just sleep in the park or something.”

Silence for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“Did you ask your sister? I mean I’m sure–“

“She hates me right now. Won’t take my calls. But man, look, it’s okay if you can’t. I get it.”

“You know what? Sure. You can stay here for a bit. I know shit’s hard. How you gettin’ here?”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding in and leaned his head back into the building in relief, “Gonna walk. Literally have nothing to my name. Just my old cell phone, half charged, and this free wifi I’m using to call you. I can get there in like an hour.”

Saul told him he’d pick him up but Harry didn’t want to trouble him anymore than he had. It was already embarrassing asking for help. Plus a walk through the city would feel good. It’d been a while since he’d seen the hustle and bustle of daily life in the city.

It was late September. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with boots. At least he had a beanie on his head. His cousin lived in one of those “up-and-coming” neighborhoods. Gritty but recently gentrified. His flat was two floors up. A flimsy plastic call button for the residents hung outside the reinforced glass door that opened up to a small lobby with mailboxes in the wall to the left and just beyond that, old wooden stairs that led up to each apartment.

Saul was on floor three. Harry took the stairs two at a time and the door was already open with his smiling cousin waiting for him and then a warm embrace that made Harry feel like maybe he was going to be okay. Silly as it sounded. He hadn’t been hugged in over a year. Hadn’t felt safe and relaxed in over a year.

“Ordered some pizza from this fire spot. Should be here soon. Beer?”

Harry could cry. He hadn’t had pizza or beer in over a year either. There was a lot he hadn’t had in over a year.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you, man.”

Harry followed Saul into his tiny galley kitchen and leaned against the frame of the door as he watched his cousin pull a beer from the fridge, “And thank you for everything. For this. I really mean it. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a job.”

Handing Harry his beer Saul laughed, “We’ll see. Alyssa and I might need help for the wedding next summer. Her dad wants to have the wedding at their place. They’ve got this nice house with a massive garden in the back. But they need people to help landscape and do some manual labor to get it ready. Might save us a little money if you could help. But that’s a ways off,” he waved his hand as he walked past Harry into the living room. “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ll figure out a way you can pay me back.”

. . .

A few nights turned into a few weeks. And Harry did find a job, but he’d need to save up for a while longer to be able to afford a place on his own. He figured, at least he could pay Saul for food and help pay some of the bills in the meantime.

Fortunately, the job he found paid pretty well. Unfortunately, it was illegal. It was what had gotten him thrown in jail in the first place.

Selling drugs. Mainly weed. Some shrooms, ecstasy, molly… party drugs.

He applied to 28 places. Twenty. Eight. Dishwasher, food prep, janitor, midnight stocker, busboy, fast food line cook… everything he could find from places that might take a chance on someone with a record. After a week of having Harry sleeping on his couch, Saul appeared to be getting frustrated. So, Harry did what he always did when he needed money (and who doesn’t need money?). He called Memo.

Memo always had a spot for Harry. And because he trusted Harry he gave him an advance.

The first thing Harry did with his money was buy some clothes for himself and groceries for the house. Getting rid of his supply was easy. He still had all his old contacts to sell to and with Harry’s natural charm, he was introduced to even more people who wanted some killer weed and Harry was their man.

Saul seemed to lighten up a bit when Harry began paying him cash for his part of the bills and to help cover some of the rent.

Being a drug dealer bought him time. Eventually, he’d find a better gig. He knew there were places that would hire felons, he just had to be patient. But in the meantime, doing shady shit to get by was necessary.

“So, I’m going out tonight. With Alyssa and a few others. Just going to Ray’s. You can join us if you want.”

Harry was sitting on the couch readying himself for another night in but maybe going out with his cousin for a few beers could be fun, “Anyone I know going?”

Saul shook his head, “Doubt it. It’ll be Alyssa, her little sister, and a few of our mutual friends.”

Harry figured it was better if the people that were going to be there didn’t know him. And besides, what better way to spend a Friday night as a single man? Sitting at Saul’s house was fine, but going out and meeting new people with a few beers in hand sounded a hell of a lot better.

Harry nodded, “Why not?”

. . .

Roy’s might have been an old hole in the wall, but it was a popular old hole in the wall. Harry could hear the music before they walked into the black brick building with the lighted, vintage metal sign that hung above the door.

The smell of stale cigarettes and beer hung in the dark space, a shiny lacquered bar that ran half the length of the room, high-top tables, two pool tables, and a few booths.

Alyssa nearly pummeled Saul, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek as she squealed.

“We’re just over here! Tony got us a big booth 'cause he got here early.” She pulled Saul along with her. Harry followed.

The group that came into view were two young men and two young women. He barely had a chance to take it all in before Alyssa pulled his arm, “Everyone! This is Harry, Saul’s cousin. The one we were telling you about.”

