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a-lexia11 · 2 months

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Meeting in Barcelona (part 1)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning: slow burn but like painfully slow… fluff, tiny angst

Words:Around 9k

Summary: You relocated to Barcelona for a new job as a third-grade teacher. During this time, you met and fell in love with your colleague's sister.

Note: Most of the dialogues are in Spanish because I really wanted to practice it since I feel like I’m losing it so yeah…but don’t worry there translation!

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Barcelona is the city where I have always wanted to live. It's truly the city of my dreams. How can you not love a place where it's always warm, the people are welcoming and friendly, and the food is exceptional?

That's why, after living in New York my whole life, I decided to quit my job as a third-grade teacher and pursue my dream of living in Barcelona.

I have always had a deep love for teaching children; it is one of my greatest passions. I truly enjoy imparting my knowledge to these young humans.

That's why I accepted a job as a teacher for third grade children in Barcelona.Living in my dream city and doing my dream job—what more could I ask for?

I've been studying Spanish for some time in preparation for my move. Although Spanish people talk rapidly, I'm managing quite well.

My parents supported my project. Initially, it was a bit tough for them to accept that I was moving out since we're a close-knit family, but in the end, they backed me up.

“Just give me a call once the plane land, okay?" My mom squeezed me so tightly that I could barely breathe. “Sure, Mom, I will” I replied, attempting to break free to hug my dad, who was patiently waiting his turn.

We were currently at the airport, and I was bidding farewell to my parents before departing for Barcelona.The day before, I had already said my goodbyes to my best friends, Madison and Carter, who are also my only friends. It was an emotional day, filled with tears and heartfelt moments.

After my mom finally let go, I turned to my dad. “I'll miss you, butterfly” my dad affectionately said. He always called me that because butterflies are my favorite insects.

“I'll miss you too, Dad” I responded as we separated and he kissed me on my forehead.

“Alright, I'll give you a call once I land. Love you guys” I informed them, grabbing my suitcase handle.

My mom wiped away her tears and said, “We love you too, baby. Take care of yourself.”

“I will” I assured her before making my way towards the boarding gate.

——

As the plane touched down at the airport in Barcelona, a wave of excitement washed over me. Stepping off the aircraft, I was immediately greeted by the warm Mediterranean air and the bustling energy of the terminal. The vibrant city awaited me, with its promise of rich culture, stunning architecture, and delicious cuisine. With a sense of adventure, I collected my luggage and made my way through customs, eager to explore everything Barcelona had to offer.

I decided to take a taxi to my new apartment in downtown Barcelona, time to try out my Spanish, I guess.

“¡Hola! Disculpe, ¿estás disponible?” (Hello! excuse me, are you available?) I asked one of the many yellow taxi drivers waiting in front of the airport.

“Sí, sí, estoy disponible. ¿Necesitas un viaje?” (Yes, yes, I'm available. Do you need a ride?) he asked, already stepping out of the car. “Si,por favor” (Yes, please) I replied, and he helped me with my suitcase, placing it in the trunk.

We got into the car, and I gave him the address of my new apartment. Shortly after, we arrived there. I paid the kind driver and said goodbye to him.

As I headed upstairs, I sent a quick text to my mom, letting her know I had landed and made it to the apartment.

I paused at the door, rummaging through my bag for my keys. After finding them, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling my suitcase behind me. I made a beeline to the couch and collapsed onto it, utterly drained from the seven-hour flight.

A little nap would not hurt anyone I suppose, so I got comfortable on the couch,laying down, and closing my eyes.

After a while, I’m awoken by my phone ringing. I jump a little, startled, and pick up the phone, seeing that it’s my mom calling me.

My mom's voice came through the phone, “I told you to CALL me, not TEXT me.” I laughed a little, “Mom, it's basically the same thing.” “No, it isn't!” she insisted. “Anyway, you finally made it. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, Mom, everything's great. The apartment, the weather, the people—everything's just perfect!” I responded cheerfully.

“I'm so happy to hear that, sweetheart” my mom said. “And you know what they say about Barcelona—it’s the city of love and romance. You might just find someone special there” she added excitedly.

“Ugh, Mom, not this again” I replied, feeling slightly exasperated. My mom has this thing about my love life, always eager for me to meet someone.

“What? I'm just saying! Plus, Spanish people are as hot as the weather there” she commented dreamily . I grimaced, “Eww, okay, Mom, I'm going to hang up now. I need to unpack! Love you and Dad! Kisses” I said, making kissing sounds. She echoed my words and hung up.

