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birdiewriteslit · 6 months

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“on the down low”

harry james potter x f!weasley!reader

no voldemort au

summary: you and harry have been hiding your relationship from your family for four months, but when he stays over for the holidays, they start to uncover the truth, one by one.

warnings: idk how long this is but it feels long, kissing, fluff, CHRISTMAS

me pretending voldemort doesn’t exist again for the sake of plot convenience and my own happiness

Godric, you hadn’t realized how hard it would be to pretend over the holiday. At first, it seemed like a dream come true. Harry staying at the burrow for Christmas meant you’d be able see him whenever you wanted, but you couldn’t exactly do what you wanted.

During the day, you and Harry had to act indifferent to each other, like you hadn’t been together since the end of the summer.

It was different than it was at Hogwarts, where nobody suspected a seventh year to go for her brother’s best friend, who was a year younger. That excluded Hermione, of course, who was just too damn smart to not figure you out.

You hadn’t realized how easy it was to sneak around in a giant castle with a multitude of empty classrooms and an invisibility cloak at your disposal compared to your house of nine other people where the walls were thin and the furniture was old, regardless of proximity between you.

You kicked Harry’s foot under the dinner table. He looked up from his plate and stared at you, bewildered. You nodded to your mother who had just asked him a question he clearly hadn’t heard.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his response. “Sorry?” He took his gaze away from you and onto Molly.

“Harry, I asked you if you’ve gotten yourself a girlfriend this year?” she clarified.

Harry spluttered, glancing at you quickly before looking back at her. He cleared his throat. “No, I haven’t.”

Your mother tutted. “A shame, really. Let’s hope you don’t end up like Charlie. Such a handsome boy, and yet, he can’t find a nice woman to settle down with,” she sighed and turned her attention to your older brother, who was rolling his eyes.

Harry looked relieved that he was no longer the one being questioned. “Mum, stop it. I’m only 22. I’m too young to settle down. Bill’s older and he’s not married.”

Bill stopped mid bite to gesture violently at Charlie to cut it out, but Molly paid him no mind.

“Spend your whole life with dragons, see if I care,” she responded vehemently. “Let’s hope your sister doesn’t go off with you to Romania when she graduates.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you became your mother’s new subject of torture. It was true, you were looking into a career with dragons, but it was unlikely you’d end up on the same reserve as your brother.

“You know, darling, you ought to find a nice boy. It would do you well.”

You grimaced. “And here we are, back to your favorite topic.”

“Not mine,” Fred interjected.

“Certainly not,” George added. “She’s not allowed to date.”

“Oh, she’s not, is she?” Ginny said, giving you a seemingly knowing look. Merlin, you could only hope she knew nothing.

“No, and neither are you, Gin,” Fred said swiftly.

“We’ll that’s unfortunate,” Ginny looked at you smugly. “Because I think our sister has had her eye on someone.”

Harry turned paler than normal, looking at you in alarm, his face saying, ‘Did you tell her?’ Hermione, to his side, gave you a similar look.

Your face heated under the eyes of your entire family. You shot Ginny a glare before deciding to get her back. “That’s what you think, but I know you bloody well fancy Dean Thomas.”

The focus shifted from you to Ginny. “Dean Thomas?” said Ron, staring at your sister in astonishment.

“Who’s Dean Thomas?” your mother asked cheekily.

Ginny groaned, hiding her red face in her hands. “I’m excusing myself. Goodnight, family.”

She stood up from the crowded table and basically threw her plate into the sink before running upstairs.

“Seriously, who’s Dean Thomas?” your mum asked for the second time.

“A boy in Ron’s year,” you explained briefly. “He’s perfectly decent,” you elaborated further, once you realized your family’s eyes were unrelenting.

“Well, who does she think you fancy?” Bill said, grinning. Why did the first thing he contributed during this conversation have to target you? Why couldn’t it have been revenge on Charlie?

“How should I know? I haven’t told her anything that would make her think I was interested in anyone.” That was a lie. You did tell her something.

“Are you?” Bill followed up.

“That’s really none of your business,” you said, standing up from the table and clearing your plate.

“As long as it’s not someone in our year, that’s what I say.” Ron nudged Harry, looking at his friend who nodded weakly.

You began to walk up the stairs, but not before shooting Harry a look that pleaded him to come upstairs when he could get away. Because of your circumstances, you’d gotten very good at giving each other wordless glances like these.

A little while later, a pajama clad Harry entered your room, checking the hall for anyone before closing the door behind him.

“Ron thinks I’m in the bathroom. Did you tell Ginny about us?” he said hurriedly.

“Of course not,” you denied. “I may have given her a hint though.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to! She was talking about Dean, and asked me if I liked anybody, and who am I to lie, so I said yes.”

“Um,” Harry interjected. “One problem with that is that we lie about our relationship every day. You are a liar.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Harry. Anyway, she asked me who and I wouldn’t tell her, so she started listing names. She asked me what I thought of you, and I let it slip that I thought you were cute,” you said sheepishly, toying with a button on his shirt. “I think I scared her off with the Dean thing, we should be in the clear.”

Harry only grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

“Oh shut up, would you?” you said, pushing his chest away from yours.

“Sure.” He pulled you back by the waist, his hands resting on your hips as he ducked down to kiss you. He tasted like toothpaste, but you really didn’t mind it.

He was about to pull away after a moment, but you tangled your fingers in his hair, keeping his mouth attached to yours.

“I’ve missed you all day,” Harry murmured against your lips.

“Godric, me too.” You clung onto him like you knew it wouldn’t last, and it didn’t. Ron called out to Harry from somewhere in the hallway, and Harry pulled away from you. His glasses were fogged up and he was cursing Ron.

When the lenses cleared, he leaned down to press another chaste kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, exiting the room quietly.

You slumped onto your bed, staring at the open door with a forlorn look on your face. Ginny suddenly appeared in the doorway, her mouth hanging open and her hand pointing to the end of the hall, then to where you sat.

“What- what have I just witnessed? Why? This changes life as we know it. You! And Harry! You-“

You hurried to cut her off, standing from the bed and practically sprinting to the door to cover her mouth. “You be quiet now,” you warned, looking both ways in the hall and shoving Ginny inside your room.

“Why did I see Harry leaving this room looking like he’s got something to hide?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Listen, lady, you didn’t see anything, because nothing happened,” you said, pointing a finger at her.

“I never said anything happened, I just said he had something to hide. And guess what? I know he has something to hide, because I know you like him,” she retaliated, pointing her finger right back.

“Who? Me? Like Harry? Psssshhh… you’ve got the wrong girl. That doesn’t sound anything like me.”

Ginny folded her arms over her chest. “Oh really? Well, does this sound like you? Oh, Ginny, Harry’s just so cute! I wish he would like me back because, well, I just love him so much!” She batted her eyelashes, imitating a version of you that didn’t exist.

“Actually, Gin, that sounds nothing like me, so you can just forget anything that you think you saw,” you retorted.

“I don’t think I will forget. I think I’ll just tell everyone that you’re sneaking around with Harry. I didn’t miss the look he gave you at dinner either! So I can tell everyone, or you can quit lying and just give me all the details.”

She did have a way of getting you to cave. Really, it was just tactful manipulation.

“Alright fine, but if you tell anyone, you’re dead. Well, you can tell Hermione. She already knows.”

Ginny gasped, very offended. “You told her before your own sister?”

“I did not! She’s too smart for her own good. Anyways, sit down.”

Then, you told Ginny everything. It felt actually good to be able to talk about your relationship to someone other than Hermione, especially to your only sister, who you were honestly very grateful for.

You told her about how he kissed you a week before you left for school, solidifying the relationship you were having throughout the summer holiday. You told her about how he was funny and such a gentlemen. You even told her about how you’d been sneaking off since school started, and what you’d been doing.

Once Ginny was fully satisfied with the information and you were relatively sure she wouldn’t squawk to any of your brothers, she bid you goodnight and went to bed.

The following morning, Christmas Eve morning, you had risen later than usual. “Good morning, family,” you greeted, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the kettle.

“Morning,” Ginny said from the table. “I trust you slept well. I expect you feel loads lighter now.”

“Oh yeah, much lighter,” you grinned back.

“What are you two on about?” Bill said from his seat across from Ginny.

“Oh, nothing. Our sister just shared some interesting things with me last night,” she hummed.

You saw Harry’s head perk up from the couch, where he was laying. Ron was sprawled on the floor below.

“Gin, shut up,” you warned quietly.

“I’m not even sure I want to know,” Bill said.

“Oh, you’d be delighted, I’m sure. But, alas, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Ginny sighed.

“Then why even bring it up, you idiot?” you said as you sat down next to her, carefully eyeing a nervous looking Harry.

Bill followed your gaze and whistled lowly. You almost had a heart attack. “I see. That is very interesting.”

You turned to face your sister. “Look what you’ve done now. Why not just shout it from the rooftops?” you scolded.

“I didn’t say anything!” she defended.

“She’s right, you gave yourself away,” Bill confirmed, leaning in to whisper, “You’re lucky Ron’s pretty clueless on the floor over there.”

Your face burned. “Just don’t tell anybody.”

“Now why would I do that? It’s a whole lot more fun if you do it yourself.” Bill grinned, leaving you and Ginny at the table.

You dropped your head into your arms.

Later, you and Harry sat in the yard, leaning against a tree. You were on the side that couldn’t be seen from your siblings’ makeshift quidditch game across the yard.

It was the nicest day of break so far, not too cold, but not necessarily warm either. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, which delighted you.

You were lying in Harry’s lap, gazing up at him as he mindlessly played with your hair. “I can’t believe you told Ginny,” he said for the tenth time since breakfast.

You rolled your eyes and sat up. “I already told you, she was nagging me. Plus, I can’t really talk to Hermione about this sort of thing. She’s hung up on Ron. I keep telling her Lavender was just a phase because of some stupid love potion infused chocolate, but she usually just goes glum and ignores me.”

“You could just stop talking about us,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you said, reaching forward to fiddle with the zipper on his jacket.

“Why? Am I too charming and handsome for you to shut up about?” He grinned, taking hold of your hand and pressing it to his chest.

“Something like that.” You smiled, but quickly stopped when you saw the smug look on his face. “Don’t let that get to your head, Potter.”

“I won’t,” he said, leaning in to kiss your lips. His free hand came up to frame your face, and you placed yours on his thigh. You had half a mind to pull away, but only enough to see his face.

“Harry, we can’t do this out here. My siblings are right over there. Someone could see us,” you said softly, staring up at his bright green eyes.

“Honey, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m not gonna care,” he said, breath heavy as he looked at you adoringly. Your stomach did flips and you instantly forgot about reasons to hold yourself back.

You surged forward, kissing him hard on the mouth. You knew you wouldn’t get the chance to do so until well after dinner, so you took advantage of your siblings being distracted. He responded enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer.

“Woah, looks like I’ve caught more than just the snitch!”

You sprang apart, wiping your mouth as you looked up to see one of your grinning brothers, hovering above the tree on a broomstick holding a little golden sphere.

“Charlie! This isn’t what it looks like,” you managed, pushing yourself as far away from Harry as possible.

“Really, because it looks like you’ve been snogging his face off,” Charlie said, looking pleased with himself.

Harry burned bright red, refusing to make eye contact with either of you.

“Charlie, what’s taking you so long?” you heard Ron call from the other side of the yard.

“I’ll keep this a secret, but only because I love you, little sister. And because it’s funnier this way.” Charlie grinned again and turned on his broom to speed back to the group.

You and Harry left for the house before anyone else did, completely ignoring Hermione on the couch, her nose deep in a thick book, as you rushed upstairs.

Once you were sure you were alone, you stopped Harry in the middle of the hallway. “Okay, that was the last time. No more doing that in the open.”

“Sorry, got carried away. At least it wasn’t Ron who saw us.” Harry shuttered, not even wanting to think about what his reaction would be.

“Shake it off, Harry. Just three, only three of them know. There’s like a bajillion others that don’t,” you rationalized. “Look, we just need to get through this holiday without anyone else finding out that we’re together. I think we can do that.”

“You lied to mother?” A stiff voice came from down the hallway. Shit. You forgot Percy was still in the house, holed up in his room doing his Ministry work.

Harry’s eyes widened as he shook his head at you, refusing to turn around.

“You’re seeing someone and you lied about it?” Percy frowned. “Well, I’ll have to tell her.”

“No, you won’t have to tell her. Don’t tell her. Please,” you practically begged.

Percy didn’t look convinced. His steely gaze wouldn’t let up. “I won’t if you promise me to tell her.”

“I promise, Perce, just let me do it when I’m ready,” you said, less of a real promise and more of a strategy to get him to go back into his room. You were thanking God when he nodded curtly and did just that.

“Well, would you look at the impeccable timing on that,” Harry said sarcastically.

You grimaced. “Dinner’ll be a real treat tonight.”

Dinner was not a treat. It was delicious, of course, courtesy of your mother. But it was quite tense, at least for you and Harry.

Bill kept shooting you knowing glances from across the table, looking back and forth between you and Harry, who made the seemingly unconscious choice to sit beside you.

Charlie couldn’t even look at you without snickering to himself, prompting your mum to start questioning him on his odd behavior.

Percy was silently urging you to say something about it, pulling at his collar uncomfortably and staring at you, unrelenting.

Ginny was, thankfully, docile for the time being.

“Charlie, would you stop laughing at your sister? I don’t see what’s so funny about her,” Molly scolded, finally having quite enough of your brother’s behavior.

“Nothing’s funny,” he said with a hint of a smile.

Bill was looking at him with his eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you know?” he asked suspiciously.

“What do you know?” Charlie replied, just as skeptical.

“I think the better question is, what does dad know about muggles?” You laughed nervously, getting weird looks from Ron and the twins. “Come on, dad. Why don’t you tell us about your latest case?”

Your father looked up from his meal, looking surprised, for he had hardly been acknowledged since the start of dinner. “Oh, well, we had an odd couple in the other day. They were the sort who didn’t really look like they belonged together. So, anywho, they-“

“Hold on,” Ginny interjected. “How do you know they didn’t belong together? There are loads of couples who you might not think belong together, but actually do, so it’s best not to judge before you know the whole story.”

Your dad looked confused. “Um, I guess they just didn’t seem compatible, but I’m sure they belong together just fine, Gin, no need to worry about that.”

As he continued with his story about this couple and their illegally enchanted carpet, you turned to glare at Ginny.

She gave you a rather obvious look of annoyance, which gained the attention of Fred and George.

“Something’s going on here, Freddie,” said George, leaning to his right.

“Agreed,” said George, looking around the table.

You actually heard Harry gulp beside you. You put a hand on his knee, attempting to comfort him. This action made him choke on the sip of water he had taken.

“All right there, Harry?” Ron asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry coughed. “Just fine.”

Percy cleared his throat. “Maybe he has something to say.”

“Percy, don’t be rude,” your mother scolded. “The boy’s just choked.”

“Yeah, Percy, don’t know why you’d think he wants to say something,” Ginny said. “So, keep your mouth shut.”

None of the siblings who knew had known that others at the table were also aware, but they were each starting to connect the dots.

“Can I just have a nice Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” Molly slammed one hand on the table. “Enough of the fighting and the strange comments. Please, just be normal.”

Fred grinned. “I can’t imagine what’s abnormal about us.”

“Oh, me neither. But you, Freddie, are abnormal looking,” George followed.

The rest of the night after dinner was just as stressful. You and your siblings were sitting around the living room, with the exception of Percy, who, to your immense relief, had gone back to his room for work.

Fred and George decided it would be a good idea to play a game of truth or dare with the assistance of some veritaserum they nicked from Snape’s stores the day before holiday began.

Needless to say, you and Harry were not excited.

“Hermione,” Fred said. “Truth or dare?”

Hermione rolled her eyes as George made a gesture that suggested she should choose truth. “Dare,” she said.

“I dare you to go outside and kiss one of the gnomes.”

“A gnome, Fred? Really?” Ron scoffed.

“You’d rather she kissed you, would you?” George teased.

Ronsaid nothing, but his ears turned red, giving him away.

Hermione’s face turned a similar shade as she stood up from the armchair. “Fine, then.”

You all collectively gathered around the window and watched Hermione stalk outside and grab one of the ugly gnomes by its bald head. She made a disgusted face and gave the gnome a peck so fast that you barely saw it.

She came back inside and washed her mouth out in the sink before returning to the chair. “George,” she said coolly. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth, of course!” George said happily. “We’ve got to put our stolen goods to good use.”

“It was very wrong of you to take Professor Snape’s materials,” Hermione said, frowning. “Is it true that you were the ones who gave Ron amortentia spiked chocolates last month?”

“Yes,” George said easily.

Ron scoffed loudly. “You told me that wasn’t you! You said it was her! I was following Lavender Brown around for weeks because of those!”

“Well, we hadn’t meant for you to go for her. It was supposed to be someone else.” George winked at Hermione.

“We messed up the potion,” explained Fred.

George looked to you. “Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Truth,” you said mindlessly, thinking about Hermione and the gnome. You noticed the alarmed look Harry was giving you and realized your mistake. Damn gnome.

George grinned mischievously. “Do you really have a boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you said unwillingly.

A gasp from Ron could be heard from the other side of the room. Ginny and Hermione were looking rather nervous for you. On the contrary, Bill and Charlie were quite amused.

“Tell us, who is he?” Fred continued off of George.

“Harry Potter,” you admitted before slapping a hand across your mouth.

An even louder gasp could be heard from Ron that caused Charlie to burst out laughing. Fred and George were looking rather pleased with themselves. You supposed that was better than them pranking the life out of Harry for dating their sister, which you had expected to happen.

Harry sat on the couch with his hands clenched at his sides, looking at the floor as his whole face turned red.

“My sister, Harry? Really?” Ron said, his voice carrying a mixture of anger and betrayal.

“Yeah, well, I love her,” Harry said, fully dropping his head into his palms. He definitely hadn’t meant to say that to everyone in the room. “I hate this damn potion.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Freddie,” said George.

“It sure does, Georgie,” Fred said, clasping his hands together over his chest.

“Honestly, this is a Christmas miracle,” Hermione burst out. “I’ve been covering for you for months. Four, horrible, long months.”

“Four months?” Ron said, bewildered. “Hermione, you knew and you never told me?”

“Oh, please, Ronald. If you opened your eyes you would’ve seen what was going on,” Hermione said.

“Easy for you to say, you’re bloody brilliant. You could spot anything off. I love that about you,” Ron confessed.

Bill and Charlie were wheezing on the floor at this point.

“This is the gift that keeps on giving!” Fred exclaimed.

“I’m so happy we played this game,” George said through laughs.

Hermione stood, cheeks burning. “We should all go to bed. It’s Christmas tomorrow.” She went up the stairs quickly. Ron seemed to have forgotten all about you and Harry and followed her.

Your other four brothers slowly made their way upstairs, practically dying from laughter at your expense.

Ginny stood awkwardly, bidding you and Harry goodnight and leaving you alone in the room.

“That could’ve gone worse,” you said, finally making eye contact with Harry, who was still looking a little red.

“I, for one, didn’t fancy confessing my love for you to your whole family,” Harry said, scooting over to your spot on the couch.

“I did.” You grinned, leaning towards him. He rolled his eyes, but indulged you anyways, letting his lips touch yours.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” you whispered against him. “I love you, too.”

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #weasley!reader #harry james potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #brothers best friend

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satoruoo · 8 months

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COFFEE SHOP - g. satoru

"toru, honey, i think this is the seventh time we've walked past that tree."

your boyfriend of two years simply smiles, an innocent look on his face as he walks alongside you. there's a skip in his step - the kind that tells you he's got something up his sleeve.

the fallen leaves crunch satisfyingly underfoot, each one painted with individual hues of deep reds, burnt oranges, and bright yellows.

"really? i haven't noticed." he sings, looking rather happy with himself.

you huff a laugh into the chilly autumn air, deciding not to push the matter any further. satoru probably didn't know, but you already knew what he was doing; walking around in circles just to spend more time together.

it warms your heart, really. he'd been so excited this morning, insisting that you go on a date to the newest coffee shop that recently opened near your shared home. if you're being honest, you really want that coffee, but you'll be patient just for him.

satoru looks as happy as ever, a lopsided grin etched onto his beautiful features while he lightly swings your intertwined hands as you walk. the tips of his fingers are ice cold, but he barely feels it over the warm and fuzzy feeling that blooms in his chest.

he presses his face further into the material of his scarf - the one you gifted him last christmas - his already pink nose finding refuge in its fabric.

"we've passed that old lady a couple times too," you tease gently, "are you sure you know where you're going?"

satoru's smile grows ever larger as he shoves both yours and his hand into his trenchcoat pocket, squeezing it lovingly.

"'course i do, baby. we're almost there." he reassures, crystalline eyes looking down at you fondly.

you raise an eyebrow skeptically, bumping your hip against his (it's more of his thigh because he's so tall) causing him to stumble a little.