The one we were telling you about. Harry knew what that meant.

Harry smiled and nodded as he slid into the booth. It was long and easily accommodated all seven of them.

“I’m Kelin,” the man he sat next to held his hand out to Harry to shake. The one next to Kelin greeted Harry, “I’m Tony,” he turned and looked at the girl next to him, “And this is my girlfriend, Dasha.” Dasha smiled and waved at Harry.

Then as Alyssa moved into the opposite side of the booth with Saul at the end she hugged the girl next to Dasha, “And this is my little sister, Y/n.”

Some moments in time are unexplainable. Like moments when things feel like fate but you don’t believe in that sort of thing. Or like when someone is speaking a language you don’t know but you swear you understood everything they just said. Sometimes it was more like a riddle you couldn’t figure out all day only to wake up in the middle of the night from a dream with the answer.

The moment Y/n set her pretty gaze upon Harry was like that for him. Something inexplicable. Something enchanting. Almost mythical.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Harry spoke as he tried to tear his eyes from the angel called Y/n. He forced his pupils away to look at everyone else but his heart was already beginning to thump violently in his chest.

Drinks were ordered and conversation resumed to wherever it was left off before Saul and Harry’s arrival.

“So, we were discussing anything but the wedding!” Dasha laughed as Alyssa moaned exaggeratedly.

“I was only letting you guys know the theme!” Alyssa laughed.

“Girl, tonight is a night off. And the wedding isn’t for like another 8 months!”

Harry tried to focus on the conversation as he sipped his beer but he couldn’t help allowing his eyes the indulgence of Y/n’s pretty face. She had some kind of clear drink. A vodka soda maybe. And when Kelin started talking about the Halloween party he was throwing Y/n’s eyes met Harry’s again and he thought he was going to fall limp to the floor in a puddle at her feet.

He didn’t even know what her voice sounded like and he was already imagining waking up next to her in the morning and getting to see her disheveled hair and warm pajamas and soft, tired eyes. He had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before. Ever.

Another round of drinks made its way to the table and Harry hardly spoke a word. Y/n only laughed a few times at what was being said but otherwise, she remained quiet as she sipped her drink.

He needed to talk to her. He needed to learn all about her. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important, so vital to him. But every time she looked at him his throat went dry and he searched her face for any sign that she might be feeling the same odd connection that he was feeling.

“I need a cigarette,” Y/n spoke as she looked at Alyssa, making Saul and Alyssa scoot out of the booth to let her out.

Harry tapped his fingers on the table as he watched her walk past before speaking up, “Yeah, me too.” He hopped up from the booth and jogged to catch up with his dream girl before she could push the door open.

“Allow me,” he grabbed the handle and opened the door for her.

“What a gentleman. Thank you,” she grinned teasingly at him and Harry felt his head swirl and his knees go weak. She smiled at him and he was sure he was in love at that moment.

“I try,” he chuckled as he followed her to the edge of the building before she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. Harry liked the same brand.

He pulled out his lighter and held it out as she put the filter between her lips. The flame lit the tip and then Harry put his own cigarette into his mouth and lit it.

“You have good taste,” Y/n gestured with her cigarette toward his and watched his mouth as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs.

“Guess we both do,” he blew the smoke out and it mixed with the smoke she blew out at the same time.

“Heard you recently got out of jail. Alyssa told me to keep my distance,” she laughed as she took another puff, her eyes on his.

“Yeah. Trying to keep on the straight and narrow now. Jail sucks,” he let his gaze wander over her lips and jawline and down to her neck, “I’m not that bad, though. You gonna get in trouble with your big sister for having a smoke with me?”

She snorted (which Harry found adorable and irresistible) and shook her head, “I’m an adult. She tries to act protective and tough but she knows better than to tell me what I can and can’t do. In fact,” she took a drag and lowered her gaze to Harry’s outfit and then back up to his eyes before exhaling, “When she tells me not to do something it just makes me want to do it more.”

Harry felt his face grow warm as he listened to her speak and couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, dimples winking awake in his cheeks.

“Oh shit,” she leaned into the brick and crossed an arm over her middle, one arm angled out with the cigarette propped between her two fingers, “You’ve got dimples.”

Harry ashed his stick, keeping the smile on his face, “I guess I do. Is it okay?”

Y/n laughed softly, the prettiest sound Harry had ever heard, and nodded, “Of course it’s okay. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable…” Harry repeated as he leaned his shoulder into the brick and faced Y/n, “Think I’m adorable?” He pulled his lips into his mouth, tamping his wide smile as he blushed. Yeah, he was blushing.

She reached her hand up to his shoulder-length hair to tug at a curl, “You are. Pretty curls, green eyes, dimples. I get why Alyssa didn’t want me to get mixed up with you. An adorable bad boy. Dangerous combo.”