I wandered through the apartment, well-acquainted with it from my numerous visits. I went to my bedroom, set my suitcase on the bed, and began unpacking.

In the midst of unpacking, my phone rang, and I saw it was a call from the principal of the school where I will be working,Valeria.

"Hola"(hello) I answered the phone. “Hola! Y/N es Valeria” (Hi! Y/N It's Valeria!) she replied. “How are you?” she continued in English.

“I'm doing great, and you?” I asked her.

“Estoy fantástica, gracias. Llamaba para ver cómo estás. ¿Tu viaje fue bueno? ¿Te estás acomodando bien?” (I'm fantastic, thank you. I was calling to check on you. Was your trip good? Are you settling in properly?) she asked.

“Sí, muchas gracias. El viaje fue muy agradable y me estoy acomodando bien.” (Yes, thank you very much. The trip was very pleasant, and I'm settling in well.)

“¡Veo que tu español ha mejorado desde la última vez que hablé contigo! Has estado trabajando duro.” (I see that your Spanish has improved since the last time I talked to you,you’ve been working hard) she said

“Gracias, y sí, he estado estudiando y tratando de mejorar mi acento sin descanso” (thank you and yes I’ve been studying and trying to improve my accent non-stop) I laughed a little.

“That's good, so I'll leave you be. I'll be waiting for you on Monday to introduce you to all your future colleagues and your co-teacher” she said once again in english.

“Okay, no problem. I can't wait. I'll see you on Monday” I answered.

“Yes, I'll see you on Monday. Have a good evening” I echoed her words and hung up the phone.

——

After a while, my stomach started rumbling. I don't have any food right now, so I'll handle errands tomorrow. I'm too tired to run errands and prepare food.

I made the decision to venture out for some food, and during the taxi ride earlier, I happened to spot a charming little restaurant that caught my eye.

Being my first night here, I wanted to try something authentically Spanish, like paella.

So, I took a quick shower, threw on some comfy clothes, and left my apartment.

After wandering around and getting lost twice, I finally made it to the restaurant.

The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the cozy, rustic atmosphere created by the wooden tables and colorful tiles. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling cast a warm glow, while the delicious scent of paella and tapas filled the air. Vibrant flamenco posters and traditional pottery decorated the walls, adding to the place's charm.

The restaurant was bustling with activity, creating a lively and vibrant atmosphere that filled the entire space with an infectious energy. Diners chatted animatedly at their tables, the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation blending into a harmonious background noise. The warm lighting and the aroma of delicious food added to the inviting ambiance.

A kind waitress greeted me warmly and escorted me to a table, assuring me that she would return shortly with the menus.

While I was busy taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, the door swung open. At that moment, I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her presence was captivating, and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty.

She stood tall, around 5'8" or 5'9", with dyed blonde hair. Her hazel eyes and adorable smile were captivating. She wore a long denim skirt with a side slit, paired with a white crop top and a small leather jacket. Large hoop earrings completed her look.

She was accompanied by a shorter, older blonde woman who bore a striking resemblance to her. I assumed she must be her mother.

The same waitress who had greeted me now welcomed them with a warm smile and guided them to their table, which happened to be quite close to mine. As they walked in my direction, I could feel my heart race a little.

Not wanting to appear like a creepy person staring at the woman, I quickly averted my gaze and pretended to be deeply interested in the cutlery in front of me.

The waitress guided them to the table right next to mine, ensuring they were comfortably seated. She informed them with a warm smile that she would return shortly with their menus.

About a minute later, the waitress returned with menus for both my table and theirs, placing them in front of us with a friendly smile. She instructed me to give her a signal once I had decided what I wanted to order.

I thanked her and opened my menu, eager to see what the restaurant had to offer. The variety of dishes was impressive, with many options that made my mouth water. After carefully considering all the tempting choices, I finally decided to go with the classic traditional paella, a dish I had always enjoyed.

I saw the waitress and, as she had instructed, I signaled for her to come over. She approached and asked, “¿Ya sabes lo que vas a pedir?” (Are you ready to order?).

“Sí, ¿podría tener la paella, por favor?” (Yes, could I have the paella, please?) while looking up at her.

“Claro, ¿y qué te gustaría beber?” (Certainly, and what would you like to drink?) she inquired, writing down my order in her notebook.

“Solo agua, por favor.” (Just water, please) I replied.