"whatever you say, sweets." you say.

he glares at you in mock offense, "no, i really do!"

"i know you do, toru. you've been taking the wrong turn purposefully for the past twenty minutes."

your boyfriend halts in his tracks, the tips of his ears turning pink from either the cold or the embarrassment of being caught. he groans, clearly upset about his plan being foiled.

"i would have taken us there eventually," satoru protests, "i just wasn't ready yet!"

you laugh, taking his hand again and pulling him in the direction of the shop. "there's no reason we can't walk with our coffee."

he groans again, louder this time, as he trails after you like a lost puppy. "there's no reason you had to see through my perfect plan!"

you roll your eyes, leaning into him to share body heat. though his extremities were always cold, the rest of satoru had become your personal furnace. he immediately shifts closer, as close as he can be while walking, eager to please.

"it was far from perfect babe," you retort. "who takes the same wrong turn seven times in a row?"

"it was not seven!" he objects immediately, pouting. it was seven, you had counted.

"sure, it wasn't," you respond dryly.

the bell of the cozy coffee shop chimes as you open the door. if it wasn't for your love of coffee, you may have let him have his way for just a little longer.

#♡. viascribbles #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo x you #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo drabbles #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x you

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sodamnradd · 11 days

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“I dare you to kiss Hermione,” said Ginny, grinning conspiratorially in her friend’s direction.

Hermione turned her attention to Malfoy, her stomach fluttering in anxious anticipation. But then she noticed the obvious discomfort on his face and her excitement fizzled. Weeks of studying together, late-night lab sessions—their prize-winning Potions project!—and he couldn’t even stomach the thought of one measly little kiss?

The common room fell silent when Malfoy didn’t budge. A dozen seventh and eighth-years sat around an empty Firewhisky bottle, its neck pointed in Malfoy’s direction like an accusation.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole.

Seconds later, Theo re-entered the room, donning a Slytherin jumper and a lumpy knit scarf, cheeks red after flying a lap around the castle starkers to fulfill his dare.

He looked around, confused. “What’s up?”

Hermione felt a sharp stab of betrayal seeing Theo in the scarf she’d knit Malfoy for Christmas. It wasn’t the cashmere or spider silk fabric he was used to, but Malfoy had seemed genuinely touched by the gesture, immediately replacing his Slytherin scarf with the one Hermione had made for him. In turn, Malfoy had tied his Slytherin scarf around her neck, stepping back to admire her with an affectionate look. The scarf had smelled like him, so naturally Hermione had kept it on all day. Even inside.

And now here was her gift, draped haphazardly around Theo’s neck like he’d grabbed the first thing he’d found on the floor to warm himself up. Message received.

Glaring daggers in Malfoy’s direction, Ginny replied coldly, “Nothing. Malfoy just thinks he’s too good to kiss Hermione on a dare.”

“Oh?” Theo eyed his best mate curiously.

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but then his gaze flicked down to Theo’s neck and whatever he’d wanted to say died on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

“I’ll kiss her.” Theo walked up to Hermione and cupped her cheeks. His hands were like slabs of ice, and she shivered, but then his lips, cold and hard, met hers and approximately five seconds later it was over and Hermione felt like crying.

The room seemed to heave a sigh of relief as Theo settled at the foot of Hermione’s armchair and spun the bottle again.

Hermione jumped off her seat and bolted for the dorms, not slowing even as footsteps followed her up the stairs.

“Granger, wait!”

“I just want to be alone right now,” she cried, nearly at her bedroom door.

A hand grabbed her arm.

She glanced down at his pale knuckles and the expanse of blond hair that disappeared beneath a bunched-up sleeve. She recalled the way he'd trembled when she’d traced the protruding veins of his forearm last week, waiting for their potion to boil. His gaze following her touch intricately.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked quickly.

She yanked her arm back, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m humiliated. You made it seem like I was diseased!”

He made a painstaking groan. “I just didn’t want to kiss you like that. In front of everyone.”

“Right. Heavens forbid they catch you snogging a Mudblood.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not that. Not at all.”

“What is it then?” She looked up, catching the familiar warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Even mid-argument they held that affectionate sparkle. Seeing her.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that—when I kiss you, I want you to know it’s because I’ve thought of nothing else for weeks.”

Her mind snagged on how he’d said ‘when’ and not ‘if’.

Smiling nervously, he touched her hand, stroking his thumb over the swell of her palm. Because of course, on top of his boyish good looks, astute ambition, and effortless sense of humour, the boy had to be sentimental, too. Gods.

He tugged her forward until their legs touched, eyes never leaving her face.

Heart hammering against her ribcage, Hermione lifted her head as Draco descended.

The next morning, he was waiting for her at the foot of the dormitory stairs. His scarf twisted delicately around his neck and tucked into his coat. When she reached the last step, he captured her chin between his fingers and kissed her with breathtaking confidence.

A stunned silence filled the common room as everyone watched Hermione and Draco leave together, their hands firmly intertwined.

(736 words, loosely inspired by a scene from 'Every Summer After' by Carley Fortune)

p.s. hi i missed writing dramione ficlets so here we are.

#dramione drabble #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #sodamnrad #sodamnraddrabbles #dhr

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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

Text

— CELEBRATION DAY

SUMMARY : cowboy Dean, that’s it! yeah, yeah, I’ve got a thing.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), blowjob (mentioned), handjob, unprotected p in v, angst, fluff

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. omg, I wanna thank my big brothers for watching Supernatural when I was little. I never woulda met Dean’s gorgeous, galaxy freckled face, green-eyed sparkle sparkle, majestic body, honey hair, smirky, pillow lip prince—what was I saying? oh yeah, I love Dean, happy birthday to the man I’ve loved the longest 💗

Dean didn’t think the whole month of January could get any better.

Everyday Y/n left a gift for him somewhere around the bunker for him to find. It was like the Twelve Days of Christmas song, but so much better.

He was really pretty sure she was stealing most of them.

On the first day, a pin up style calendar, but instead of random women, it was her and all his favourite kinks and fetishes. If he could, he’d say he loved her in every language that exists. It’s the only way for him to show that he truly means it. At least he thinks so.

On the second day, he received seven different types of necklaces that she thought he’d look prettiest in, but one stood out. One that he’d offhandedly shown interest in when they were window shopping to walk off the effects of caffeine in her system. The love letter smelled of coffee and recounted the feelings she had watching him be so domestic.

On the third day, she gave him a Street Fighter arcade game perfect for his Dean Cave. He swore he’d beat her, but he didn’t have the heart to do so, and let her KO him (she already knew what he was doing).

On the fourth day, she got him a new, stainless steel watch. She attached a small love letter addressed to him, the last words were spoken by the Doctor: You waited long enough. Time and time again, with her by his side, he yearned for normalcy, a family, getting out. For some reason, an object that measured time symbolised their endless love, a promise that made him breathless.

On the fifth day, he was given seven different rings. The letter for this gift said something along the lines of: I need to practise proposing. And you didn’t say no, so this is going great. He chuckled at that. He’d never say no to her, especially not to marriage.

On the sixth, she gave him a porn magazine, starring : her. He found it in the library when she sent him to pick up a book for her. A magazine like one belonging to Playboy that drove him crazy every day that he remembered what was in it. And that tiny love letter she put inside… He hoped no one would put their hands on that one. It was for his eyes only.

On the seventh, a black 1962 corvette that she put together with the help of her older brother. To say Dean was impressed was an understatement, despite all those times he taught her how to put the Impala back together, he was both turned on and fascinated with her work. And obviously they, uh, christened it. Or whatever.

On the eighth, she surprised him with twelve books he’d intended to read for such a long time, but never got around to searching for them. Shane; Whiskey When We’re Dry; Lonesome Dove; Blood Meridian. Were some of the titles he recognised and he was more than thrilled to dive into them and relax completely as reality faded around him.

On the ninth, she gifted him a new cowboy outfit. She put that in the room where he kept all the costumes he wore. The material was more original, with amazing quality—aka, not cheap. A whole bunch of Hecho en Mexico tags that he’d ask her to read to him—in Spanish of course. For reasons. (And that love letter he found in the inner pocket also needed to be read in Spanish, too.)

On the tenth, he got to open a giant box of Scooby snacks. Here and there, there were a few of his other favourite snacks, but there were mostly Scooby snacks that he’d been munching on ever since.

The eleventh, the gift he received were seven different bracelets. According to the love letter, they were gifts to keep him bound to her only.

The twelfth, a brand new espresso machine. That was simply found by him in the kitchen, new, with an olive-green bow and a small lover letter. All that yummy coffee he gets to consume in the morning with her, trying it out together. Two coffee addicts in love. Nothing better.

The thirteenth, the gift was going to an amuent park together. They ate too many foods, went on all—if not most—of the rides, took a hundred photos, tried on the silly clothes, played the games—mini-golf, go-carts… He was exhausted as soon as they got inside the Impala. So, it was a last minute decision to stay at a nearby hotel for the night. It was the best sleep he had in ages.

The fourteenth, a large journal in multitudes of journaling styles detailing things she loved about him that particular day or something he did that made her smile. It was cheesy, but very beautiful. The care and attention to detail made Dean’s heart lurch in his chest. From the cute bullet journal style, to the more than accurate drawings of him, and sophisticated details about things he didn’t know about himself, his habits, or other things he did. It was a collection of her love for him, which somehow made any fears evaporate like steam in a shower.

The fifteenth, forty-five new sets of socks with cute and/or funny prints. And she was prepared with a new drawer for all of them to fit, rolled up perfectly like… well, whatever delicious meal she had planned just as he liked. Enchiladas. Yummy. And a new love letter shoved inside a sock to make him blush and smile boyishly.

For the sixteenth day, it was four cassette mixtapes of all the songs they listened to when they went on some of their most meaningful dates and that played in the most memorable, intimate moments of their lives. Now it made sense why she was thrilled to learn and watch him prepare the mixtape he made for Cas. (It was better afterwards when his skills and patience were more than noticed by her and she—anyway, it was hot sex.) As for the love letter, it was profoundly clear that she wanted to praise and show she recognised his expertise, intelligence, and skill (not that she hasn’t praised him for it before).

For the seventeenth day, he got a Katana. He didn’t need it, he didn’t even know he wanted it until he held it in his hands and unsheathed it. God, that was awesome. Of course he’d probably almost accidentally hurt himself playing around with it, using it unnecessarily in the kitchen—just as an example.

For the eighteenth day, a sex position book with over 300 sex positions to try. It almost offended him, but after looking through a few pages, he was convinced that she was right and they needed to try some of the kinkier positions.

For the nineteenth day, she handed him a lengthy collection of mint condition Batman comic books. He was so not cool about that, gushing and grinning, holding her tightly until she pushed him away to breathe properly.

For the twentieth day, he received some new vinyl records of his favourite songs from his favourite bands to nearly complete his collection of music. And as always, he found a love letter relating to the gift she gave to him where she’d ‘hid’ the vinyls above his desk.

For the twenty-first: an old photo album filled with photos he’d never seen from his childhood and up to last year. Some he never even remembered living, but they did skip a few memories that made him smile sadly. She confessed she got Cas to take her back into the past to sneakily take pictures of him and everything he lived through. It was oddly… endearing. Then, she gave him an empty photo album, only their New Year’s kiss was placed inside a protective, plastic pocket. Ready to be filled by him, this time around.

For the twenty-second, a custom made Batman costume. The story for this one was that she made a deal with one of Charlie’s old LARPing friends: if she got rid of a ghost in his house, he’d make her the costume. And after that, she got one of the Dean’s from another universe to act as the model for the measurements Charlie’s old friend took to make the costume fit him perfectly. There were a few ideas Dean had regarding that costume, and he’s more than a hundred percent sure Y/n’s been thinking the same thing ever since he tried it on.

For the twenty-third, a twelve month pie subscription, obviously on National Pie Day. And he got to try the first one that day, rhubarb pie that made his mouth water as soon as the sticky insides made contact with his taste buds. How many times does he have to say he’s lucky in his mind?

And today, he had yet to find out.

He was spoiled.

Lavishing in her love for the past twenty-four days—more so than usual, soaking in it like the waffles he drowned in syrup for breakfast in the morning.

Right after his birthday blowjob as soon as he woke up.

He ate those soft, perfectly crunchy, warm waffles in bed while basking in the golden afterglow of his orgasm. Breathless and dazed, he didn’t worry about a single thing as he moved from one waffle to the next, eating his favourite fruits, jams, chocolate chips, maple syrup, honey… all the things she knew he loved indecisively.

And while she licked her lips clean of his cum, he licked his lips clean of whipped cream.

God, he was lucky.

She was awesome. More than awesome.

There were no words he could find to describe her.

The only problem with today was that he wasn’t gonna be the centre of just her attention. He could deal with that. He loved it, in fact. What he did not love was having to be the centre of attention with all his friends and family around.

He just felt… maybe… shy. Embarrassed? Old?

He wasn’t used to it. Not to that kind of attention from his friends, anyway. As much as they loved him and as much as he loved them. It was different. New.

He was anxious about it.

It was usually a phone call, a text, or nothing. He was fine with that. He didn’t really care. He was always hunting before. They were always busy with their hunts or their lives and birthday were always… whatever.

He was used to Y/n. To the way she loved him. Worshipped him, even. Daily. It was almost the same as any other day, except for the gifts—which were grand, more… thoughtful and loving. As if she lived in his brain and heart, digging through his wishes and dreams to find the perfect gift to make him feel special. Something that lasted, something to be used, something to be loved by him.

He was used to Sam. To the occasional, remorseless thieving of his little brother to get him what he thought he’d like. The singular, impactful gifts or the silly-joke gift he gave first to trick him into thinking it was something meaningless, thoughtless. The pat in the back, the hug, the pie, the childish decoration, the alcohol… a typical sibling birthday party meant to be laughed at.

He was getting used to Cas. To the overuse of emoticons in the birthday text. The awkwardness in the hug before it settled and became comfortable to do. The thoughtful gift he recieved, something Dean mentioned whenever they hung out—even if it was ridiculous. Cas could get it. He’s an angel. And the best friend Dean could ever ask for.

Jack… was, well, he’s Jack. He tried to copy Cas, Sam, Y/n. A mixture of all of the things they did, taking notes of what they were up to, finding something that was… him and not all of them. Dean’s heart softened and he cut Jack some slack, appreciating the effort, the thought he put into it, even if sometimes it was… bad.

But now, some of his closest friends would be making their way to him and he was just not prepared for all of that.

What he was prepared for, was his girlfriend’s skillful ability to make a larger-than-necessary Rice Krispies Treat cake just for him. She liked it as much as he did now, replacing the traditional birthday cake—she wasn’t much of a cake fan. But his stomach’s heart did love those tres-leches cakes.

Dean got dressed up as a cowboy as soon as Sam left to help Eileen prepare for the mini birthday party. He knew it did things to Y/n, even if she refused to admit it to him every time he brought it up or teased her about it.

He tried to cling to her the whole day.

He failed.

She was up to secret stuff.

He only got to be in her presence when she cooked or as she decorated the library where they’d later be embarrassing him with their loving attention. He helped her with all of that, of course—despite her protests. He’d hold her for a few minutes, kiss her a little bit, and then he’d follow behind her as if he couldn’t find anything better to do himself.

He watched her pull out game after game, after game, and set it down on different tables. Cards Against Humanity. Loteria. UNO. Bingo. A few other classics, some from his childhood. And she was texting Sam the whole time for the location of each game, where to set it, agreeing on some and putting others away.

Dean didn’t mind. As long as there was something that took most of the attention away from him and towards something else.

He played with the die from one of the games as he followed her around. His eyes traced over colourful candles, little horns to blow funny sounds out of, balloons, string, paper, confetti, banners, funny hats and glasses, and a dozen other items and decorations that made him feel like a kid again.

Dean liked to watch her, and she liked watching his reaction to whatever she pulled out of the plastic bags he remembered watching Sam and Jack coming in with a few days ago.

Dean was happy once she was done and finally resting from all the planning and tasks she was completing. She’d play with the buttons on his suit jacket by buttoning and unbuttoning them boredly as she took a break before heading off to the next activity.

After she made the cake, she made extra for both of them to snack on—even though she’d also given him a piece before she prepared the Rice Krispies treat. The two of them waited for their friends to get to the Bunker and ate the small slice while watching a random movie on the television.

Dean started to wonder what his brother would be getting him. Or Cas. Jack. Claire. Jody. Donna. Oh. He wanted to be sucked up into the couch, no, into Y/n’s soul. Just the thought of receiving a gift from everyone other than the people who currently lived in the Bunker made him flustered and embarrassed.

He had no doubts the gifts would be good. Still, there was something about gifts and birthday parties that made him… uncomfortable. As much as he loved each and every single one of them, as much as he secretly adored being loved.. it felt like asking too much, even if this was all their idea.

Even though he would do this and so much more for them.

Dean didn’t know they were up to this until last week when Sam randomly brought it up. Y/n jumped on board immediately, then Jack did, and Cas. Jack and Cas were in charge of buying the snacks, which Dean appreciated because Sam tended to get distracted and would forget to buy some of the most important items—according to Dean, of course. The pie, being the main item.

Dean realised that neither he nor she were really paying attention to the movie. Their plates laid abandoned on the table next to the green leather couch they sat on. The cowboy hat was abandoned on Dean’s bed. She was tucked into the corner with one leg propped up in it with the other dangling over the edge. Dean settled on his back in between her legs with his head on her shoulder.

That was just the first step in seducing her.

He wondered if he’d get more lottery tickets from everyone. If they’d bring some of the funniest, endearing birthday cards where they had to change the main title to for his age because he had the taste of a kid. He hoped they wouldn’t do something illegal like he knew Y/n and Sam were doing to make this the best birthday party for him. (Though, Dean was generally feeling pretty smug about their naughtiness.)

He wouldn’t mind repeated gifts at all, as in… if Claire wanted to go mini-golfing with him and gave him another ticket… or if Jack simply wanted to try fishing with him again. He’d love that. To spend time with them. The people he cared most about.

He played with her slim fingers, traced her knuckles, and teased the soft skin of her arms with his fingertips when she slipped them around his waist. He lifted her hands up to his lips, worshipping one thoroughly with his lips, warming them up for her.

Her other hand rested over his chest where his heart was beating rapidly at the thought of what he wanted. Her hand laid still for a few seconds before she began to play with the buttons of his white dress shirt, then tapped her mossy-green nails against the ovaloid metal buckle of his belt.

He dropped her hand gingerly to let her play with his clothes using both of her hands and he took to tracing her legs with his fingers over thick, warm pyjamas. He could feel her body release the tension of her stress, and for a moment, he smiled softly and felt his body do the same thing.

When he turned to look at her, she glanced away from his chest where she was gently scratching his shirt to make the funny sound of cloth being scraped. He kissed her when she smiled at him, one small peck, not entirely innocent.

The movie was long forgotten soon after that. Not that they were paying attention to it before anyway.

Dean scooted up slightly to kiss her properly with one hand on her jaw, his fingers entwined through her soft hair, bringing her plush lips closer to his. It was unhurried, lazy, the slow build from firm, deep kisses, to demanding, heated ones that caused a blush to flare up their faces.

Breathlessly, she began unbuttoning his shirt while he unbuckled his belt, but they continued kissing. His tongue slipped between her sweet lips, tasting more sweetness from the marshmallow and rice treat they ate not long ago.

She brought the white t-shirt up his chest—excruciatingly slow—when she fully unbuttoned his dress shirt. Her fingertips slipped up the soft flesh of his tummy, his toned and freckled chest, then she flattened her palm over his rapidly thudding heart. Leisurely, she smoothed her hand down his soft, slightly scarred skin, brushing past the fine, blonde hair trailing down beneath his belly button.

Dean moaned into her mouth and impatiently lifted his hips from the couch. She snuck her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and curled her fingers around the base of his hardening length. Dean gasped against her kiss-swollen lips and closed his eyes tightly, promptly rolling his hips to push his cock through her fingers.

“You look so hot like this,” she whispered against the corner of his lips. Dean squirmed and spread his legs when he planted his feet flat on the floor to aid each of his thrusts. Gently, she placed her other hand around his neck to tip his head back and to the side to place a feverish kiss to his cracked, pillowy lips.

She continued moving her hand along his length, from root to tip, playing with the precum that began to accumulate and stain the cotton of his underwear.

Dean’s chest rose and fell quickly with each breath, attempting to hold off his orgasm. His thighs tensed, muscles constricting beneath thin dress pants as she twisted her hand up and down his cock inside his slacks and boxers. His lips moved desperately against hers and he swiped his tongue across hers, his brows furrowed in mind-numbing pleasure.

Dean’s fingers dug into her thighs on either side of his body, trying to keep himself stable as his hips bucked up into her hand, driving his cock faster through her fingers. Her hand squeezed at the sides of his neck and released to make his brain fuzzier, neurons hazed with lust and need.