Harry shook his head and looked down at her feet before winding his pupils up her frame to her face, “Bad boy? Nah, not really. Just made some stupid decisions.”

Y/n shrugged and pulled at her cigarette before blowing out the hot smoke, “Mmm….” She pursed her lips and squinted at him, “You’re definitely a bad boy. You kind of emanate that persona. And I bet you use those dimples to charm all the ladies.”

Harry chuckled and looked down again to give his retinas a break from her breathtaking beauty. When he looked back at her he shook his head slowly, “If anything you’re the charmer. Making me blush over here.”

She giggled and leaned her head back as she looked up into the sky. Harry was not going to be getting over her laugh. He knew he’d be dreaming about it too.

“I’m just honest is all. Not particularly charming I don’t think.”

Harry shook his head and pointed at her, “No. You are definitely charming. Sweeping me right off my feet.”

“Oh, I am? Falling for me already, Harry?” She smirked at him and turned her body to face his, mimicking his stance.

Was it too soon for him to fall for her? Yes. But Harry was never one to play by usual timelines. He grinned and licked his lips, “Be bad if I said I was?”

She puffed out a laugh, “Probably would be bad. You don’t even know me. I’m really not all that great. Lots of issues. Very unstable,” she laughed as she gestured at her head and then wrapped her lips around the filter to inhale.

“If that’s the case, then you’re just that much cuter,” Harry parted his lips to place the cigarette between them as he kept his eyes on hers.

She bit her lip and turned to look out into the street, “You gonna go to the Halloween party next week?”

Harry shook his head, “Probably not. Wasn’t invited. Don’t like to dress up for shit like that anyway.”

“Hmm… If you go I’ll go,” she turned to look at him and raised her brows.

Harry stitched his brows together and tilted his head, “Are you serious?”

She nodded, “Sure. Why not. Wasn’t planning on going either but I will if you do.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and grinned, “Still wasn’t invited, though. We’ll see.”

Y/n tossed her butt down to the ground and stepped over the tip to crunch out the burning end, “Probably should get back in there. Alyssa’s gonna think we’ve run off together. That’d really get her going.”

Harry chuckled and followed suit with his own cigarette and nodded before following her back to the booth in the bar.

This time, as luck would have it, Harry scooted into his original spot and Y/n sat down next to him at the end.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke,” Alyssa frowned at Y/n and Harry leaned forward to put his elbows on the table as he turned to look at Y/n’s profile. She was certainly stunning.

Y/n shook her head and looked at Dasha, “Will you pass my drink down?”

Harry looked down at his lukewarm beer and pushed himself into the seat, his back hitting the vinyl cushion behind him before turning his head to watch as Y/n drank from her glass.

Everyone at the table resumed their conversation but both Harry and Y/n were thinking about the way their thighs were pressed together and how warm it felt. How nice it was.

“You’re staring,” she whispered with a grin as she set her glass down on the table and turned slightly to see the limn of his outline in her peripheral.

He grinned as he leaned his shoulder into hers as he spoke quietly, “Can’t help it.”

Harry tried to be as subtle as possible with everyone around but his skin was tingling in delight any time she shifted to pick up her glass her thigh ran against the stretch of his jeans. He regretted that he couldn’t stare into her beautiful eyes but he loved her nearness. The smell of her perfume and her shampoo.

“So, Harry,” Tony spoke up, “What do you do for fun?”

Harry was caught off guard. He’d been far too focused on the girl next to him that he nearly forgot he might need to participate in a conversation.

He laughed and looked at Saul and then to Tony, “I like music a lot. Um… reading. I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“He used to be in a band. Plays guitar and sings. He can play almost any instrument actually,“ Saul chimed in.

Harry rolled his eyes when everyone began to ask questions. He didn’t enjoy talking about himself because then that wound up leading to discussing his time in jail. Thankfully no one brought it up, though he was sure everyone already knew anyway. Saul wasn’t exactly discreet.

When the bill was paid after everyone threw down some cash, Y/n slid out of the booth with Harry right behind her, “Can I have your number?” He spoke so only she could hear as he brushed his fingers against hers.

She stopped and turned toward him, a mischievous grin on her face, “I’ll give you my number if you come to the party next weekend.”

Everyone began to walk to the door and Y/n turned to leave but Harry wasn’t done. He felt his heart walloping in his chest as he hastened his steps after her, pulling at her hand as stealthily as possible, “I can’t just crash a party I wasn’t invited to.”

When they stepped outside Y/n moved to the side to let everyone walk past and she looked up at Harry, “If you don’t come then you don’t get my number. It’s up to you.”

Harry swallowed as he looked down at the pretty girl in amazement, “Fine. I’ll be there.”

She smiled sweetly and raised her hand to poke at his dimple, “I know you will.”

NEXT PART (link goes to Patreon)

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