“Please… I wanna be inside you, baby,” Dean panted against her lips as she kissed him. Instead, she rapidly continued to tug at his cock, her fist wrapped tightly around him until he felt like exploding. “I can’t- please- I need you,” he begged, but never dared to stop her as her lips trailed away to his jawline, to suck a dark mark on the sensitive skin of his neck.

She suddenly loosened her grip on his cock and slowly slid her slick palm up the front of his body. His orgasm began to fade away and his body slumped against hers, his chests heaving with each breath, his heart racing. Her lips brushed against his earlobe, “you’re right…” she murmured.

“A-about what?” He mumbled, lifting himself up to turn and face her. She was smiling at him when he gazed at her, her eyes soft and full of love, mirroring the much more dishevelled expression on his own, pink face.

Her eyes flickered away from his dewy green eyes when he leaned into her. He watched them travel up his body, from his thigh pressing into the leather next to her leg, to his boxers shoved low on his hips, exposing curly, light brown hair, his unzipped slacks and therather belt hanging losing around his hips, up to the opened dress shirt and t-shirt beneath draped haphazardly over his chest, and then her eyes stopped at his mouth.

She tilted her head and met him the rest of the way to press her lips against his, placing a soft, adoring peck. “I do think cowboys are fucking hot, especially you,” she smirked, scratching gently at the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny hairs behind his head.

Dean bit his lip, mirroring her expression, and hummed, “is that right?” She nodded, her other hand slipping down to tease the waistband of his boxers. Dean’s calloused hands travelled up her sides, sneaking beneath her long-sleeved shirt, up warm, soft skin. “I already knew, just wanted to hear you say it.”

She laughed shortly, allowing Dean to lift her thick shirt up and off her body. Dean’s lips came down to her neck, hot and open-mouthed kisses flushing her skin. His hands traced her sides and eventually hooked at the top of her leggings to pull down the material covering her legs. He carefully let her lay down as she shifted to fully remove her leggings and underwear.

But she sat upright once more before Dean could settle between her warm legs. Dean remained fully clothed and he laughed against her breasts when she impatiently shoved his slacks and boxers lower. His hands remained firmly on her body, exploring inches of familiar skin—squeezing, pulling, and holding.

His soft lips moved over the expanse of her chest, teeth nibbling on sensitive flesh, his wet tongue tasting her velvety skin. Her hands made their way down past his cock to cup his balls, which made Dean’s brow rise in pleasant surprise, his mouth freezing around her nipple.

He moaned around her skin and brought his own hand down between her legs as his cock bobbed excitedly. Warm slick coated his fingertips when he slid his fingers through her folds. With a pleased hum, she reached back to grip the wooden handle of the couch, and gently pressed her palm against his balls.

He played with her clit, coating it in her arousal, then buried his middle finger inside her. She bit her lip and arched her back, a jolt from his thumb pressing into her clit causing her to moan. She removed her hand from between his legs—much to his disappointment—to dig her nails into his taut thigh.

Dean dragged his tongue across her chest to attend to her other breast and dipped a second finger into her. Her pussy fluttered around his scissoring fingers, she whispered his name, moving her legs over his hips in a more comfortable position. Her hand slid up to bunch up in his shirt as her thighs twitched, screwing her eyes shut as the pleasure dazed her.

Her shift in position brought her centre closer to him and he pushed a third finger into her, working her open thoroughly, expertly. Her wetness drenched his thick fingers, making every push and pull swift and easy. They curled inside her, rubbing delectably at her g-spot, pressing delightfully into the most sensitive parts of her walls. Her toes curled and she lifted herself up higher in his lap, implicitly urging him to skip to the fucking.

Dean instantly did as she wordlessly requested and pulled his glistening fingers out of her warmth. He stroked his cock a few times, first, watching her watch him coat himself in her excitement. He looked back down between their flushed bodies when he began moving his cock through her dewy folds, moaning contentedly at the sensation of her against him.

She unclenched her hand from his shirt to bring up behind his neck, her delicate fingers slipping between short hairs. Finally, Dean pushed himself into her deliberately, then out gradually. Over and over they created a rhythm.

With one foot on the floor and his knee pressing into the backrest, his hands gripping her hips tightly. His lips connected to any part of her he could reach, moaning and gasping softly against her skin with every clench of her pussy, every measured thrust to feel every inch of her slide across his cock.

Her arm flexed behind her as she moved with Dean, her fingers gripping the wooden arm of the couch tightly, timing each roll of her hips with his. Occasionally, she met every one of his thrust and brought his face closer to her with her fingers curled around the back of his neck.

His breath dampened her already steamy skin and his hands started to wander lovingly over her shiny body, feeling the exertion of her muscles beneath his calloused palms.

Gradually, they began to move faster against each other.

Dean’s body built up more heat with the clothes still covering every inch of him. His mouth went dry with every open-mouthed breath and he searched for her lips as a tingle ran up his spine, his stomach clenching to foreshadow his impending orgasm.

He felt her breath against his lips and her fingers moved deeper into his hair, tugging so his mouth fell open. Her lips moved over his, her wet tongue bringing moisture back into his mouth, and over his chapped lips. Dean kissed her back with so much more force, easing his tongue into her mouth when she pulled hers out to smirk into the kiss.

He squeezed her ass, painfully pressing his fingers into her back, desperately trying to feel her against his body. He fucked into her briskly, with strong thrusts that pressed his cock deeper into her channel until she squirmed from how good it was. He swallowed her pleased groan and brought her closer with his arm around her waist and his palm flat against her back.

Dean’s thrust became erratic, every slam of his hips and every roll of hers made contact with her clit, bringing her close to the edge with him. Every touch of each other’s bodies, every hot and lewd kiss, every heavy and fast breath, every breathless and pleasured sound, every wet and hot sensation built up like volatile chemicals.

With a few final thrusts, Dean came with a groan of her name by her ear. She squeezed his cock tightly and cursed at the sensation of his hot cum coating her insides. Her thighs pressed into his hips as she orgasmed with a sharp gasp, clinging to him as they rode out their climax.

Dean ground his hips up into her, keeping himself deep inside her as she shook and held him in a tight embrace. Their lips met once more for a softer, more elated kiss as they became blanketed in the afterglow of their release. She released the wooden arm of the couch to cup Dean’s scruffy jaw and Dean’s arms circled around her waist.

He moved backwards carefully and laid her down onto her back, allowing her to fully wrap her legs around his waist. Dean shoved his suit jacket and dress shirt off as they kissed. She smiled against his mouth and let him pull away fully from her lips to watch him throw both items onto his bed.

“It was cold before, but it’s hot now,” he muttered, pulling his t-shirt up over his head by the back of the neck. She giggled and brought her hands to his ass, moving his pants and underwear lower, past his thighs.

“Well…” she trailed off, gazing at him as he slowly pulled his cock out of her. “Hey,” she pouted, moving his attention away from the mess between her legs and the mixture of their spendings leaked out of her.

“Uh, yeah?” He grinned, moving off the couch to kick off the cowboy boots, and everything else so he was fully naked before her.

“Your last gift,” she started, looking over to the bed. Before returning to his spot between her legs, Dean followed her eyes and lifted a brow. “It’s under your pillow,” she smiled shyly, looking up at him as his lips parted and then made an ‘o’.

“Awesome,” he murmured, making his way to his side of the bed. He searched underneath with a swipe of his hands beneath the cool pillow and grabbed the small, somewhat heavy box decorated with pink wrapping paper and a silver bow. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it curiously.

She laughed at him, taking the unused napkin from the table to clean herself up, which distracted Dean from his gift. He was about to protest, offering to clean her up, but she laughed. He pouted at her, but settled back in her arms in the same position as before once she finished.

“I really… really hope you like this one,” she whispered against his shoulder. Dean looked back at her and smiled softly—his eyes reassuring her that he’d like anything that came from her. He carefully pulled at one end of the bow to watch it fall apart into a straight line.

He ripped the paper to reveal a wooden box. Dean imagined a necklace, if the thud against the soft cushion inside the box revealed anything about what it actually was.

A ring? He planned on proposing, but he’d say yes if she turned the tables. He smiled at the thought, but he doubted that they were stepped enough into a normal life for that. If it were up to him, he’d have asked her to marry him ages ago.

He opened the box slowly and blinked at the steel key.

“A… key?” He asked out loud, turning his body to look at her as she waited for his reaction anxiously.

“I… bought a house?” She squeaked, her cheeks turning dark. Dean’s lips parted. He wanted to question her, to make a comment about what the place looked like or where it was or how much it cost, to say anything, but his throat tightened and clogged any words from escaping. With his tongue heavy in his mouth, there was no hope to ease her anxiety. He shut it instead. “For you- us. You and me…” she rambled, wrapping her hand around his to shut the box as if it were Pandora’s box—unleashing her deepest fears, but worst of all, her hope.

“I…” Dean trailed off, staring at the wooden exterior of the square container. A little box that would give him the future he’s secretly always yearned for with her. He was too much of a coward to ever do anything and go for it. Her hand moved away from his and she shifted behind him awkwardly, pushing him off her so he’d face her instead.

“You don’t…” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “It’s okay, if you don’t want… this…” She snatched the gift away from him as if she’d show him her deepest secret and had been judged for revealing what it was.

“No! I-I do want this,” Dean reassured her and quickly took it back to open it, and remove the key from inside. He placed it on his palm, cold, small, and light against his sweaty skin. “I just…” His eyes flickered up to hers, the guarded and nearly stony expression on her face twisting his stomach in regret. “I love you,” he breathed, pressing his lips against the corner of her lips.

“Are you sure?” She bit her lip, her eyes dancing over his face to gauge any emotion or shift that would hint to reveal he was truly feeling. “I don’t want you to be unhappy… if you don’t want this, it’s okay. You can tell me. I have a backup gift anyway,” she shrugged casually, moving to sit on her legs next to him.

She gazed at the side of his face as he continued to make her heart plummet with the long stare at the key in his hand.

“Why?” He asked with knitted brows, looking at her. He could tell she felt much more bare and vulnerable as she crossed her arms over his chest and kept herself covered with her own body.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to give it to you just yet,” she admitted. Dean frowned. “But after today… the way you followed me around and helped me.. I changed my mind,” she shrugged again, “but it’s okay if we both want something different, if you’re not ready… you know I’d wait…” She smiled nervously, so it didn’t last, and her mouth returned to a straight line.

“No more waiting, baby.” Dean shook his head and put the key back into the box, leaving it beside him to take her hands. He lifted them both up to his lips, staring into her eyes to demonstrate his earnestness, “you waited long enough.”

“I promise you that I’m ready,” he reassured her, brushing his thumbs against her knuckles. “This gift… it means so much to me. I do, truly, love you.” Dean tugged her hands and she finally laughed, allowing herself to be happy with him. In this moment. And forever. No more waiting.

As he held her, Dean pictured the future they could have together and let his body rest without fear of everything else going on. For once, he’d let himself be happy. It was the one way he could let go of Sam, allowing both himself and his baby brother a shot at a normal life, something Dean wanted for himself and Sam for so long. This was the first step to freedom.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” she whispered against his forehead, kissing the tiny scar that resided there.

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imagine-that-100 · 5 months

Text

Will We Talk? | Part 4 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 18.2k

A/N: It's finally here oh my lord. Once again so sorry my writing takes so long these days but I'm so excited about this chapter. Thank you for the suggestions I got after I dropped the teaser, really appreciate all the help and it got my mind back into writing mode again. After this there's only one part left, but its going to be fun so don't fret. Really hope you enjoy this part, please let me know what you think. Thank you so so much for reading. Enjoy x

| My Masterlist |

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

The run up to Christmas was fun. Fucking Alex every other day of the week had been a surprisingly needed stress relief that a month ago you would have never foreseen. Usually the run up to Christmas had you stressed for no reason in particular but this year with your stresses finally being relieved every other night it was so much better than other Christmas breaks you’ve had in a long time.

Alex had certainly been making the most of your arrangement. It was him texting or calling you asking, “Are you free tonight?” Which may as well be directly translated to ‘Do you want to fuck me tonight?’. Every single time you said yes, not depriving yourself of such simple pleasures and it led to you having a very relaxed holiday season.

And now Christmas is over and done with, you were excited for tonight’s New Year’s party. So much so that you couldn’t sit at home and just wait to get ready, you ended up texting Katie and asking her if you could help her set up and thankfully she said yes.

For the past hour you’ve been listening to music and hearing the Cook's Christmas stories of Forest getting all excited when he opened each present. She showed you a couple of videos before Jamie took the little man out for the afternoon while you both got the house ready for tonight.

Your catch ups are the best and you adore your best friend so much. The gossiping and the giggling never ceases and you’re forever finding new things to talk about, it’s a miracle you’ve not discovered everything there is to know about each other after a decade of being best friends.

But it turns out there are some things you are yet to discover. Like a certain holiday that was being planned.

“You’re coming on the impromptu trip away with us, right?” Katie asks, a little out of the blue as if she’s just remembering as she unpeels the Happy New Year banners from each other and handing one to you.

“Depends, when?” You tell her, knowing the dates of this trip will be the deal breaker if you can go, “I’m back in work on the ninth, remember?”

You’ve joined the Cooks on impromptu trips away before, both with their family and their friends. You’re always invited, which you find thoughtful of Katie and knowing that these trips tend to be very random, you’d started saving money for such events so you didn’t find yourself missing out. The only time you denied yourself was when the trips clashed with work which you hope isn’t the case this time.

“Oh, we come back on the seventh.” Katie grins, very pleased with what you’ve just said, “You’re coming.”

“Yeah,” You find yourself giggling at her, knowing she probably wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway. You continue putting up the party decorations as you tell her, “Just let me know how much it is and I’ll scramble it together.”

“Oh no, Alex is paying for us all,” She tells you, as she seems to be having a hard time stretching the balloons out to start blowing them up, “You just need spending money.”

You immediately frown hearing that, bluetacking the banner on the wall and turning towards your best friend to ask, “What?”

“Alex is paying.” She tells you, “It’s for his birthday. Has he not told you about it yet?”

“No, he’s not mentioned it.” You tell her.

You figure it’s best to neglect mentioning how the singer only talks to ask how you are before he ends up saying the filthiest things into your ear as he fucks you senseless. Holidays and other things normal friends would talk about are not on the cards.

He comes over. You fuck. He leaves. Interaction complete.

“Oh well, he probably expected me to ask you.” Katie shrugs, not thinking much of it, “But yeah don’t worry about the money, he’s paying.”

You’ll see about that, you think as you continue helping your best friend decorate, putting the singer out of your head for the time being.

~*~*~*~

I need to speak to you

You text the singer as you’re walking home from Katie’s. You thought about just leaving it but you know if you keep what you're feeling bottled in it will just make you go back into your shell when you’re around him, and that’s the last thing either of you want.

Thankfully those thoughts don’t have enough time to fester because about 2 minutes later Alex texts you back.

Christ

Am I in trouble? x

His response makes you roll your eyes as you can practically hear him asking you. You know for a fact he will have snorted when he got the message through and when he typed that one back to you. So you keep him in limbo for a bit.

You’re not funny

Phone me when you’re free.

Thankfully you’re not waiting for ages for the call. Your phone starts ringing as you turn the corner and head down your road. It’s a little embarrassing how excited you are to get back in your house for a bit and just relax until the party later.

After greeting him, Alex gets straight to the point, “What’s up Y/N?”

“About this holiday,” You start, “Katie told me she wants me to come and I want to know how you feel about that before I start to spiral.”

You can already sense the panic in your chest as you feel like you’re at a bit of a stalemate. You don’t want to let Katie down but you’re also definitely not going to go if Alex wants a break from you. You don’t want to intrude on his holiday. Especially one that’s for his birthday.

“Don’t spiral.” Alex begs, and you swear he’s also outside as you can almost hear the way he takes a drag of a cigarette before he says, “The last thing we need is you spiralling and questioning everything again.”

You can picture the smile tugging at his lips as he says that. So much so that him finding your panic amusing means that you silently want to scorn him.

“I’m well aware of that.” You say a little bit too bluntly, so you attempt to soften the blow when you follow up with a rhetorical, “Why do you think I asked you to call me?”

Alex definitely mutes a laugh, covering it by him pretending to clear his throat. To make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble he distracts you by asking, “What’s panicking you now?”

“The holiday.” You take a deep breath before you start to vent your worries, “Apparently it’s for your birthday, I don’t know if you want me there with what’s going on with us. The fact that you’re apparently paying... I don’t want you paying for me if I come.”

“I did tell Katie to invite you if she wanted to.” Alex reveals.

“That’s not the point. Do you want me there?” You ask him directly, “I don’t want to intrude on a holiday that’s for your birthday.”

Alex takes a second to answer that, not because it’s a difficult answer but mostly because he wants to know, “If we weren’t sleeping together would you come?”

You think about it for a second and realise that you probably would, but not without speaking to him and asking Katie at least 30 times if you were actually welcome. Not to mention trying not to interact with him much when you were out there. And you certainly would not be allowing him to pay for you.

“I still would have double checked with you first, or got Katie to. But that doesn’t matter, it’s different now,” You start talking about your reality again, “The dynamic has changed.”

“Y/N, we were friends anyway,” Alex sighs and you’re glad he can’t see the way your face contorted in disagreement. “The only thing that’s different this time is that we’ve seen each other naked.”

You almost scoff.

You’ve done a lot more than see me naked, sir.

Feeling flustered at the memories of him fucking you flooding back to your mind, you just get back to the point, “So, do you want me there or not?”

And you listen to his response as you unlock your front door and get into your house. Feeling the absence of the chill from outside makes the singers answer all the more bearable.

“I just want you to do whatever you want to. You can come and have a holiday. I don’t expect anything from you if that’s what you’re worried about.” Alex says sincerely, before adding, “And I am paying.”

“I don’t want you to pay Alex,” You whine like a child not getting their own way. But you add honestly, “It makes me uncomfortable.”

And it’s not even just because you’re fucking him, although that is your main concern. It’s the fact that you’ve barely known him properly before now (and you still wouldn’t say you were all that close in any way but physically), you can’t in your right mind let him spend thousands on a skiing holiday for you.

“Y/N, I didn’t invite you to make you feel uncomfortable.” The singer sighs, feeling like you should know this already.

He’s not ever excluded you from something before and he’s certainly not about to start doing so now. And he’s not letting you pay for yourself when everyone else who is coming is paid for already. Christ, he doesn’t really know why this is even a conversation when everything has already been sorted and paid for in advance.

You feel like you’re whining when you again admit, “I know that’s not the intention but I still feel it Alex.”

“Well, it’s up to you.” Alex shrugs, hoping to convey how much he’s unbothered by the fact he’s paying for a holiday, but he doesn’t want to pressure you. “You’re very welcome to come and I’m paying for everyone, not just you.”

“But-“ You start but then stop yourself.

Alex immediately questions, “But what?”

He would rather know what’s going on in your head rather than be left guessing. He needs to know how best to reassure you otherwise you both will just regress. And he doesn’t think that wanting for your honesty is too much to ask.

You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you just leave him with silence.

But that silence speaks volumes.

“You worried that if I pay for you to come I’m expecting you to shag me?” A few beats of silence pass and as you don’t dismiss him entirely, he already knows it to be true. His question is entirely rhetorical, “That’s it, isn’t it?”

You can’t even confirm it for him. It’s embarrassing to admit, but that is a worry of yours.

“Y/N.” Alex sighs, knowing he’s right because of your silence. “I don’t expect anything from you, you know that right? You can come away with us and we don’t have to do anything.”

“It’s not compulsory, even when we’re home. Y/N/N, you’re Katie’s best friend, you’ve been around for ten years.” He backs up his point some more, “You came on the last holiday we went on, this is going to be no different to that. My birthday just happens to fall on a day whilst we’re there.”

“You didn’t pay for me last time Al.” You argue in a slight huff, already feeling like you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Hey, listen to me.” Alex persists, “I’m paying for everyone to come, not just you, and I’m not expecting a huge orgy all week.”

You can help the laugh that escapes your lips at that. It’s a full giggle that the singer can’t help but grin at as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“There’s that laugh.” He hums, enjoying the sound even more purely because it’s him that’s caused it.

Only after your laughter subsides, do you ask, a lot calmer now, “Are you sure you want me there?”

“Yes, sweet.” Alex assures you. And just to convince you some more, he adds, “I need someone to entertain Mrs Cook when I pull Jamie away for a pint anyway. Think you fit the brief.”

“Ah yeah, I think I could do that for you.” You chuckle a little, but then you’re serious in a soft tone, “I still feel bad that you’re paying though Alex. Skiing holidays are a lot of money.”

“I have a lot of money that I’ll never need.” The singer tells you, and you try not to think about the way anxiety in your chest dissipates when he says, “I’d rather treat my friends to a week away.”

You're his friend. Something so simple shouldn’t make your heart swell. Especially when the other night he tongue fucked you until you came, twice.

“Well I’m buying you food and drinks whilst we’re away then.” You counter, finally readying yourself to admit defeat.

“We’re going all inclusive but thanks.” You can almost hear Alex’s smirk.

You sigh, dropping down onto your settee and leaning back to try and get comfy, “Well I’m assuming we won’t be staying in the hotel for your birthday. They’ll be pubs and cafes I’m sure.”

He counters, “I’ll take a drink at the airport before we go.”

“Okay deal.” You accept but know you’ll find ways to do more than just that, “Thank you Alex. You really don’t have to do this.”

“Well I want to.” Alex smiles, and his tone is full of amusement as he says, “And I can’t have you spiralling.”

You hum in a silent laugh at that and let your eyes close as you take a deep breath. You’re about to tell him that it’s just how you are but you’re okay now you’ve spoken about it. But he takes your attention again.

“You know that this goes both ways right, Y/N/N?” You’re about to ask him what he’s on about until he continues, “If I text you asking to come over, you can say no and I’m not going to be offended by it. I understand that it’s not going to happen every time.”

He’s talking about fucking you. And trying to make you feel more at ease about your situationship.

Alex finishes off by saying, “I just ask on the off chance that you’re up for it.”

“I am always up for it.” Are the words that slip from your lips, and when you realise what you’ve said, your eyes shoot open.

Oh my god woman, you sound so needy. Backtrack now. Now!

You sit up as you begin to pathetically backtrack, “Well. I mean, I- when you say you are, I, I- usually am too.”

“Good to know you’re always up for me, sweet,” You can hear Alex's smirk then, but thankfully he doesn’t tease you more for it he just carries on to say, “It seems like I’m texting you all the time asking to come over but you can text me. You’re allowed to get horny too.”

You try and fail not to flush at hearing him say that. Especially when you can feel the ghost of his touch as you’re sitting on the settee he had you ride him on a week ago.

“Alex, you’re over twice a week, if not more... It’s not like I’m without relief for long.” To drive the point home you say, “It’s not a ten month wait again.”

In your little meetings you’d discussed when you’d both last been with someone else. Yours was a guy you were seeing at the beginning of the year who turned out to just not do it for you after you dated him for a few months.

Alex’s last fling was another rebound of his after the French girl he cheated on Taylor with. Turns out Alex hadn’t been with anyone in the last 5 months which did surprise you a little. But who are you to presume he’d just become a slag after his break up?

“Still. We started this for a reason.” Alex drives the point home, wanting you to fully understand, “You can say no and you can call me whenever you want too.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, “I know.”

“Maybe this holiday can just be the friends you’re so persistent we’re not.”

You frown, confused, “What?”

“Your rule, ‘no sex while we’re away’.” Alex smirks, but he’s sincere when he says, “To make you feel more comfortable.

“I don’t wanna seem like a prude Alex I just don’t…” You fail to continue your sentence, Wanna seem like a prostitute.

“I think of all people, I’m not the one who’s going to think of you as a prude, sweet.” The singer can't help but tease, finding himself funny.

You take a deep breath, trying not to let your amusement or embarrassment show, “So where are we going?”

“The Alps.” The singer tells you almost smugly, “Where else?”

You decide that you may as well ask him for the details if he’s sorting everything out, “When do we go?”

“Early morning of the second, we need to be at the airport for like four.” He tells you after a moment of thought.

You hum, finally letting the excitement for a holiday bubble in your stomach, “Okay.”

Alex is smiling already hearing you finally sound at ease about the holiday, but he can’t help but push his luck a little more, “You free tonight, sweet?”

“No and neither are you,” You almost laugh, the amusement clear in your voice, “We’ve got Katie’s New Year’s party.”

Alex is grinning as he comes back with, “I mean at like three in the morning.”

“You’re a horny fuck.” You can’t help but tell him as you shake your head.

You’re entirely unable to stop your face from flushing, making you very grateful he can’t see you. All you hope is he’s picturing you with a completely unbothered yet

“You’re the one that just said you’re always up for me.” Alex counters and you have to bite your tongue.

Idiot Y/N.

“See you later Alex.” You immediately dismiss him, not wanting his teasing right now.

Alex laughs loudly, “See you later sweet.”

~*~*~*~ January 2nd 2019 ~*~*~*~

The Alps are absolutely mesmerising and you could stare at the snow covered mountains for days. The trip was certainly worth every single ounce of effort and you know you’ll be eternally grateful to Alex for him bringing you all here.

You’re sure when you first got here you looked like a child in a toyshop. The views are absolutely stunning and you know for a fact that your jaw was agape as you took in the breathtaking scenery around you.

So much so that Alex turned you towards him at one point and pushed your jaw back up and quietly teased, “Don’t let anyone else see those pretty lips parted like that, don’t want people getting ideas.”

Needless to say, you flushed hearing that and Alex wasn’t subtle about the way he let his smirk take over his face. And then he left you hanging, sauntering off to join Miles, Nick, and Jamie walking just in front of you, leaving you to catch up with Katie, Kristen, and Flo who all joined you for the holiday.

Alex leaving you like this hadn’t been the only time since you’d woken up early today though. He’d been a tease since he picked you up to take you to the airport, asking if you’d recovered from the previous nights activities where he all but folded you into a pretzel and fucked you until you came on his cock.

That wasn’t the beginning or end of your antics after the party, he’d teased you at Katie’s party, getting you in the mood and ready for him when he pulled you to a quieter bit of the party and pushed you against the wall to kiss you, taking away any sense but him. And he did it every time to leave you wanting more only for him to pull away and leave you to your own devices for a while.

So you were desperate when it got to 3am and he was practically pulling you down the road so you could get back to your house. And he certainly did show you a good time until you practically passed out from the exhaustion.

You woke up late the next morning to a glass of water and some painkillers on your bedside table along with a note that read, Hope you’re not too sore sweet x

It wasn’t hard to guess he probably felt a hint of guilt how far you’d both gone the night before. In the heat of the moment he said somethings about him wanting you to remember him, the feel of him inside you, over the week that you were both away.

He kept making you regret the no sex on holiday rule. Alex kept saying how you'd be begging him to take you when you got back home, how you’d not be able to walk properly by the time he’d finished with you after a week of not touching him the way he knows your filthy mind craves him.

You're ashamed to admit that your thoughts about him are sometimes so dirty they belong down the gutter. He’d certainly made a good job of having you long for him.

You try not to admit to yourself that you crave him. That when he decided that he was the one that was going to be sitting next to you on the plane and not Flo, you were happy. Not because you had any issue with Flo, no she was such an amazing friend to you, but because it was Alex. And he wanted to sit beside you.

The little shit that he was though teased you the whole journey. You were still tired so when you sighed and closed your eyes once you’d relaxed after the take off, Alex whispered into your ear, “Did I work you too hard sweet?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You say as you feel yourself flush knowing he was to do with your fatigue.

You slept in a little on New Year’s Day after you’d taken the painkillers he’d left out for you, but then your day was spent packing for this trip, figuring out what you’d need and calling Katie to double checking on if you’d need going out clothes and doing a checklist of the skiing things you actually own.

By the time you went to bed it was 11pm and that was far later than you should have been going to sleep because you had to be up at 3am to get ready. So it was do to Alex fucking you hard and long enough on New Years and the fact you had so little sleep last night that you were tired on the plane.

Next, he’s disturbing your attempt at sleep by him putting his hand on your thigh and leisurely trailing his hand up and down, mixed with him occasionally squeezing. He keeps an eye on your reaction to him, you going stiff for a few seconds and him taking great pleasure in saying, “I’ve done worse than putting my hand on your thigh, sweet.”

“Not in public or daylight.” You huff and try to get yourself comfy enough to get sleepy.

Looking out of the window just has you mesmerised so after a few minutes you just end up looking around the plane. It's just you and Alex sitting beside each other and for some reason you’re not all that close to your friends.

Katie, Kirsten, and Flo are all on one row, about 4 seats ahead of you, and Miles, Jamie, and Nick are on the row behind them. You’ve got no idea why you’re so far away from them with the gap of strangers in front of you, but you guess things could be worse. You could be sitting alone or worse, you could be at home feeling like you’re missing out.

There’s a stranger beside Alex so you’re glad you took the window seat and the views of sun rising through the clouds were amazing. You genuinely wish you weren’t as tired as you were so you could appreciate them fully.

Instead you’re feeling uncomfortable and whichever way you lean your head isn’t helping you relax. If it's against the wall of the plane you can feel the vibrations, just leaning back does nothing to help and if you do fall asleep like that you’re not risking possibly snoring because your jaw is hanging open, and if you let your head fall forward that’s not good for your posture, not to mention painful.

Maybe it’s you wriggling in your seat that gives you away, considering his hand is still on your thigh, but Alex seems to pick up on your discomfort easily.

“You can lean on me to go to sleep, you know?” Alex tells you with a smile, nodding down to his shoulder just beside you.

“What,” You hold back your sigh but let him know that you’re not all that impressed with his offer after his previous antics, “So you can just try to wake me up even more?”

“Come on sweet.” Alex chuckles, rubbing your thigh again before squeezing it. “Not my fault you’re not finding it relaxing.”

Pretending that him gripping your thigh didn’t give you flashbacks to the other night, you keep your voice quiet as you raise your eyebrows accusingly, “Because you’re trying to be a tease.”

“And it’s working.” Alex smirks, clearly knowing whatever your tells are by now, he gestures to the back of the plane, “Wanna go to the bathroom?”

Its a mixture of shock and being entirely unimpressed that has you asking, “Are you kidding?”

“Absolutely not.” Alex grins, holding his chuckle as he asks, “We’re not on holiday yet, technically. We could go again if you're not feeling satisfied enough before we land?”

You don’t dignify him with an answer, you just shake your head and look away from the tease. While the thought of him fucking you and you having to be quiet because others are around seems like quite the thrill, the mere thought of doing so in a public aeroplane has you wanting gag.

“What?” Alex fakes his hurt, nonchalantly following up with, “I know you can get horny just after you’ve woken up.”

Your head whips back to him, narrowing your eyes as you scold, “You’re being loud.”

He wasn’t. His voice was just above a whisper. But the mere fact you were on a plane with the possibility of anyone around you eavesdropping has you getting all embarrassed and flustered in an instant.

“Sorry,” Alex barely holds back his grin. “I’ll be subtle about it when I take you in the bathroom.”

Instead of scowling, you lean your head back on the seat, close your eyes, and take a deep breath so you don’t end up smacking him. Taking a few seconds to calm your anxiousness down and try not to let his joking get you too embarrassed when you know he isn’t trying to be malicious, you just stay like that silently.

But Alex disturbs your peace, “You don’t have to think about it so intently Y/N/N, we can just do it.”

“No.” You look at him again, and say even quietly to try and further your point, “Not to mention everyone would see.”

Alex can’t help but take that though as you just don’t want to right now. In such a public setting. That’s not you saying that you’d never be ready to join the mile high club.

“Oh okay, remind me to take you on a private jet.” Alex squeezes your thigh again, before winking, “They mind their business on those.”

You’re lost for words for a brief moment. Taking in exactly what that means, and you end up half frowning.

“Way to persuade me.” You scoff, “Telling me you’re already in the mile high club.”

Sarcasm is thick in your voice as you say, “Such a turn on.”

The singer can’t help but smirk though, “Don’t be jealous now, sweet.”

After that, Alex seems to give you a break from his endless torment. He takes his hand from your thigh as he reaches down to his bag by his feet and takes out the word search book he bought himself in WHSmiths at the airport. Finally you feel like you can relax and sleep for the remainder of the 2 hour flight.

Or you hoped so anyway, but it seems the vibrations of the plane's wall just wanted you conscious. So it was with a huff you leant back against the headrest once more.

“Just,” Alex sighs and he picks his hand up to cup the side of your face to gently push your head on his shoulder.

Instant comfort was an understatement compared to the wall and the seat. But you still felt weird about it.

You tell him with a sigh, “I don’t want to annoy you.”

“You don’t annoy me at all, Y/N/N.” He dismisses immediately, paying you no more attention after saying, “Go to sleep.”

And so you did. You got a good hour’s sleep and you think it was only when the plane started to make a steady descent that your body woke you up as a result of the decrease in altitude. But you woke up gently and slowly, and you realised you were still on Alex’s shoulder long before you opened your eyes.

You found yourself not wanting to move. The woody scent of his aftershave leaves you in a little trance all the time and you never want to bring yourself out of it. So you just blinked your eyes open slowly and told your body not to even twitch to give away that you were awake.

And Alex didn’t notice because you now see he’s entirely too engrossed in his book. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre.

A true classic, you can’t help but tiredly smile as you see he’s about to get to one of your favourite bits of the book. You following pretty easily for a few pages because he’s holding the book open practically as far as it can go (you’re so tired you can find it in yourself to shudder at the fact the book will definitely have a cracked spine) in one hand, and you only noticed when he turned the pages that his other had gone back to gently resting on your thigh.

Everything is good for about 5 minutes, but then the singer started reading too fast for you at one of your favourite bits, so you end up having to say a quiet, “Go back,”

“What?” You feel Alex turn his head towards you a little, his jaw gently nudging your head but you don’t make a single effort to move.

“Hadn’t finished the page,” You tell him and Alex can’t help but smile as he turns the page back for you.

His only indication that you’re ready to move on is the slight nod of your head and Alex even angles the book towards your direction a little more so you can both read. He smiles at the way you haven’t attempted to move from his shoulder at all, seemingly quite comfy.

You both continue reading together for the next few pages until the same thing happens again where Alex turns the page too soon. This time you whine a little as you whisper, “Too fast.”

“Not had you complain about my speed before.” Alex can’t help but tease when the opportunity is right there for the taking, but all it earns him is a poke in his side which makes him jump and he just about peers down at you seeing you smiling victoriously.

After this you fall into a rhythm of you nodding slightly when you're ready for him to turn the page. It doesn’t bother Alex at all, no it's the opposite, he finds you endearing that you’re both enjoying his book and reading it at the same time.

The both of you become entirely engrossed in Jane Eyre’s world that you barely even acknowledge that the plane is just about ready to land. It’s only when the air hostess’ voice fills the plane as they announce over the tannoy that you’d be landing shortly, does Alex close the book.

At the same time you reluctantly pick your head up from his shoulder, Alex offers as he taps the book, “Can borrow it after me if you want?”

“I’ve already read it, I just love that part you’re on.” You hum, smiling at him in earnest, “Thank you though.”

And both of you know you’re not just saying thank you for that offer, but thank you for allowing you to fall asleep on him.

The transfer to the resort even had you in awe. But when you got to the hotel and you entered your room, you were blown away by your view.

The white mountains are stunning and you were so glad you brought your camera. This was something you definitely didn’t want to ever forget.

The air felt like ice on your skin as you took your pictures, the bitter cold making you want to jump into the private hot tub you have on your balcony.

You restrain yourself, saving that for later, you opt for a hot shower to settle you after that flight and you end up falling asleep in the warmest queen sized bed.

You all meet downstairs a few hours later where you get some food and decide that you’re going to all get ready to hit the slopes, you all opting for the red runs for today. They were so much fun and with you skiing, you just find yourself in awe of Flo on her snowboard flying past you all.

It’s a fun few hours, with you all stopping half way down the slope at one of the cafes on the mountain where you all have a hot coffee, and the lads follow it up with a beer. The lads head off before the rest of you, wanting to be speed demons and race down the rest of the way which you’re all fine with.

You know Flo will inevitably end up beating them down anyway. Which she of course did.

Before you set off though, you girls decide that after dinner you’re all going to have a little hot tub party. So that’s how you’re now sinking in the hot tub on your balcony, Katie already in after beating you to being the first.

You just laugh at her rushing in there to beat you, as you take off your hotel dressing gown to reveal your dark green bikini. Katie says she loves the colour of yours as you glance back around at her and tell her you adore her maroon one.

But it’s when you step into the tub that Katie gasps, loud enough for you to pause as you stand in the pool of bubbling water.

“What are they?” Katie points to your thighs with wide eyes.

Your bruised beyond belief thighs. Dark, almost purple bruises that litter the tops of your thighs which were left by the mouth of the singer next door.

“Y/N!” Katie yells, her jaw dropped as she looks at the assault on your skin, “What the fuck?”

“Katie, stop looking at me.” You get all flustered and embarrassed so you're about to sit down, but your best friend grabs your hips to stop you so she can look at the dark marks for longer.

“Oh my fucking god.” She shakes her head, too shocked by the sheer amount of them. “It’s hard not to when you have those on your thighs Y/N!”

“Please stop, can we just pretend you didn’t see them.” You pry yourself out of her grip and finally immerse yourself into the hot water, loving the chill dissipating from your body.

“No, I want the gossip.” Katie grabs her glass of prosecco you’d poured her and left on the side of the tub along with yours and the other girls that were meant to be coming shortly. “How’s it been going between you two?”

“Fine.” You nod with a coy smile as you reach for your glass.

Your best friend shakes her head, “I’m not settling with fine.”

“It’s good.” You take a long sip of your drink, knowing you’ll need it if you’re having this conversation, “I guess he keeps me on my toes.”

“In what way?” She prys.

You think about how to word your feelings for a second. The sound of the jets humming in the cold air fills the brief silence until you end on, “I’m still not used to having a booty call or being one. I still get a text off him and it throws me... He still makes me nervous.”

“That’s good though.” Katie hums and nods, “He’d be boring if he didn’t make you nervous.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You nod in agreement.

But your best friend enquires, “He’s not making you nervous in general now, right? Just when he comes on to you?”

“No, it's a lot better.” You explain honestly, sinking into the water a little more. “But I’m still not at ease if that makes any sense. I still find him difficult to read.”

“That just comes with time.” Katie nods, understanding you entirely, “When you start spending more time with him, you’ll figure it out.”

“Well that doesn’t really happen,” You mumble a little but seeing as she heard you and noting that sparkle in her eye for the gossip, you explain, “He sort of just shows up and we fuck and then he leaves.”

Katie frowns a little at that though, “Thought he took you out?”

“That was just until I felt more comfortable around him. We’ve not carried that on.” You almost cringe when you say, “We’re just shagging now.”

“And how’s that going?” Your best friend smirks, “The bruises seem like a good sign.”

You sigh, “Yeahhh.” taking another sip of your drink.

“What was that sigh for?” She calls you out.

You try to pass it off immediately, “Nothing.”

But she’s not having any of it, “S’not nothing, come on.”

“He was just a tease on the plane but he’s doing it on purpose.” Your cheeks heat up a bit as you tell her.

“Getting you ready for later.” She grins and gives you some teasing suggestive eyes herself.

You gently shake your head, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” Katie raises her eyebrows, “What does that mean?”

Oh fuck.

“Don’t make me explain Katie.” You pout.

She pushes you, “Come onnnn.”

You just sigh in defeat and say, “We’re not doing that right now.”

“Excuse me?” Your best friend is now even more confused.

“You heard me Kate.” You sigh, closing your eyes not wanting to explain yet another of your stupid thoughts to her.

For clarity’s sake she has to ask, “Weren’t you with him twice last week?”

“We shagged on Boxing Day and then the 28th and New Years.” You tell her.

And it occurs to you that you’ve probably not been this active on a regular basis since you were in your late teens. Either you or Alex clearly has the sex drive of a teenager and with the state of your thighs, you think it’s more likely Alex.

Glancing at the bruises again you can almost feel the ghost of his mouth there. You fall into the daze of remembering the way his lips attacked the tops of your thighs as he fingered you to edge you, not letting you finish until you were begging to have his tongue instead.

He toyed with you, saying his mouth was already on you, sucking your thighs that bit more before biting them making you whine. But you were desperate to have him eat you out. Have his tongue tease and flick your clit in the way he knows makes you lose your mind.

And he wouldn’t give in. Not until you were on the edge for the third time, right on the verge of getting bratty with him and making the right decision he compensated by eating you out until you came twice on his tongue. And the way he fucked you afterwards, god, you wish-

“And he’s not touched you since?” Katie’s question shocks you back to reality.

You blink a few times, and shake your head, “No.”

She smirks, almost trying to hide it behind her glass, “I bet you’re losing your mind.”

“I feel like it.” You hum, nodding.

Katie asks, fully ready to big you up to go and knock on his door after your girls prosecco party, “Don’t you want him to touch you?”

“I want nothing more at the minute.” You tell her honestly, “But we’re not doing it until after the holiday.”

She frowns, completely confused, “Why?”

Surely on holiday is on of the best places to fuck? Why wouldn’t you be doing that? Katie can’t help but think.

“Because he knew I felt uncomfortable about him paying for me to come and I was worried he’d expect something from me.”

“Y/N.” Her face falls and then she gently scorns you, “He’s not like that.”

“I know he isn’t Katie. But you know how my mind works. It worries me.” You shrug, not really being able to help it.

“Well I thi-“ Katie starts but is interrupted by Florence appearing at the door of your balcony.

“Hey,” You grin, very thankful for the conversation being cut short.

Hopefully never to be brought up again.

“Flo,” Katie smiles and waves her over, “Come in.”

The gorgeous woman walks out and hangs her dressing gown up before running to the tub to escape the chilly air. After commenting on how much both you and Katie like her black, glittery bikini, the artist asks you both, “What were we talking about?”

You try to think of something quickly to change the subject entirely but your best friend gets in there first and grins, “Just how Y/N/N is sleeping with Alex now and she’s seeing if she can go the holiday without.”

You might drown yourself in this hot tub. Can you get any more embarrassed today?

Flo’s smile is huge as her head whips around to you in shock. You can tell she’s happy for you, presumably for Alex too, but she shocks you when she tells you, “Don’t deny yourself the pleasure.”

You’re so beyond confused by that statement until Katie’s eyes go wide as she gasps, “Fuck, I always forget about you two.”

You blink a few times as you hear her tell Katie that it’s understandable she’d forget because it was before her and Jamie got together. But you’re still in shock, you have to get the clarification, “You and Alex?”

You hope it doesn't sound like you’re annoyed because you’re not, no one even Alex has to tell you anything about this and clearly Flo just found out about yours and her ex’s rendezvous. You’re just confused, clearly Katie forgot but you’ve not even heard any jokes about it or any mention of it before now.

“Yeah, a long time ago.” Flo nods and is quick to explain as she grabs her glass of prosecco. “Lost our virginities to each other back in college, but started seeing him years later.”

She continues to explain with a roll of her eyes, “But the idiot was seeing me at the same time as Alexa back on their Favourite Worst Nightmare tour so I held my tongue for about a week until I blew up and called him out in front of all the lads…” She adds quickly, “It got ugly.”

It makes your chest go tight. He did that to one of his best friends years ago, and he did to his girlfriend of three years last year.

You're sincere when you say, “I’m so sorry.”

You feel almost embarrassed to be sleeping with him now. Especially when you’d consider Flo a friend of yours, even before this trip, when you spoke to her about her artwork that she creates at various parties you’ve both attended. She’d always been lovely to you and made you feel entirely at ease.

And now you’re sleeping with her ex. You need the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Don’t be, it worked out well in the end.” It seems that the artist can’t keep the smile off her face as she finishes her story, “I went to Manchester and Matty and my cousin, Adam, got me through it. And when the time was right and I was healed, Matty asked me out and now we’ve been together for a decade.” Her grin is huge as she proudly tells you, “Married for three and a half years.”

It’s impossible to not be happy for her, her love for her husband shining through so brightly. But you can’t help but ask her, “Why are you still friends with him? Alex, I mean.”

You can’t imagine anyone betraying your trust that much and being close friends with them years later.

“Oh, it took a long while and a lot of grovelling on his part. But after two years of barely speaking to him, and with how happy I was with Matty, I forgave Al and now we get on like nothing ever happened.” Flo explains, “I see the other lads too often to let it continue for a lifetime of awkwardness.”

She’s a better person than you. You could never.

You think out loud. “The lads didn’t know he was two timing you?”

“No,” She shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink before saying, “They were as shocked as me when Alexa showed up. Only Miles knew, and covered for him.”

You shake your head, seeing Miles in a completely different light now. But you guess if you’re judging Alex by how he’s only been with you, you have to do the same with Miles.

“You’re too good. I would never forgive either of them for that.” Katie gives her two cents on the situation.

“I’ve been told that a lot. By Alex himself too... But despite last year's shit show, he has changed.” Flo assures you, but then smirks, “So enjoy him, queen.”

You sink into the water a bit more, entirely awkward about the way both women are smirking at you.

“Don’t be embarrassed. He’s good.” Flo giggles, “God only knows that if I didn’t call him out to everyone I would have a hard time choosing between him and Matty.”

You’re glad she’s such a lovely person and she eases you entirely.

“Good job you’re married then.” You joke, which makes Katie also spit out her drink laughing and Flo giggles before clinking her prosecco glass with yours.

“You should see her thighs.” Your best friend laughs.

You shoot her the dirtiest look, “Katie!”

~*~*~*~

Thankfully by the time Kristen arrived the subject of you and Alex had long since been dropped.

Flo saw your thighs and she told you about how she thinks the man will never truly grow up because he left lots of love bites on her boobs when they lost their virginities, and mercifully after that, the subject moved away and the four of you are now just chilling and listening to your a playlist that’s blaring through your phone.

You were all giggling at nothing in particular when you got startled by two men at the balcony door. Alex and Jamie come outside in their trunks and Jamie is the one to scoff, “You all thought you could have a party without us.”

Jamie practically jumps in and sits himself down between Flo and Katie, but your attention is drawn to Alex who sinks in beside you and you half find yourself wanting to scurry over to Katie.

He looks too good. Last time you’d seen him shirtless you were drunk and your memory hazy, but he looks so fucking good and his toned abdomen and his trunks low enough for you to clearly see that V line down to- Stop.

Stop.

Thankfully Alex doesn’t seem to notice the way you get a little bit more tense with him beside you. Instead he immediately asks Flo, “How’s Matty, angel?”

“Yeah he’s good, thanks Shakespeare.” Flo smiles, and despite not understanding her nickname for him, you happily listen in to distract yourself.

Maybe it’s to do with the Macbeth reference in If You Were There, Beware? You can’t help but wonder. Maybe you’ll ask her later.

The singer can’t help but ask curiously, “Why didn’t he join us again?”

“Tour rehearsals.” The artist informs him, “His UK tour starts on the ninth.”

“Fair enough,” Alex nods, clearly completely understanding the situation Flo’s husband finds himself in. “I’m glad we aren’t back on the road till late Feb now.”

“Bet you are.” Flo smiles at him but when he tunes into Jamie’s conversation, her eyes flick to you and she smirks.

You sink even further into the water.

Despite Alex now being beside you, you try not to let your nervous energy take over. No, instead you carry on as normal and have some of the funniest conversations with the people around you. You’re only thrown off when you realise that an old Arctic Monkeys song comes on through your phone and your eyes go wide when Jamie sighs, “I haven’t heard this song in so long.”

Immediately, you tense hearing the guitar and drums at the start of Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts. Fuck, this is why you don’t normally have your music on around Katie, so you don’t have this awkward interaction.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was in this playlist.” You say, immediately turning to reach for your phone.

Liar. You feel Alex’s eyes screaming at you, as he looks amused at the fact you like his music, as if he already didn’t know.

“Keep it on.” Jamie tells you, and you hesitate for a split second feeling Alex’s eyes on you until his friend continues to say, “Complete nostalgia of playing it at yours Al.”

“Yeah, it’s a gooden.” Alex smiles.

“Who was this one even about Al?” Flo asks, entirely amused, thankfully stealing the singer's attention away from you so he doesn’t see you starting to fidget, really not wanting the song to stay on.

Your knee is twitching, your foot tapping on the floor of the jacuzzi like you can’t sit still at all. Thankfully the water and the bubbles will be enough to stop you from being noticed though.

“Just that girl I fancied back in Year 11.” Alex explains, “She was in your English lessons, I think she was called-“

If you were to tell the story again, you wouldn’t have been able to name the girl at all. Just that Alex really liked her in school and never got the courage to ask her out and then some guy who was in the year above them in school ended up going out with her.

The conversation moved on and easily past that and your awkwardness about the man you’re sleeping with catching you having his song on your playlist eases off. But then, about 10 minutes later, it happens again.

“Fuck my life,” You whisper immediately reaching to grab your phone this time.

Because this is so much worse.

It’s not just that Piledriver Waltz has started to play. It’s even more embarrassing that it's the Submarine soundtrack version of the song, it’s just Alex. Not even Arctic Monkeys.

“Didn’t know you enjoyed my music this much, sweet.” Alex can’t help but once again tease you. Finding your reactions too entertaining not to.

The panic in your eyes when the first Monkey's song came on, but the way you swore under your breath at this one just made him want to burst out laughing. You look absolutely mortified, and clearly not wanting to get any extra teasing from himself or your friends which you were likely expecting.

But Alex isn’t one to disappoint. So of course he teased you.

You can’t help but narrow your eyes at him, “In the nicest possible way, fuck off.” Before you quickly look for a playlist that is safe and doesn’t have any of his songs on there.

“It’s all good Y/N.” Alex smirks, “It’s good to know I’m doing something right.”

His hand comes to rest on your thigh to stop your leg from tapping. You swallow, stopping your movements and taking a deep breath to not let it get to you that the others could see his hand on your thigh. Although you’d rather them see his hand there than the bruises he’s left.

Thankfully the bubbles disguise it from everyone else and no one comments, but just as you ask, “What album do you want to listen to?” Miles and Nick turn up at your door with more alcohol in their hands and everyone beckons them in.

Which is an issue for you because the hot tub is probably only meant to have 4 people in it at the most and now there’s 8 of you. So you’re unsure why it’s you and Kirsten that have drawn the short straws, but you’ve both been pulled into the laps of who you’re sleeping with. But one second you were seated closely beside Alex, and now you’re sitting on his lap, your arm having to go over his shoulder so you don't slip off as you lean into him a little.

Kirsten and Nick, you understand, they are married. Flo not sitting in Miles’ lap, you again understand because they aren’t together. What you don’t understand is why Katie isn’t on her husband's lap when they are married and have a child. But you, who has been sleeping with this man for less than a month, has been pulled onto his lap to make more room for everyone.

All of a sudden you feel like you’re holding your breath and can’t relax. After being submerged in the warm water for so long, most of your top half being exposed to the crisp air makes you chilly and your thighs feel far too close to the surface of the water so you feel your hands in your lap to try and disguise the bruises.

Thankfully one of Alex’s arms comes to rest across your thighs too and he holds your thighs again. And you can’t help slipping back into that little daydream of yours.

Of the way he pried your thighs open, as if you weren’t already willing and dripping for him. As if you weren’t begging him to eat you out anyway. And when he finally gave into your demands his fingers only dug into your skin more, holding you open entirely at his mercy.

And when he worked you up and up until he had your back arching and his name caught in your throat as you pulled harshly on his hair. He kept going, eating up everything you had to give him until you were writhing beneath him entirely overstimulated.

After he blissfully tortured you like that, he kissed his way up your body until you could taste yourself on his tongue. And that only lead to him fucking you till you could barely move. His cock made you see stars when he hooked his arms under your legs and moved them closer to your chest.

The pleasure he drove into you over and over was blinding, you saw white when you came. The only thing you can remember is the way Alex groaned into your ear when you clenched around him and the way he moaned when you tugged on his sweaty hair. And the way he bit your shoulder when he got his release not a minute later.

Not to mention the way he flipped you over when you both caught your breaths and he fu-

“I can feel you.” Alex's whisper startles you out of your memory and your eyes snap to the man you were daydreaming about.

You all but jump off his lap, your heart racing ten to the dozen feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. But you keep calm, not letting your cheeks heat up to give you away.

“Feel what?” You ask him, the shock slowly disappearing from your face.

“Your pulse,” Alex tells you in a low voice, his grip on you tightening, “On my thigh.”

And it dawns on you what he means. You’re fucking throbbing, completely aching at the thought of him. And he can fucking feel you.

Fuck offfffffff. Men can actually feel that?!

No. No. No.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play dumb, having to because you don’t think you’ll be able to look at him again if not.

Not that you can right now, you just look at Flo and start listening to her, Miles, and Kirsten’s conversation. Meanwhile praying to every god that there is that you calm the fuck down and you stop being horny immediately.

“Course you don’t, sweet.” Alex kisses your shoulder and his lips linger on your skin as he smirks, “Just like you can’t feel me.”

You’re about to ask him what he means until he shifts you against him more and you can feel his erection pressed against your thigh. He’s hard. Really hard. You have to hold in the sound you want to make.

Why the fuck did you want this ‘no fucking’ shit. You can’t stop thinking about him. The way you want to kiss him. The way you want him in your mouth. The way you want him to fill you up and fuck you like it’s the last time you’re ever going to be able to.

You don’t even realise what you’re doing until Alex grunts in your ear, “I’d stop wriggling unless you want me to fuck you in front of these lot.”

Your thighs press against each other and you pray Alex didn’t feel that too. Despite him definitely noticing, Alex didn’t say anything, didn’t tease you any more and you just about managed to have a conversation with Flo about how she’s joining her husband on his tour and how she’s going to stay in Sheffield for a while after to see her best friend.

But it’s not long after that, the alcohol runs dry and everyone notices the time. Nick and Kirsten are the first to leave, followed by Katie and Jamie, and when you don’t move from Alex’s lap (because he won’t let you, his hands clutching you tightly after you tried to move when the first couple left. Clearly doesn’t think the bubbles will hide his hard on) Flo and Miles are the last to get out.

Miles gives you both a cheeky smile and he helps the artist out of the tub and hands her the dressing gown. Both of them say bye to you and Alex but Florence gives you a teasing look as she leaves, seeming to scream at the both of you, have funnn.

Your jaw locks and you very subtly shake your head at her, trying your absolute best to keep the smile off your face and show your strength. And you’d say you do well, you shout an unbothered bye to the direction they went and only when you hear your bedroom door thud shut does Alex’s hold on you go slack.

And finally you release the breath you were holding and grab the side of the tub to stand up, needing off this man's lap before you do something you’ll regret. Abandoning your empty prosecco glass you just get yourself stood up when the singer stops you.

“Where are you going?” Alex gently grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him, the water sloshing as you fall back towards him.

“Alex,” You sigh as he moves you so you’re straddling him, but before you can even protest his mouth finds yours.

His kiss takes your breath away, and he doesn’t give you time to think. He just wants you to feel.

Alex attacks you with long kisses, three of them that have you forgetting that you were even trying to get away. It’s as if something ignites in you both, the mere connection of your lips has your skin erupting in goosebumps, and they aren’t from the contrast with the hot water and the cold air.

But you seem to get some perspective and much to Alex’s disappointment, you pull back from the kiss. But he doesn’t let you go far at all, his hand on the back of your neck keeps you close enough your foreheads are resting against each others.

“It’s just a kiss.” Whispers the man who’s got your heart racing, his hand pulling your neck that bit closer hoping you’ll kiss him again.

“It’s never just a kiss with you,” You breathlessly reply, gently shaking your head, your nose rubbing against his.

When he pulls you back for another kiss you can’t deny yourself the simple pleasure. Because it is never just a kiss.

And it isn’t, because you’re not sure what this one is laced with, but you’re addicted. You don’t want to stop for a single second, especially not when he grabs your hips with both hands and pulls you against him properly.

Your back arches, your chest against his now and he can feel your peaked nipples through your bikini top. He can’t help but groan, he’s been wanting to feel them against him in some capacity since he saw them through your bikini top when he lifted you onto his lap and you got cold and his head filled with filth about you.

About how he wanted to pinch them between his fingers so you’d make that noise he loves. About how he couldn’t stop thinking about his head being back between your thighs when he spotted the bruises he’d left there. About how he wanted nothing more than to tease you in front of his friends, to see how far he could push you out of your comfort zone. And after he could feel you throbbing on his thigh he wanted nothing more than to make you cum over and over again.

This kiss turns hard and hungry and it takes you enough by surprise that if you were standing you’d have stumbled back with the force of it. As you’re on his lap though, you can’t escape and you don’t for a second want to. Alex’s hands move your hips so you start grinding on him and both of you moan at the friction.

You hope that the rumble of the jets hides them from anyone other than the two of you, and you pray to every god that Katie and Jamie haven’t decided to go into their hot tub as they are the room beside yours. Despite the wooden panelling hiding the balconies completely from potential neighbours, you need to keep quiet. But it’s so difficult when he’s making you feel so good.

The more you grind against him, the more you can feel your stomach tighten with need. The way Alex is dragging you against his cock just makes you worse, your clit finally getting the friction it’s been aching for.

Minutes pass of your whining, gasping, and mewling as he encourages you, taking handfuls of your arse to pull you towards him as he bucks his hips up into yours. His moans motivate you more, your hips now erratic in search for relief as he kisses you.

Alex licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough of the way you taste. His groans spur you on, and his hand moving up to the middle of your waist has you arching into his chest again, and he can’t help but move his hips in time with yours, loving the little whines that escape your pretty lips.

But he needs to hear more, so when you tug on his hair, and he bucks up into you, he bites your bottom lip when you moan so he can muffle it with his own lips. He smirks when he pulls away and he grabs your face, his thumb and index finger pressing your cheeks together as he grinds you against him again, his fingers digging into your hip ensuring it.

The moan you let out for him then, you can’t suppress, and by the way Alex’s eyes seem to sparkle with delight shows you just how satisfied the sound makes him. Like it was intent all along to have you be loud for him.

“Do I feel good, sweet?” His voice a low whisper that has your throat bobbing.

The singer kisses his way up your jaw before biting your earlobe, and he clearly wants an answer, “Well?” His hand falling from your cheeks to your neck and the slightest pressure has your head in pieces.

“Mmm.” You hum in agreement pulling back enough to grab his jaw and bring his lips back up to yours.

You refuse to let him mark your neck up again, no matter how good his lips feel on your throat. And at this point you know he’d do it just to get the both of you caught to see if you could withstand your friends teasing.

This between you carries on for longer than it should. But that pull, that spark, between you, now ignited neither of you can get enough.

“You like knowing you get me this hard, just from seeing the bruises I left on your thighs?” Alex rasps, as he kisses slowly down your neck.

At this point, you think you’d do just about anything to have his lips on you or on your skin somehow. It’s addicting. So much so that you don’t remember the silly rule that you agreed upon, especially when Alex moves his hand

“From seeing these,” Alex hums against your neck as his thumbs circling both your nipples through your bikini. “I can still feel them on my chest from the other night.”

His lips trail down your neck and the top of your chest and he kisses over your skin and his hands grab at you that bit tighter as he says, “I want my mouth all over you, sweet.”

His thumbs hook into your bikini top and he pulls both cups to the side, leaving you bare for him. His lips are on your breast in a second and the other he kneads in his calloused hand.

Your head falls back, a moan falling freely from your lips as you grind yourself onto his cock as he sucks your nipple. Needing as much friction as you can get because you could easily finish like this if he carried on. But god, you want him inside you instead.

Picking your head up, your fingers tug in his hair encouraging him as his right hand now grabs your arse again making you move on him. Fuck, you could cum just from this, easily if he carries on.

He swaps to your other tit, lapping at it and savouring the sweetness of your skin and he can’t help but moan when you rut against him again. God, he just wants to have you like this forever, just free of inhibitions and completely giving into your desire.

“Well, sweet? You like knowing what you do to me?” He teases, but he takes it a step further and he reaches between you and he presses circles onto your clit through your clothes, “That I like feeling this greedy thing throbbing on my lap for me?”

The sound you let out is guttural and completely obscene. To mute it you harshly pull his hair so you can press your lips against his to quieten yourself. But fuck knows if he even helps.

His sweet torture continues and you feel the tension forming in your lower stomach, flames scorching your limbs, all caused by the man who’s name falls from your lips in desparate pleas, “Alex.”

His kiss is hot and heavy like a man starved, like he could never get enough of you. His hands claiming you is something promise you’ll never deny yourself the pleasure of again, those magic fucking fingers have you seeing stars. Each swipe of them against your clothed clit pushes you closer towards that delightful edge.

“I- Al, oh.” Fuck. You’re going to finish, this is it and it’s going to shatter you entirely.

His warm hands on you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your own, his body heat making your nipples perk from the stimulation. And his fucking cock that you’re aching to have inside you, he’s so hard all you can think about is reaching down and moving your costume to the side so you can line him up and fill you to the br-

So consumed with your thoughts and your erratic hips chasing the orgasm you're on the verge of having you miss the singer mumble against your lips, “Okay, that’s enough.”

You only register when Alex’s hand now holds your hip to stop you from moving and you hear him say, “Stop, sweet.”

“No,” You helplessly whine, entirely cockdrunk at this point, wanting him too badly and you kiss him deeply again.

But Alex only entertains the kiss for another second, before he pulls away and to stop your lips from following his again, he holds your jaw, “If you keep kissing me, we’re not going to make it another minute.”

You’re so breathless you barely understand what he means. But as you take a minute to get some oxygen back into your system you realise what you’ve done and god you want to lock yourself up and throw away the key.

“I’m sorry.” You swallow, looking away from his gaze.

“Don’t apologise.” Alex shakes his head, and you note he’s just as out of breath as you. And he gently readjusts your bikini so it’s covering your modesty again as he says, “We agreed on your rule, sweet, don’t wanna break it on day one now, do we?”

It’s his smirk that he gives you as he says the end of that which makes you say, “You’re a bully.”

Because he’s got you all hot and bothered, only to completely edge you and use ‘your rule’ as an excuse to leave you right on the brink. God you could absolutely throttle him. But knowing Alex, he’d enjoy it, so you keep your hands to yourself.

The singer just laughs, “You love it.” And he taps your arse under the water to prompt you to stand up so he can too.

Jesus Christ it’s only now that you realise how perishing the cold is, you practically jump out of the tub and run for your dressing gown before heading to the door. And you’re kind enough to hold the door open for Alex as he wraps his towel around his shoulders.

It’s only now that you gulp seeing just how little the swim shorts disguise his erection. Standing at attention is an understatement, and there’s a little spark of pride that scorches your blood knowing you’ve caused that.

You don’t let your eyes linger, but you know from the smug smirk on his face as he walks through the door that he’s caught you looking. And the prick opens his mouth, probably to bully you once more but you beat him to it as you close and lock the balcony door.

“You don’t care about the rule, why’d you stop when I was clearly enjoying myself?” You ask as you follow him to the door to your room.

“Because you were dead set about not wanting to before we came.” Alex tells you sincerely, and you can’t help your heart from warming that little bit as he looks you in the eye and says, “I don’t want you regretting anything between us.”

Swallowing down the smile you want to plaster all over your face, you tell him, “I don’t regret what just happened, for the record.”

“Good.” Alex smiles, walking the last few steps to your door. And the singer is about to open it before he pauses, turns back and tells you, “Oh, and don’t get yourself off.”

Immediately you frown a little. It’s a miracle your words don’t come out as a scoff, “Don’t think you have that authority.”

The smirk that comes to those pretty swollen lips and the way his eyes darken is something that needs capturing in a museum. Fucking hell it’s definitely banked away in a certain area of your mind.

“I could just fuck you now if you’re going to do that.” Alex raises his eyebrows, and you can tell he’so putting the offer out there.

But after him saying it’s only day one, you’re definitely not giving in now. A week without fucking him. You can do it. You just can’t fucking slip up again. How embarrassing of you to have given in to your temptations only mere hours after your holiday began.

Alex seems to understand your thoughts entirely so he quickly saves himself from a scolding, “Think of it as being edged instead, don’t touch yourself. It’ll make next week more fun.”

Your still fucking throbbing for him, aching isn’t even the right word for the need for relief you’re feeling. It looks like your bullet won’t be being used while you’re away after all. But if you’re showing restraint, you certainly won’t be the only one.

You nod, the corner of your lips tugging up a little seeing Alex smile down at you and as he reaches from the door handle to let himself out, you surprise him by saying, “Don’t touch yourself either then.”

He looks at you again, his eyes entirely full of surprise that you’ve given him an order. But he’ll do it for you. He won’t be a double standard, so he agrees.

Although when he opens the door and takes a step out, and you tell him, “Go get a cold shower.” He loves your brattiness.

“Could share one of those?” Alex offers as he takes a step back towards you, his eyes bright and full of mischief as he smirks down at you.

All you can think is, And end up having a repeat of the first time you were in the shower with him? No chance.

“See you tomorrow, Alex.” You smile, placing a hand on his bare chest and pushing him towards the door perpendicular to yours.

Alex chuckles, blowing you a teasing kiss, “Goodnight, sweet.”

~*~*~*~ January 4th 2019 ~*~*~*~

To say that the next couple of days were positively torturous would be a massive understatement. The cold shower you had after Alex left your room that first night didn’t do much to calm you down, the ache between your thighs didn’t disappear until well into the night of you tossing and turning in bed.

At one point you were ready to march into his room and tell him how unfair it is to leave you on edge like that, and that it was unfair because you’d be so pent up that you’d have a miserable holiday. But then you’d realise you’d see the singer's smug smirk and he’d say something along the lines of, ‘You’re so greedy that you come begging me to get you off, is that it? You can’t go even a few hours without me, can you not? You poor sweet thing.’

So you chose to stay warm in bed, following his direction of not getting yourself off and you eventually fall asleep. You swear though that if he got himself off and didn’t stick through this with you, you’d be absolutely fuming.

And you can’t help but be pleased when Alex eventually joins you all for breakfast the next morning, and he made a thunderstorm look appealing. ‘In a mood’ would be an understatement. The singer looked like he hadn’t slept a wink, he hadn't even bothered with his hair, it was still dishevelled, and his glum, tired face had a smile tugging on your lips.

Good. You like knowing you’re not the only one who felt absolutely tortured.

You had to hide your smirk by taking a drink of your orange juice, sipping it through the straw as your eyes linger on the singer who looks like he could commit a murder if his breakfast was served wrong. Clearly though, you’re not being as slick as you thought you were hiding your amusement by taking a drink because when Alex’s eyes lock with yours he sees the knowing in them.

Instead of shying away from him though, you stare straight into his eyes and let your smirk show when you pull your drink out. You even raise your eyebrows at him entirely enthralled that he looks so much worse than you this morning. Looks like it’ll be cold showers for him for the foreseeable future.

Alex couldn’t help but find you equally as amusing that morning at breakfast. The smile stayed on your face for the entirety of your meal and he could tell that seeing him so affected by the lack of your company had somehow boosted your confidence. So, pent up he may be, but he’d suffer in silence for as long as he needed to see that smug look on your face once more.

Alex made sure his teasing continued throughout that day and the next. His flirting and lingering looks had you more on edge than usual thanks to the fact you felt entirely touch-starved, but you couldn’t deny that he had your heart racing.

On the slopes he would sometimes wait for you if he wasn’t racing the boys or Flo down the mountain, to make sure you got down alright and there would be flirting when you’d stopped at the cafe’s that were half way down the slope. And he had you buy him the promised drinks that made you come on this holiday in the first place so you were happy keeping your end of that bargain.

He really made you smile today when you had a bit of a fall on the slope. He watched you fall but he stopped right beside you and made sure you were okay before getting you back to your feet and he went down the slope as by your side as he could get. And when you both reached the bottom, he played into checking you over, being cheeky and saying he’d have to get the layers off you to make a complete and thorough check. Something which of course you rolled your eyes at but you couldn’t keep the smile from your face.

When you walked out of your room each night dressed to go for dinner he told you how gorgeous you looked in your dress when he saw you, whether that be him stepping out of his room at the same time coincidentally or when you walked down with Katie and he was waiting for you with the other lads. Tonight was the latter and the way he looked you up and down made you feel all tingly inside.

And this evening at dinner he sat beside you and when you were waiting between courses, Alex rested his hand on your thigh, and it wasn’t at all to try and rile you, he seemed to just want to be affectionate. And Flo is right, why would you deny yourself that pleasure.

You know you’re nowhere near a relationship, or possibly even heading into that direction. But this fun you’re having with him, it doesn’t mean you can’t take comfort from the small meaningful gestures that you’ve found that you’ve missed since your last relationship.

So yes, you’ve adored the flirting, and matched his energy entirely by giving him back as much as good as you’ve got which grants you access to that cheeky smirk you’re starting to love being the cause of. You pretend like your heart doesn’t do something stupid when he’s affectionate and you’ll continue to act like you aren’t dying for him to touch you and kiss you and fuck you until you’re back home.

And all of this is the reason why right now, you’re absolutely seething at yourself. Why you’re now at this bar, side-eyeing the man who’s had you at whit's end for the past few days wanting god to do you a favour and stop what you’re seeing.

You hate it, you absolutely hate it. Seeing Alex’s hand on her hip, the way he smiles at her as she’s talking, and the way he’s making this random girl laugh.

It’s been at least 15 minutes now since he went up to the bar to get himself another drink and left your group at the few standing tables in the corner which you’d all claimed. And when you looked over after 5 minutes of him disappearing, you saw him at the bar talking away with possibly the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen.

Intimidated isn’t even the word you could use to compare yourself to the stunning woman. She’s just everything you’re not. Clearly she's confident to speak to a stranger normally and not at 100 miles per hour because she’s nervous. She’s absolutely gorgeous with the complete opposite hair colour and style to yours, and her dress accentuates all of her features perfectly, leaving little to everyone’s imagination but she’s so gorgeous and fearlessly self assured, there’s no way you could possibly compete with a woman like her.

Your chest sinks because it’s so easy for you to realise just how jealous of this woman you are. Not just because she holds Alex’s attention and you want that back for yourself, you’re just hit with that intimidatingly jealous feeling you’ve not experienced for such a long time. And it’s such a dirty feeling, you really judge yourself for it.

Because you’re well aware you’re not in a relationship with the singer. Yes you’re fucking each other but he could easily call that off at any point, especially on holiday when you’ve established you’re not sleeping with each other and that will make your self esteem plummet and not to be dramatic but you’ll more than likely never put yourself out there again, and you think that is valid enough if that’s how this night ended.

To make it worse, the ladies you’re with, your close friends can clearly see that you’re slipping into a foul mood. A few times you’ve been asked what’s wrong, and you’d have to tune back into conversations and plaster a fake smile on your face because you’ve got so stupidly in your head about all of this.

It was only when Katie followed your gaze to the bar did she realise what was making you slip into a bad mood. On the down low, when Kirsten and Flo were having their own conversation, Katie said, “Y/N/N?”

“Hmm?” You hum, tearing your eyes away from a laughing Alex and the stunning woman.

You look at your best friend as she seriously asks, “What are you waiting for?”

Immediately, you’re confused, “What?”

Katie can’t help but laugh to herself a little as you’re being so blatantly obvious to her. And she can’t lie, she secretly loves seeing you jealous, because she’s never witnessed it before. And the mere fact you’re being silently possessive over Alex is all the more amusing to her.

“Just go and get him.” She encourages you, seeing that you’re holding your glass of wine that little bit too tight.

She understands that you’re probably that bit more jealous too because you are bordering on being a little bit drunk. Your tolerance is slightly better than hers and she knows that you’ve drank near enough the same amount so she’s very aware how your thoughts are probably being manipulated by the alcohol.

“No, if he wants to play he can,” You tell her and put on a brave face, turning away from him now in an attempt to not shoot daggers at him with your eyes, “He just won’t be getting me again afterwards.”

And you mean it. You won’t get caught up in that STD mess waiting to happen. Condoms or not. It’s a no from you.

You drink with the girls a bit more then, the other lads make you laugh too but after a few minutes you become all too aware again that there’s a missing piece. And it’s like a wound to the chest when you see he’s still there talking to that woman and they seem to be standing that little bit closer, smiles still on both of their faces.

Something about it hurts, and not due to the fact he’s being flirted with. It mostly gets to you because he’s being so kind to someone he’s just met and you only got that side of him after a ten years and only when you called him out for his behaviour. It makes your heart sink a little, you just don’t know why he wasn’t ever this friendly toward you when you were first introduced, yet he can be so kind, smiley, and flirty to a complete stranger.

Up until 6 months ago, Alex would barely hold a conversation with you and something about that always hurt. The effort you’d make only for it to go unreciprocated when he probably knew how much it took for you to not be socially awkward around him. It’s a blow to your chest and to your ego.

And to make it worst, he’s flirting with this girl as if you haven’t been fucking each other for a month and he didn’t almost fuck you in the hot tub the other night. As if the bruises he left on your thighs aren’t still very prominent and he didn’t edge you, leaving you craving every little bit of him for the last two days. And now he’s flirting with someone that isn’t you.

And you can’t even blame the woman for flirting with him. He looks impeccable this evening. He’s in a black suit with a black shirt and he looks incredible. Like you’d do just about anything for him to pull you aside in this darkened bar and for him to whisper filthy promises in your ear before his lips find yours and he takes your breath away all over again.

But you’re not so lucky. And your mood worsens when you see the bartender come back with two drinks in his hands and he places them in front of the pair. But it’s when Alex gets his card out and seemingly pays for both does your heart drop.

Has he just fucking bought her a drink?

You blink a few times and force yourself to look away. The feeling that’s settled in your stomach not being one that you want to ever be feeling. Jealousy is such an ugly emotion and you wish it wasn’t running through your veins right now so you try and breath through it, letting the thoughts pass you by as quickly as they come.

The people that know you best though, can see you’ve sort of checked out from the conversations surrounding you, and you’re staring out of the window at the snow that’s beginning to gently fall. Your best friend knows it’s not the same zoned out as you were awestruck when you first arrived on this holiday though, it’s due to you being in your head because of the man at the bar.

And it seems Katie isn’t the only one, because Flo asks Mrs Cook quietly, “Should I go tell him?”

Katie notes that she nods over towards the bar, but your best friend immediately shakes her head.

“No,” She tells her, “Let him dig his own grave.”

Because after everything last year, she wants Alex to prove himself worthy of having her best friend. She knows you deserve something good, and despite being 99% sure that Alex is just being polite to a fan at the bar, she wants him to prove that he wouldn’t ruin this good thing that you both have going for the sake of another woman who could pass as a model.

So Katie distracts you, getting another glass of wine down you is easy to do and she has you giggling with her and Flo again.

While you adore your friends for their distraction tactics, Alex and the stunning woman linger in your mind, and you feel like you need a second to quieten those intrusive thoughts. So you head to the toilet in hopes to clear your head but when you hold the sink and look at your reflection the clarity that hits you is that you’re drunk and probably (most definitely) overreacting, and you just find yourself wanting to close your eyes.

So that’s why when you make your way back to your friends, who Alex is still not with, you decide your night is done.

“Guys, I’m going to head back.” You tell all of them, “The wine has gone to my head and I’m so tired after today.”

Each and every one of their faces fall and they all start a little bit of a commotion, shaking their heads and shout over each other drunkenly pleading with you not to go. But it’s a singer who is the one that complains the loudest.

“Noooo come on, Y/N/N.” Miles throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as he says, “Party with us.”

You smile at him but there’s no way you’ll be giving in. You need your bed. And to get away from Alex and the stunning woman taking all of his attention at the bar.

“Miles, you saw the fall I had earlier today,” You almost wince at the memory, “I’m knackered and just wanna get in bed so I’m good again tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you back.” Jamie offers but immediately you shake your head, having none of it.

“No, you’re having a great time, stay out. Have fun.” You smile, giving him a look to say ‘do not put on your coat’ as you put on your own.

You’ll be perfectly fine getting back by yourself, everywhere is lit well enough to make the 5 minute walk back feel safe. And you could certainly use the time to clear your head.

So you just smirk, wrapping your coat around you and downing the last of your white wine. And you grin, “I'll see you all hungover for breakfast in the morning.”

They all laugh at your little joke, knowing it’ll more than likely come to fruition, before they pull you into hugs goodbye. Flo, you realise, gives the best hugs out in the group, and she holds you tightly as she whispers in your ear, “Are you sure?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, “Positive.”

She pouts a little as you pull away from the hug but you give her a kiss on the cheek and tell her to have another drink for you which makes her giggle and she promises she will. And then the only person left over here you have to hug is your very drunk best friend, and Katie all but smothers you with her bear hug.

God you adore your best friend so much. Or you do until she easily reads between the lines and questions your actions.

“This isn’t to do with Alex, is it?” She asks, pouting like she’s both angry and upset, “Because you can’t let him spoil your fun.”

You hate that she knows you so well, but wanting to go back to your hotel room is only marginally to do with Alex at this point. You know if you drank anymore tonight you’d be worse for wear tomorrow and you don’t want to ruin this precious holiday by staying in your room wanting to throw up.

“No, I'm just tired.” You lie, trying not to even think about the fact that Alex not really giving you any attention and flirting with another girl was what triggered your bad mood in the first place. You tell her, “I just wanna get some sleep.”

“Okay queen.” Katie nods before she pulls back and she looks into your eyes to seriously tell you, “Text me as soon as you get back to the hotel, okay?”

“I will.” You promise her and after she gives you another hug, you turn to leave.

You avoid looking anywhere near the bar even though you have to pass it to leave, but you’re quick and you leave out of the side doors and make it down the stairs fairly quickly. The automatic doors expose you to the cold air quickly and you’re so thankful you chose your long, navy dress this evening, even if you were regretting the slit in it that comes up to just above your knee when the wind hits you.

Thankfully, your ‘going out coat’ is a long one, coming down to just past your knees, and would retain most of your body heat, so as you walk towards the doors you start to slowly button it up. But your buttons aren’t cooperating, they won't go through the bloody buttonhole. Clearly nothing wants to go right for you this evening.

And you end up not paying attention to where you’re going as you walk out of the bar, you don’t realise that the smoking areas out front has gotten busier so you end up turning to head back to your hotel and you bump into someone at quite a little bit of force. Immediately, you end up almost slipping too, not realising that the ground has become slippy too thanks to the fresh snow landing and melting. But before you fall arse over tit, you're saved by your own victim. The poor man you bumped into.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You say as you grab onto his tattooed arm that stabled you.

And it’s only when you’re sure you’re steady on your feet do you look at the exquisite man. A gasp almost leaves your mouth at just how attractive he is. The strong jawline, the short black hair, the sun kissed skin, and possibly the most stunning eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. They are such a gorgeous shade of blue they almost look purple, and God, you half wish you could stare into them all night.

“No worries,” The man holding your arm says, and once he’s satisfied you can stand properly again, his eyes drop to take you in.

It makes you feel like your heart is in your throat for the two seconds he checks you out, but under the stare of those gorgeous eyes, it feels like it lasts an age. You can’t help watching as a small smirk forms on his lips, clearly pleased with what he sees and when his eyes meet yours again, you feel like your knees could fall from under you again if he wasn’t still holding you up. He’s dream worthy.

His fingers move down your wrist and he gently comes to squeeze your hand as he smirks but endearingly says, “Careful darling.”

Immediately, the pet name makes you flush, and under his gaze you feel like you’re vibrating somehow, and you realise just how badly you need to get yourself back to your hotel. So to not make a fool out of yourself again, you cut the situation short.

“Thank you.” You give him a gracious smile and a small nod of your head before turning towards your hotel and safely begin to rush off.

In your peripherals, you see the two other men that the stunning man was accompanied by and you’re glad you didn’t interact with them too, because they look just as attractive as their friend. You’d surely crumble under their gazes and start awkwardly chatting their ears off so you’re pleased to get away from both them and that bar.

At least this gives your drunk mind a quick distraction from wondering what Alex and that girl are currently up to. You try not to think about how cosy they might have got or if either of them have made a move. No, you’d rather think about your embarrassing encounter with a model worthy guy who then checked you out and you said thank you to him.

Thank you? God, you’re so fucking stupid for saying thank you Y/N/N, that doesn’t even make sense. Thank you for me bumping into you and being so kind about it? What was the thank you for? Silly bitch.

God you really need to get to sleep. Your brain is absolutely spinning.

Instead you find yourself focussing on the crunch of snow under your boots, how you can see your breath in front of you. And the gentle light coming from the lampposts illuminates the snow that’s slowly falling from the sky and you can’t help but think that it’s so beautiful despite it being so cold.

Finally you manage to do up the buttons of your coat and your hands are stuffed in your pockets as you carry on walking. But it’s only a few seconds later, you hear your name being shouted behind you. You think you’re hearing things so you don’t stop walking, but then you hear someone running behind you and a gentle call of, “Sweet.” As he begins to slow down.

Alex is out of breath by the time he’s beside you, and a gentle hand on your arm stops you from walking. A mixture of emotions runs through you in that moment, happy that he’s not with that girl anymore is certainly one of them, but annoyance at him for him even flirting with someone else hits you all over again.

And it just makes your mood worse, because you absolutely despise being jealous. You hate it. You hate the tightness in your chest and you hate the way you start to second guess everything. And you don’t think you should be second guessing if you’re good enough.

But you keep all of that to yourself, not wanting to annoy Alex or appear jealous or be overbearing. You’re just drunk and you need to get over yourself.

“Sweet.” Alex says a little out of breath, “What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” You say more flatly than you meant to and turn to carry on walking to the hotel.

You’d scorn yourself for it, but you’re glad Alex doesn’t pick up on your tone. He just follows after you, falling into step as he asks, “Why are you leaving so early?”

“It’s almost one Alex,” You tell him, “I’m tired.”

You’re certainly not telling him that he’s a part of the reason you’re leaving. Even if he has finally given someone else the time of day for a brief minute tonight.

Trying not to focus on the mixed emotions cursing through you, you end up telling the singer, “You don’t have to walk me back, go back to the bar.”

“And let you walk back on your own at one in the morning?” Alex frowns down at you, “I don’t think so.”

You shake your head slightly at that, knowing he’s just doing that because of the story you told him about how you don’t like to walk alone at night. But you don’t want him here solely because of that. “I don’t need your pity.”

“There’s no pity, I’m just not a dickhead, sweet.” Alex’s smile then turns into a smirk as he throws his arm around your shoulders and he pulls you against him, “Now let me keep you warm.”

Your chest feels lighter somehow at his actions, and it makes you feel all gooey and smiley inside. But your brain is telling you to keep a hard exterior after what you witnessed tonight, so you try and brush him off, “Al, I’m fine.”

But the singer is having none of it. He just holds you tighter teases, “You’re moody.”

“I’m tired.” You correct him, even though you’re lying through your teeth.

“With your little rule, I thought you would have been reserving more energy.” Alex smirks, not being able to pass on the opportunity to torture you that little bit more.

You don’t mute your scoff at that, and decide that silence is what he deserves after that comment and him flirting with someone else all evening. And it hits you all over again how up until a few months ago you’d only get silence and sneers from him, but that woman at the bar instantly got smiles and flirting. It makes you want to push his arm off your shoulder and you fall silent again.

It’s confusing. Wanting to scold him but then also lean into him and accept the joy the simple pleasure of him hugging you brings you. And you’re feeling it all at once. You don’t understand it and don’t really know how to process it.

Sleep. You need sleep.

With his free hand, Alex digs into his coat pocket and pulls out his gloves, noticing you’re shivering, “Here take these.”

“Thank you.” You accept them quietly and graciously and don’t waste much time putting them on, even if they are too big for you.

Alex smiles once you have them on, and he squeezes your shoulder that bit tighter as he grins, “They suit you.”

“Bit big, but I'll take it.” You shrug a little, and give him a bit of a smile so you don’t look like a colossal bitch. It was a kind gesture after all.

Alex grins back down, his eyes bright as he says with a knowing look, “Well, you know what they say about big hands, sweet.”

Holding your own smile back, you fake a roll of your eyes and look away from him, “You’re not funny.”

“What?” Alex asks, faking innocence but smirking, “Just big gloves, nothing untoward.”

You share an amused look then, both looking into each other's eyes and knowing for certain that was not what he was meaning. In those few seconds though, you can’t help but notice how gorgeous he looks, with the snow falling down around him, a few flakes having found home in his hair and he just looks so pretty and happy.

You always want to look at him and see that cheeky smile looking back down at you. It makes you feel all warm inside.

But then that crude sense of humour has to go and ruin the moment.

“Anyway,” He smirks, “You already know how big I am. I don't think I need to remind you just yet.”

The way your cheeks heat up immediately is almost as embarrassing as the way your gaze snaps away from his. You just try to act nonchalant about it, shaking your head, “Way to lower the tone.”

“I think it was your dirty mind that lowered the tone, sweet.” Alex laughs and he has you giggling along with him.

It doesn’t take long to get back to the hotel, and you walk in a comfortable silence with your head finally not filled with everything to do with the bar. You just enjoy having his attention back, and that he keeps pulling you back into him, and rubbing the top of your arm in an effort to keep you warm.

You expect the singer to walk you into the lobby and bid you goodnight there before he heads back out to your other friends. But he surprises you, stepping into the lift with you and even when you’re going up to your floor he keeps his arm around you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Thank you for walking me back, you really didn’t have to.” You tell him after he walks you to your door and you get your keycard out of your pocket.

Only when you look at him again does he tell you, “Stop thanking me for being a decent human being.”

You smile at him for a second there, and it is a truly grateful one. Despite everything tonight, you really are thankful he came back with you. If not for your safety, but then at least for your peace of mind about what he was up to when you left. Your chest fills with the hatred of the jealousy you’re feeling once more.

But it’s like the man looking at you can somehow read your emotions. Because he once again flips them on their head when he takes you in again and sees how gorgeous you look in that navy dress and the way it hugs you.

He seems a little breathless as he says, “You really do look incredible tonight by the way.”

You look down at yourself, really not thinking you looked anything more than presentable tonight. But two men have checked you out this evening and seemed pleased with what they saw, and you know Alex well enough now to know that he doesn’t just say these things, he actually means them.

“I- Thank you.” You stumble for a second, but gladly take the compliment.

As you turn to open your door, Alex takes a step towards his, which makes you frown. He’s going to bed?

“You can go back out, you know?” You say before he even takes another step.

You don’t really understand why he’d be going to his room when he could go back out and have a good time with either your friends or the stunning woman he was chatting to. Surely he didn’t just leave because you did?

Alex shrugs, and takes a step back towards you, “Don’t want to.”

“Why?” You can’t help but question, “Looked like you were having a good time.”

“Not that good, I wasn’t spending it with you.” Alex shamelessly flirts as he comes to stand right beside you again, hoping to see you get all flustered.

He adores being the cause of it, and he even likes when you run your mouth back at him and flirt with him too. It makes him happier than he should admit to himself at this point in your little arrangement. But you shock him completely and don’t do either of those things.

No, instead Alex watches as you tense slightly and you become ridged. The smile falling from your face entirely.

“You knew where I was.” You shrug, not knowing what more you could have done. It’s not like you could go up to him and demand his attention, or steal him away and he figures out why and he teases you for it.

You just turn back towards your door and mumble under your breath as you put the card in, “Besides, it seems that you found her quite interesting.”

This has Alex smirking, possibly the biggest he ever has. Not that you can see that smirk as you’re still fumbling about with your keycard and putting it in the door the wrong way. So it gives him a little time to compose himself enough that you won’t hate him when he gets you to look at him again.

You’re jealous. Hence the mood, short replies, and the pout that was just seeping onto your face… It all makes perfect sense now.

Alex tones his smirk down into a slight grin before he get your attention again, “Sweet?”

“What?” You ask, just about managing to open your door before you turn back to him.

And it’s only when you do, you see the way he’s looking at you. His amusement is clear to see, but he doesn’t say anything. He just takes a step close to you, and before you really know it his lips are on yours and he gently eases you backwards until your back is against the heavy door you’ve not opened more than an inch.

It’s a sweet kiss, full of longing and care and words you’ve both yet to say. And the way he gently holds your waist, pulling you against him now, his arm running inside your coat and around your back so he can press you fully against him as his lips move in sync with yours. His hand on your jaw moves that bit higher, so his thumb can caress your cheek and you think this might be the sweetest kiss you’ve ever shared.

It’s gentle and full of emotion, even when his tongue finds home with yours. It makes the both of you hot despite both of your lips softly moving together. Something about it runs deeper, like he’s trying to tell you something without explicitly coming out with it.

His hold on your waist gets that bit tighter which has you melting into him. Unable to stop yourself, you also let out a tiny hum of bliss against his lips and you hold his coat in your fist that bit tighter. This is what you’ve been after all night. This is what you’ve been craving. Him and every last bit of him.

Even when the kiss comes to its natural end, you wish it wasn’t finished. And you’re glad that it doesn’t seem to be. But the man who makes your heart skip a beat says something you really aren’t expecting.

“I’m only interested in sleeping with you.” Alex tells you, before he leaves you with one last breathless kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: What did you think?!?!? NRIACC bestiesssss!! How was it seeing Wheels again?! She's my multiverse I had to hahaha! But how bloody cute are Sweet and Alex, god I adore them so so much. Until next time besties x

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Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist x

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bridenore · 5 months

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HD fic recs : Career - Aurors (part 1)

Here are a few recs where both Harry and Draco are Aurors. This is part one of three and focuses on shorter fics (up to 20k). Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

but first, we fight by @nv-md [8k]

Fighting with Draco Malfoy has never been quite this thrilling…or this frustrating. Harry’s always horny, Draco’s in denial, and there simply isn’t enough time in the day to fight crime and watch your ex-archnemesis wash his arse. Or what it’s like to be in love with Draco Malfoy and have to see him naked in the goddamn shower.

Christmas With Draco by @dracogotgame [9k]

Harry tries to give a two year old Draco the best Christmas ever.

Dark Places by @bixgirl1 [8k]

Harry and Draco have been Auror partners and even friends for the last few years–damn good ones, at that–which is why Harry’s never tried to change their relationship despite his feelings. Until, of course, they’re on assignment and get locked in a wardrobe together. Remix of Leontina’s “Pure Imagination”

Draco L Malfoy (the L stands for legs) by @starquestingfordrarry [1k]

Harry could spend the rest of his life in the embrace of Draco Malfoy’s legs. If he was lucky, he would.

Fall on the Earth by @dodgerkedavra [15k]

Harry Potter hates being separated from Draco Malfoy. Not because he’s in love with him, for Merlin’s sake! Because they’re Auror Partners. One time is all it takes for Draco to be attacked with an illicit potion. Until it wears off, Harry’s job is taking care of his partner. Harry thinks the effects of the potion can’t possibly be as serious as Robards says. He thinks wrong.

Feeling Everything (from lust to truth) by badjujuboo [7k]

The one thing Draco wanted from Harry was the one thing Harry wouldn’t give. But the sex was great

Fool rushes in by oldenuf2nb / @dianacopland [15k]

In a burst of unexplained magic, Harry Potter’s Auror partner Draco Malfoy has simply disappeared. Frantic with worry, terrified that something really terrible has happened to the other man, Harry realizes that what he feels for him just might be more than friendship.

The Great Magic Sex Mushroom Fiasco by @magnolia822 [6k]

Lost in the Siberian wilderness without food, Aurors Potter and Malfoy are forced to improvise, with unexpected consequences …

A House on Fire by @p1013 [5k]

For the last five years, Auror Draco Malfoy has walked into his office with hardly a glance at the illusioned window taking up the back wall. It looks out over an imagined London, a perfectly bright and brilliant view of the city that hides the smog and rain and dirt that clings to the city like a patina of time that can never be worn away. It's always a perfect summer's day with soft, white clouds that float through the painfully bright blue sky like a dream. He likes to imagine the gentle breeze that ripples the surface of the Thames brushing across his skin, since he'll never be able to actually feel it. After all, his office is located on the second floor and is, therefore, underground. Or at least that's what he did before the seventh of October, 2009.

if i could never give you peace by @poisonivy206 [17k]

There are all these bruises on Harry’s memory. A blond boy with a hand outstretched. On a broom. Walking the halls of Hogwarts like a ghost. Climbing up to the Astronomy Tower. On and on, the moments in which Draco Malfoy has cut into him, buried himself in him, until what held Harry together were all the ways in which he wanted to take Draco apart. And now his skin is so close, burning hot, his grip like a vice on Harry’s bicep, on the back of his neck. He smells like the forest, like ashes, like sweat and memories. Eleven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are forcibly brought together by a new case that’s bound to reopen old wounds. Enter a Firewhisky problem, prejudices that never really go away, and an obsession as old as time.

Is This Love? by @phd-mama [3k]

Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.

It Came Without A Warning by @p1013 [5k]

The locker room door had opened, not surprising considering how many other Aurors were involved in the sting, and there was a set of footsteps, ones Harry had learned to recognise over the last three months. “Malfoy?” he yelled. “Is that you?” “Piss off, Potter,” was the exhausted response, and though Harry knew his recalcitrant partner wouldn’t be able to see it, he smiled.

Little Talks by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [11k]

Draco’s been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he’s sure it’s just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Observations by penguin474 [17k]

When his new Auror partner turns out to be Draco Malfoy, Harry isn’t pleased, but there are surprises waiting.

Pinky Promises Are Powerful Magic by megyal [12k]

Ickle Harry wants to stay with his newest hero.

The Safe House by @emmagrant01 [10k]

Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are forced to spend Christmas together in a safe house. Bet you can guess what happens. ;-)

Special Magic by lauren3210 [7k]

Harry was seriously considering the fact that his partner might be completely insane.

Summer Place by @wolfpants [14k]

Draco has the perfect life: a perfect house on a perfect street with his perfect husband. It’s all he’s ever wanted. So why does something still feel wrong?

That which hurts (and is desired) by @shealwaysreads ( onereader ) [19k]

Draco was lying still, and pale, on a bed in a private room in St Mungo’s. The sheets were white, clean, enchanted against stains, vanishing the blood that kept spilling out of him. He hadn’t moved in two days. Not a twitch of his elegant fingers. Not a blink of his fierce eyes. Harry couldn’t even see the faint flutter of his pulse in his throat from where he stood at the foot of the bed, helpless, impotent, furious. There is nothing Harry wouldn’t do for the people he cares about. As it turns out, that might bring him everything he’s ever wanted.

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken [12k]

What are the Wizarding world’s most elite law enforcers doing when they aren’t catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter’s mouth when he’s mid-yawn. This story isn’t about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can’t help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That’s about it.

To Be Out of Your Own (and consumed by another) by @cassiaratheslytherpuff [18k]

By now even Harry recognises the pattern; he’d be an idiot not to. He’ll have sex, and in the moment it’ll be amazing. In the moment he simply is, he feels without thinking. Good, bad, pleasure and pain, he can just let go and feel he isn’t the one in charge. Then he wakes up the next morning feeling disgusting and worthless and swears to never do it again. Still, it helps him forget about his stress, his anxiety and his hopeless crush on his Auror partner so he keeps going back.

What Real Thing? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark [12k]

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

The Way You Say My Name by InnerLilith [5k]

In which Malfoy calls Harry pet names to get him flustered and riled up, and Harry gets flustered and riled up because he secretly likes it. The problem is that Malfoy is only teasing…or is he?

When the Fallout Comes by @maesterchill [7k]

Draco Malfoy, hard-as-nails Hit Wizard, has a secret obsession. Well two of them. Or ten, depending how far that metaphor can stretch. It’s hard to put a finger on exactly when it tipped from the occasional off-hand observation into something more gripping, but suffice to say it’s now getting a touch out-of-hand. Hands. It’s Potter’s hands. He’s obsessed with Potter’s hands.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #theme rec

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devildomwriter · 6 months

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I’ll Have A Blue Christmas Without You | Lucifer x Reader

.5K words | GN! Reader | CW: none

Lucifer eyed the clock for the sixth time in two minutes and sighed. He then checked his watch for the seventh time in five minutes and his foot tapped in irritation as he leaned against the wall.

He was wearing the Christmas sweater you’d gotten him and was holding a glass of demonous in one hand while the other was stuffed in his pocket to stop him from checking his watch for an eighth time.

“That’s a pretty big sigh, you okay bro?” Mammon asked, striding up to Lucifer.

Lucifer’s brows furrowed, he wasn’t sure yet if Mammon was going to be in a caring mood or a conniving mood.

“They aren’t here yet,” he confided and Mammon looked surprised and checked the clock.

“Shit you’re right…weird…” Mammon had been drinking too much to notice it was past the time you said you’d be there.

“This celebration of Christmas is only happening because they wanted to celebrate and they aren’t even here.”

“Service probably ran long, can’t just ignore their family, right?”

Lucifer huffed, “I know…” he wasn’t sure what else to say and awkwardly took a sip of demonous. Mammom also stood in silence with a face of uneasiness you could see clear across the room.

“Without them, there’s no point in celebrating the day our father sent himself to earth in a child’s body no matter how commercially saturated the holiday has become.” This day was just a painful reminder for Lucifer, but not when you were there—Not when you were drinking together, singing winter songs, listening to the Nutcracker ballet, wrapping gifts for his brothers…all of it suddenly meant something to him and none of it had to do with his father.

Mammon shuffled away from the intense atmosphere and Lucifer clucked and took his hand out of his pocket to check the watch again. He sighed and decided to find someplace a bit quieter than the ballroom.

He left down a hallway decorated with red ribbons and holly, he walked far enough that Diavolo’s boisterous laughter became faint.

He looked out the large stain-glass window at the snow drifting to the ground. He took the last swig of his demonous and finally checked his D.D.D. It hadn’t buzzed once which concerned him, but he assumed you were busy with your own family traditions and didn’t want to intrude as he did every other time of the year.

“Lucifer!?” Lucifer’s head snapped around and the grim expression melted from his face as he met your eyes.

You ran towards him, dressed in your matching Christmas sweater and his eyes shone in excitement.

“Lucifer!” You called again as you reached his side.

He called your name happily and scooped you into his arms. He gently set you down after a moment and tilted your chin up so he cools meet your lips. “Mm…” he hummed, content.

All the stress about the holiday was gone in an instant, suddenly he wanted to go back to the ballroom and play all the silly games Diavolo arranged.

“They’re about to start the snowball fight, are you ready?” You asked him pulling him after you by the sleeve of his sweater and he chuckled and handed his empty glass to a butler.

The next time he checked his watch it was the early hours of Christmas morning and you were wrapped in his arms, ensuring the rest of his Christmas would be a happy one.

#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #omswd lucifer x reader #omswd lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me drabble #obey me ficlet #obey me story #obey me mammon

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nico-the-newt · 7 months

Text

Dating Blaise Zabini would include...

Your first interaction being him asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year

And at first you’re just kinda like “huh?” because you had never spoken to this kid in the four years you had been at school

But you somehow find yourself agreeing to go anyway

So you go to Hogsmeade with your friends and buy dress robes and a stupid pair of heels that you could barely walk in

The day of the ball you were shitting bricks and just wondering if you should pretend to be sick and then avoid Blaise for the rest of your schooling

And your friends are just like “fuck that - you are going to the ball and you will have fun”

And to your surprise - you did have fun

It was kinda weird at first, as the only other time you two had spoken was when he had asked you to the ball

But then you started actually having a conversation and it was as if something had clicked

(He had also sat out on the dancing with you when you twisted your ankle in the stupid heels, even though lots of people were inviting him to dance and he obviously itching to go)

It was a lovely night overall and you even shared a peck on the cheek at the end of the night but you didn’t show much interest in each other after that and basically went back to being strangers

That was until the following year when you joined the quidditch team and started reconnecting with him through that

So after a few months of chatting, flirting and training together he asked you on a date and you accepted

And the rest was history

You don’t really get along with each others friends

Your friends think he’s a bit of an arrogant dick and while you don’t deny that, you know how sweet he truly is when its only you two

And his friends are all the popular Slytherin kids so naturally they dislike you

Date nights on Saturdays which ranges from eating dinner on the astronomy tower to getting drunk and seeing how long you could play exploding snap in the library before getting kicked out (high score was half an hour)

Him not being a big PDA person

Not big on cuddles either but will still enjoy constantly touching and holding you (eg. Letting you lean into him or rest your head in his lap, holding your hand, running his fingers through you hair etc.)

Sneaking around for alone time

Its not as if you two don’t have anywhere to be horny idiots you both just get a thrill out of sneaking about

His mother inviting your family over for Christmas during your sixth year and you’re both nervous as fuck

Your parents being a bit iffy about your boyfriend and his mum purely because of the rumours about Mrs Zabini and her many husbands

Only Mrs Zabini is the loveliest person you’ve ever met in spite of her possibly being a murderer

Having a lot of arguments during the beginnings of your relationship because Blaise is bad at addressing his emotions and you’re too good at addressing yours which often ends up in a lot of miscommunications

Encouraging him to open up a bit more which leads to a bit more arguing

As you date for longer you both learn how to read each other a little easier which leads to less arguing

Breaking up during seventh year when you join DA

You both spend the year feeling even more depressed than you already were

Finding him after the fire in the room of requirement

Making up straight away and fighting side by side for the rest of the battle because you both realise that life is too short to not be with each other

And you also both know that theres a high chance of one of you dying

Vowing to never leave each other again after Voldemort is defeated

#blaisezabini #blaisezabinixreader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini headcanon #blaise zabini x reader headcanon #dating blaise zabini would include

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nexa00x · 2 months

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Hellooo, this is a Tokyo Rev ask and I was really interested in the Mikey post u made abt him as a bf realistically since canonically he’s one of the top worst. So i was wondering, what do you think of Keisuke Baji taking number 1 place as best lover? 👀

Hello! Baji is an angel despite his wild personality. I see him as a watchdog, like in that panel in the last timeline when Takemichi meets Mikey and acts like a puppy. He's not interested in a relationship right now, but that doesn't mean he's immune to falling in love or anything.

After doing this, he probably be that guy who stands silently next to his crush in class while blushing, but his scary face makes your subconscious ignore that he's turning red as a tomato. He will probably try 10 times harder to be a good student to impress his crush.

He gets upset with himself when you find out he's in a gang, he thinks it will push you away (it would push me away, but it depends on the person).

He is faithful, either you betray him or one of you stops loving the other, because only then will the love relationship with him end. I feel like he wouldn't want you to get hurt in any way, so he's always tried to hide that he's in a gang to avoid getting in trouble.

Someone like Baji, who despite being aggressive is at the same time affectionate in his own way, and who is willing to do things that many people wouldn't do like suicide is proof that he is not only a good boyfriend, but also a good friend ...actually he's good at everything.

You probably met him thanks to stray animals, or you always fed them or you always went to their pet store. He would probably arrive talking to you about cats and the conversation would flow. Every day you went there to feed the cats and he does that too, not because of you, but because of the cats. But over time it becomes attached to you and ends up appearing there for both you and the cats.

He's the type to behave like an older brother. He doesn't get jealous, he just gets suspicious when someone approaches you. As already stated in the character's book, Baji prefers to resort to violence and before a conversation, this wouldn't change much when you were dating; If he feels like hitting someone who takes up a lot of his time, just prepare your emergency kit to take care of the person he hits later.

I see him declaring himself on an important day like Valentine's Day, Christmas or New Year's, his declaration would have been 100% his and 50% Chifuyu and Ryusei's advice. Baji, like Chifuyu, reads manga, I don't remember if it was here which category he reads, but I'm sure he was inspired by it...

Obviously everything would go wrong. Some delinquent behind him trying to fight, or him simply having brain problems because he forgot what he was going to say. In the end he was only able to declare himself even in serious moments, like moments of near death where he said something like:

"don't give up on me yet, damn it! I haven't even had time to tell you how I feel!"

That alone would be enough for days later for you to talk and resolve the matter and he would simply have to say everything. But that would take years...Baji is a man of steps when it comes to love.

First step would be trust, second would be time, third would be moments together, fourth would be denial of feelings towards you, fifth would be denial and disgust at himself for having these feelings for you, sixth would finally be acceptance of his feelings for you, seventh would be his mental adaptation to all of this, eighth would be gathering courage, and ninth would finally be his declaration. But make no mistake, each stage takes time, in the end only the fourth stage would take a few years.

Baji isn't the physical type either, in fact most Asians aren't very into physical affection. But a hug from him wouldn't bother him, just raise a question in his head.

Him trying hard not to see his mother cry, killing himself for Kazutora is proof that this man would do whatever he could to keep you happy.

He would probably, like Draken, neglect you. the only way to have a perfect relationship with him is to be like him, wild and involved with Toman. Not only would it bring you closer together, but it wouldn't leave you as attention-hungry as our poor Emma.🥺

And these are my thoughts on Baji, if there is anyone with other opinions please let me know, I like talking about it. each person has a different point of view. I was never very close to him, so I only remember a few things...

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers #baji keisuke #baji x reader #baji x you #tokrev

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ramblers-lets-get-ramblin · 6 months

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White Christmas- Dieter Bravo x f!reader- a 12 Days of Pedro Story

Main Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist | 12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Prompt: holiday getaway

Summary: You and Dieter decide to escape the push and pull of your families for the holiday.

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: this is my contribution to @hellishjoel 12 Days of Pedro!

I love this little trash panda and I am always itching to write more for him. shoutout to @wannab-urs and @catchallfangirl for beta reading for me! i love you both so much!

Warnings: oral sex f receiving, unprotected PIV, tummy riding, cumshot, cum eating, inappropriate use of a santa hat, bad family dynamics, face sitting, reader is comfortable wearing lingerie but is otherwise undescribed. I think that's everything. please let me know if I missed something and I will gladly add it!

Immersability: reader is able-bodied

“Goddamnit!” Dieter exclaims when his phone lights up, for what feels like the hundredth time today.

“Your mom again?” you ask. He snorts out a response just as his phone begins to ring again. He tosses the phone over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands. He presses the heel of his palms into his eyes and rubs them back and forth, letting out a deep, weary sigh.

“She just won’t fucking give up.” he groans. His mother had been calling non-stop for the last week. Wanting Dieter to come home for the holidays, for some reason. She had never been very interested in Dieter’s life. She had dropped him off at his grandmother’s house for a girls night out when he was six and hadn’t returned for seven years. By the time she came back, Dieter was in seventh grade, a foot taller and barely remembered her. She also had two kids in tow. She was home for a year that time, her longest stretch, before she inevitably left again. She tried to slide back into the role of mother as if she hadn’t pretended he didn’t exist for more than half of his life. She pretended to take an interest in his schooling, especially once she met the father of Dieter’s best friend. The part that hurt the most, though, was when she left again, she took his brother and sister with her, leaving Dieter with his abuelita once again.

That woman had never had a kind word to say to Dieter in the eight years you’ve been together. According to him, she hadn’t said many before then, either. When Dieter moved to New York to pursue a career in theater, she told him not to get his hopes up. “Only the really special ones make it in that business, baby.” she said, patting his cheek condescendingly. When Abuelita died, she didn’t have a will, so Sofia got the house and Dieter got a warning that he wouldn’t be able to come running home with his tail tucked between his legs if his “little adventure” didn’t work out. It only got worse when he decided to move out to Los Angeles to pursue acting. She’s never believed in him, not for a second of his life. “You’re just like your father. Full of these hopes and dreams that’ll never amount to anything.” she had scoffed. Not that Dieter would know, he’d never met his father. He wasn’t listed on his birth certificate and Sofia only ever referred to him as “that man.” Of course, once Dieter’s career started taking off and his movies started generating buzz, she suddenly became a lot more interested in her son’s life again.

She’s on her fourth or fifth husband these days, neither of you can ever remember. Her collection of various children who don’t know their eldest sibling, have no problem coming to him with their hands out, a trait they learned from their mother. He always gives in, because the alternative is having to listen to endless lectures about how ungrateful he is, and how much he “owes her for raising him.” That’s the only reason she wants him to come, really. So that he can lavish them with expensive gifts. The only reason Dieter even bothers to indulge every few years is because he is fiercely devoted to his nieces and nephews. The kids love to climb in his lap and wrestle on the ground. He plays football on the yard with the boys, and princesses with the girls. Whenever he comes home from a visit you can be sure it will be with a new manicure. He still sends gifts to the kids even when he doesn’t go home. This year, everyone is getting a new iPad.

Not that your family is any less dysfunctional or treats you any better. Nice, boring house in a nice, boring suburb. Obligatory white picket and three-a-day Xanax addiction included. Your parents’ barely concealed disdain for each other and resentment towards the children who prevented them from living their dreams, didn’t stop them from pressuring you to join them for every family function. They have to keep up the perfect, All-American family image. The guilt-trip phone calls every holiday were even worse if you decided to spend the previous holiday with Dieter’s family. She’s been hounding you this week as well, wondering what the neighbors will think when they notice that another year has gone by without an appearance from yours truly. It always causes tension between you and Dieter, too. Neither of you wanting to put up with your families, but also not exactly thrilled to put up with the other’s family either. You don’t even bother to decorate the house for the season anymore. The push and pull from your respective families all but guaranteeing that neither of you will be home to enjoy it.

When Dieter’s ringtone starts playing again, this time from the kitchen floor, you pick it up and take a look at the broken screen. Sofia, again. You roll your eyes and silence the call. You power it off and shove it into your pocket and walk to where Dieter stands leaning forward, his hands braced on the counter. You stand behind him and rest your head on his bare back, between his broad shoulders. You snake your hands under his arms and up his chest. You grip his pecs and press a soft kiss to his skin, between his shoulder blades. He shivers under your touch but you can feel the tension start to ease from his body.

An idea strikes you then. “Hey, Dee. I have an idea, baby.” He reaches up and rests his hands over your own.

“I’ve got a few ideas of my own, sweetheart.” You don’t need to see his face to see the lopsided smirk his mouth is turned up in, or the mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Not that, cabron ” you chuckle, planting another kiss to his skin. He releases your hands and turns to face you.

“What’s your big idea, baby?” he asks. He caresses your cheek with his thumb, his other fingers rest under your jaw, reaching towards the back of your neck.

“Let’s just get out of here. Let’s forget all the family drama and take a vacation.” He tilts his head at the suggestion and you can see his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he mulls over the suggestion.

“Sounds like a plan. I just have one requirement.” You cock your eyebrow curiously.

“What’s that?” you ask.

“I want to go somewhere warm. Somewhere you can wear that teeny bikini I bought you this summer.”

After much deliberation, you and Dieter ended up choosing Barbados for your Destination Christmas. Three thousand hours of sunshine annually, and thousands of miles away from either of your families. You decide two weeks should be long enough for the heat to die down. Why some people lose their minds around the holidays, you’ll never understand. You decide to do some pre vacation shopping, even though you don’t subscribe to the Norman Rockwell version of Christmas, you still live in America. The consumerism and materialism capital of the world. So you still need to find a present for Dee. But what do you buy for the man who can afford anything he wants? The man whose lack of impulse control ensures that he does? Something in the window of a store catches your eye and you step into the boutique. Twenty minutes and one swipe of Dee’s credit card later, you and your little black bag head for the record store. You find the perfect gift for him there. A vintage t-shirt of one of his favorite bands, The Replacements. From their 1990 tour at the Palladium, right before Paul Westerberg left the band for good.

Thankfully you get home from your shopping trip before Dee gets home from his. You take the time to carefully wrap the shirt and stuff it to the bottom of your suitcase, next to your other purchase. You quickly shove your clothes on top, hiding the surprises, just as you hear Dee come in the front door. When he appears in the bedroom he walks straight to your dresser and opens the top drawer. You huff out a laugh when he dangles the tiny black triangles connected by thin string in front of your face.

“You forgot something, baby.” he says with a sly smile. You snatch the bikini from his grasp and drop it on top of the rest of your clothes.

“You should really start packing, Dee. Our flight is early.” you tell him. He lands a swat on your ass before he walks to the closet and digs out his own suitcase.

He groans in your ear when the alarm goes off at 3:30 the next morning, his naked body pressed against yours. “Why did you have to book such an early flight, my love?” He tightens his arms around you when you move to rise from the bed.

“Dee, we have to go!” you squeal with laughter as he gently kisses the back of your neck. “Our flight is at 6:00. There’s a six hour layover in New York. Come on, lazy bones, get up.” you try once more to wrench yourself free from his grasp, but he just holds you even tighter.

“Gimme a kiss, first.” he whines. You turn in his arms and slot your lips between his. He slides his tongue into your mouth and you can feel his cock twitch against your bare thigh. You feel the heat emanating from your core at the mere thought of him sliding it inside of you. Lazy, sleepy morning sex is a fan favorite in your house. But you have a flight to catch.

“Come on, big boy. There’ll be plenty of time for all this once we get to the resort.’ you assure him. You give him a smack on the ass and push him out of the bed.

Fifteen hours and two flights later, you finally arrive in Bridgetown. It’s the middle of the night so you have no trouble getting a taxi. They are all parked in a line outside the terminal. Dee falls asleep on the twenty minute ride to the resort, but you stay awake, watching the ocean whiz by. The salt from the sea permeates the air, even through the windows of the taxi. Even in your exhausted state, you already feel all the stress from the holiday season sleeping away from you. All the pressure to be with people you don’t really like, who don’t really like you. Just you and your guy, on a beach for two weeks. Toes in the sand, drinks in your hand. Nothing to worry about except what restaurant to go to, what shop to hit up. You gently nudge Dieter awake when you arrive at the resort. The taxi driver brings all of your bags into the lobby of the hotel and Dieter pulls a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet.

“Thanks, man. Drive safe.” he says to the man, still wiping the sleep from his eyes. You’d think for someone who travels so often he’d be more used to this. Sometimes, he reminds you of a fully grown toddler. While you give the man at the desk all of your check in information, a bellhop loads all of your luggage onto a gold rolling cart. And by ‘all of your luggage’ you mean your one suitcase and carry on, and Dieter’s three suitcases and two duffel bags. How this man could pack so much truly baffles you. All he ever wears is pajamas, or nothing. It makes you wonder what else he might be hiding in those bags. Maybe he did a little Christmas shopping of his own, you think. Once you get settled into your penthouse suite you send the obligatory “we’ve arrived safely texts. Then you turn off both of your phones and slip into bed. Dieter falls asleep immediately, snuggled into your side. His soft snores lull you to sleep after only a few minutes.

You and Dieter spend the next seven days staying up late, sleeping in and having the laziest hungover sex anyone ever had. You spend your days on the beach, laying in the sun. Dieter naps and you read. Your evenings are spent at a different restaurant every night. None of the bullshit the resort serves. If you wanted to eat chicken parmesan you could have just stayed home. You ask the locals what their favorite restaurants are and their favorite dishes. You eat fish cakes, chicken feet, guava cheese and salt bread. You indulge in all of the local delicacies. Then, you spend a few hours at the resort bar, knocking back drink after drink. You stumble into your room and eat junk food and watch shitty horror movies. You talk for hours, content to do nothing more than just be together. Every other day you turn your phones on for 15 minutes. You respond to texts and Dieter returns calls and emails from his agent and his publicist. Then, they go right back off and are stuffed into the drawer of your bedside table. You can’t remember the last time either of you were this unplugged from the world. You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to go back to your real life. When Dee has to go back to his rigorous filming schedule and you have to return to your own work. You don’t want to waste a single second of this uninterrupted time with him.

When Christmas day rolls around, you and Dieter opt to stay in your room the whole day. Most shops and restaurants were closed for the day anyway. You wake late in the afternoon and decide to take a shower while Dee is still sleeping. You peek over at him before you dig your surprise for him out of its hiding place in your suitcase. You slip quietly into the bathroom and turn the shower as hot as it will go. You take your time in the shower, carefully washing your hair, slowly soaping your whole body. When you step out of the shower you pause and listen, trying to figure out if Dieter is awake. When you hear nothing, you continue with your post shower ritual. You grab two of the resort towels off of the rack, probably the fluffiest towels you’ve ever felt, and wrap one around your body and the other around your head. You move to the vanity where your toiletry bag sits and grab your moisturizer. You apply a thin layer and while it soaks in, you finally open the little black bag you had bought on your shopping trip. You remove the barely there panties, red with a little white trimmed skirt. It came with a matching cut out bra, if it could be called that. It took you three tries to get the red satin triangles positioned just right. Finally, you pull out the cherry on top, so to speak. Pasties with red satin bows. Once you’ve wrapped yourself in the expensive lingerie, you tie the terry cloth robe tightly around your waist, lest the surprise be ruined. You give yourself a final once over in the mirror and pull the door open.

Dieter is awake. He’s sitting against the headboard with his arms folded behind his head. Seems like he had a similar idea as yours. He cock stands proudly at attention, and it's wearing a little Santa hat. A noise of surprise escapes your mouth and you can tell by the look on Dee’s face, he got the response he was hoping for.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” he drawls, voice still gravelly from sleep.

“Funny,” you say, “I got a present for you to unwrap, too.” Dieter raises an eyebrow in curious interest.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Why don’t you come over here and let me open you up?” He scoots down to the edge of the bed and spreads his legs wide. You saunter over to him, letting the tension build between you, keeping your hand tight over the knot of your robe. Once you’re standing between his thighs, he grips both of your hands in one of his large ones. He presses a soft kiss to them and drops them down at your side. He unties the knot at your waist and lets your robe fall open. His breath hitches in his throat when the terry cloth falls down your shoulders, offering him a peek of your exposed skin. He reaches up and shoves the fabric the rest of the way off. “Holy shit, baby. Is all this for me?” he asks, trailing a finger down the center of your chest, between the swell of your breasts. He rests his head against the softness of your stomach, his breath causing your body to light up with desire. You thread your fingers through the curls at the crown of his head and pull him closer still. “Merry Christmas to me.” he whispers, lightly licking just under your belly button. A shiver courses through your veins and you give his hair a slight tug. He moans against you at the sensation and reaches up to cup your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart and drags one of his fingers between them, until it comes to rest at your clothed core. The fabric is already wet and warm with your desire.

Dieter slips his finger under your panties and swipes it through your folds. He gently nips at the same spot he was just licking. “Fuck, Dee.” you groan out into the air, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings right back into your ears. Dieter growls against your skin and removes his hand from your panties.

“Get over here.” he says wickedly and pulls you into his lap. You wrap your legs around his waist and start to settle in. “Nuh-huh.” he protests. He lays back on the bed and grips your ass tightly. When he pulls you forward onto his belly, you figure out what he’s after. But before you give in, you decide to take something you want from him first. You plant your hands on his chest and your clothed cunt on the soft swell of his tummy. “What are you up to?” he asks, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“This,” you say as you grind down on him, “is my favorite part of your body.” You can feel his happy trail through your soaked panties, the coarse hair there providing you with the friction you need so badly. His hands move to your hips and he pulls you even further onto his stomach. You work your hips up and down, back and forth. You can feel the soft trim on his Santa hat bobbing against your ass. You can see the muscles of his throat work as he swallows. His jaw tenses and he moans loudly.

“Fuck yes, baby. Use me, mama . Take what you need.” he urges. Seeing how turned on he is by this sends you over the edge.

“Dee,” you pant. “I’m so close.” He stills your hips and when you protest, he responds ,

“On my mouth, baby. I need it. Need to taste you.” he practically begs. You slide your panties down, lifting one leg at a time until you can slip them off. You shuffle up the bed on your knees, dragging your bare, dripping pussy across his abdomen and chest. You hover over his face and he wraps his arms around your thighs. He pulls you down to his mouth, the scruff on his cheeks scrapes the inside of your thighs, but you relish the burn. He flicks the tip of his tongue lightly, but quickly, across your clit. The motion turns your bones into jelly and you fall forward, catching yourself on the mattress. You’re already so worked up that it only takes a few expert swipes of his tongue before you are falling apart all over him. He pulls you even tighter to his mouth as he works you through with his tongue.

Once the aftershocks have passed, Dieter lifts you from his mouth and wiggles out from under you. He rises from the bed and stands at the foot of it. You are still on your knees with your hands planted on the mattress. Dee grips your hips and pulls you backwards towards him. You let out a yelp in surprise and he chuckles. “I can’t wait anymore, baby. I need to be inside you right fucking now.” he says, removing one hand. You see something fly over your head. The miniature Santa hat lands on the pillow in front of you. “Ready for me?” he asks. You barely begin to nod as you feel him press the head of his cock against your warm, wet cunt.

“ Fuck , Dee. Yes, papi .” you reply. He enters you slowly, but steadily, until your still sensitive walls fully engulf him. He lets out a low hiss when his hips meet the soft curves off your ass. Your hands fist the sheets when he starts thrusting. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, leaving just the tip inside of you, and buries himself to the hilt with every stroke. He fills you up completely every time, completely wrecking you. You wouldn't be surprised to get a noise complaint from resort staff with the way you scream for him. The animalistic growls he makes reverberate in your ears, and soon his pace begins to falter. He pumps once, twice, three times before he quickly pulls out of you. The front half of your body falls flat on the bed, your ass still sticking up. You feel the warm spurts of his come hit the cheeks of your ass. He grunts as he strokes himself and paints your skin with his spend. When he’s finished, he admires his handiwork.

“Looks like we ended up with a white Christmas after all, huh?” he laughs. You groan at his idiotic, but typically Dieter remark and lower your legs to the floor. You stand and try to hurry into the bathroom to clean up but Dieter stops you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with your own. He grabs the meat of your ass, not caring that it's still sticky with his come. When he releases your mouth, he brings his fingers to it. His eyes light up when you take two fingers into your mouth, down to the knuckle, and suck them clean. You wink at him and walk into the bathroom, feeling his eyes on you every second of the way.

Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, you remove the expensive lingerie and put on your favorite pair of leggings and one of Dieter’s t-shirts. Dee has dressed himself as well, kinda, he never leaves home without his ratty, sage green bathrobe. He’s sitting on the suite’s couch, scrolling Netflix for something to watch. You pause to rifle through your suitcase, pulling out the black plastic bag from the record store. You stuff it in your armpit and join him on the couch. Dieter pulls you in close to his cheat and kisses you on the forehead. “Thank you for my present. You looked so fucking hot like that.” he eyes you up and down. “You always look so sexy.”

You pull the bag out from under your arm. “I did get you a real present, ya know?” you shove the bag into his hands. His face lights up before he even opens the bag. When he pulls the shirt out and shakes the wrinkles from it, tears spring to the corners of his eyes.

“You remembered.” he whispers. Dieter had mentioned the show to you on your first date.

“If you could go back to any point in your life and relive it, when would it be?” you had asked.

“The last time I saw The Replacements live.” he responded with no hesitation. “I’d go back and watch it sober, revel in the finality of the moment instead of being too fucked up to even remember it the next day.” he slips his arms out of his robe and pulls the shirt on over his head. He lands a soft, but deep, kiss on your lips. “I love it, mamita. ” he says. His hand disappears into the comically large pocket of his robe. “I got a little something here for you, too.” he says. He opens his hand and a small velvet box rests in the palm. Your eyes flicker from his to the box, and back again.

“Dee, what is this?” you ask. You and Dieter had decided years ago that you didn’t need to get married. Nothing about a wedding or a marriage certificate would add anything to what you already share together. With Dieter’s notoriety, any ceremony you had would be a dog and pony show, a media zoo. He pushes the box into your hand and you open it. There’s a small gold, heart shaped charm inside. It matches the others on the anklet Dieter got you for your third anniversary. There’s a capital “D” in script font on one side. You roll your eyes when you turn it over and get a look at the other side. Engraved in the gold is an eggplant emoji.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” he says. You close the box and set it on the coffee table. You snuggle up under his armpit and he tightens his arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you, Dee. I love it.” you say, snatching the remote from his hand. You scroll through a few titles before finally settling on one.

“Scandal again?” Dieter pouts. You ignore him and press play. Your time here in your perfect little bubble is running out. Soon enough you’ll be back to L.A. and Dieter will be off to Germany for his new movie. You plan on soaking up every second of bliss you can get out this vacation.

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