“No hay problema, estará listo en breve.” (No problem, it will be ready shortly) she said, collecting the menus and giving me a friendly smile as she walked away.

I could sense someone’s gaze fixed on me, so I instinctively turned my head and found myself locking eyes with the beautiful woman sitting to the table next to me.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she responded with a gentle smile before returning her attention to the menus in front of her. In that brief moment, my mind wandered, fantasizing about what our future children might look like. Yes,Yes you can call me delusional.

A few moments later, the waitress returned, carrying my steaming paella and a carafe of water. She carefully placed them on the table in front of me and, with a warm smile, said, “Buen provecho” (Enjoy your meal) I thanked her and she walker away.

As I take my first bite of the beautifully presented paella, I can't help but let out an internal moan of delight.It's undoubtedly the best paella I've ever tasted.

As I continued to eat and occasionally stole glances at the woman beside me, a man came over to my table. His hands gripped the chair in front of me tightly.

“Hola, aquest seient està ocupat? Puc agafar aquesta cadira?” (Hi is this seat taken, can I take that chair?) He asks, in what I assume is Catalan.

Well shit, I don’t understand Catalan.

“Umm… what?” Out of instinct I started to speak english “I…lo siento pero no entiendo” (I…I’m sorry but I don’t understand) I continued.

Before he could repeat himself, the woman at the table next to me, speaking with a distinct Spanish accent, kindly interjected, “He want to know if he can take the chair.”

“Oh,si,puedes tomarlo” (Oh, yes, you can take it) I said looking back at him. He smiled gently at me, took the chair, and walked away. I then turned to the two women at the next table.

Looking at the woman who had helped me, I said, “muchas gracias” (thank you very much) with a grateful smile. She nodded in acknowledgment and smiled back at me.

“Eres inglesa?” (Are you English?) the other women, who I assumed is her mother, asked me “Soy estadounidense” (I’m American) I answered.

She smiled at me and said “Te escuché hablando con la camarera, tu español es muy bueno. ¿Vives aquí?” (I heard you speaking with the waitress, your Spanish is very good! Do you live here?) she continues.

“ Gracias y sí, me mudé aquí oficialmente hoy” (thank you and yes,I officially moved here today) I told her with a big smile.

“Bienvenida a Barcelona” (welcome to Barcelona) she said smiling warmly at me.

“Muchas gracias” (Thank you very much) I told her looking at her, I then turned to the other women who was looking at me with a shy smile, I smiled back and went back to my paella.

——

After finishing my paella, I asked the waitress for the bill. She brought it over, I paid, and then stood up. As I was leaving, I smiled at the two women nearby and said, "Have a good evening." They smiled back and echoed my words in Spanish.

As I’m walking out of the restaurant, I can't help but steal one last glance at the beautiful woman, hoping to catch a final glimpse of her captivating beauty before leaving and probably never seeing her again.

To my surprise, she was already looking at me. Our eyes met, and I couldn't help but smile. I waved goodbye, and she mirrored my gesture with a warm smile of her own.

Once I got back to my apartment, I quickly changed into my pajamas and headed straight to bed. Exhausted and ready to sleep, I put my phone on charge and lay down. I couldn't help but think about the woman at the restaurant. She was incredibly beautiful and had such charisma and presence. With thoughts of her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The following day, being a Sunday, I decided it was the perfect time to run some errands. I needed to stock up on food, so I took a shower, had breakfast, and left the apartment.

One of the perks of living where I do is that everything is within walking distance. Luckily, the store is not too far away.

Once I got there, I started picking up my groceries. After spending over 45 minutes shopping, I was finally done. I walked back to my apartment and began putting everything away.

The rest of the day was quite laid-back; I spent my time watching TV and having conversations with my parents and Madison over the phone.

Eventually, I grew restless and decided to take a walk.Locking my apartment door, I ventured out into the bustling streets of Barcelona. After wandering for a bit, I stumbled upon a charming park. I decided to enter and found a cozy spot on one of the benches, where I could sit and enjoy watching people play with their dogs and children.

Suddenly, a small, fluffy dog appeared in front of me and began barking. It was the cutest dog I had ever seen. I knelt down in front of it and said, "Hi there! How are you?" in a playful tone, not really expecting a response. The dog started jumping up and down, licking my face. I giggled and stroked its soft fur.

"Nala! Nala!" I heard a woman's voice calling out for the dog. As she came into view, I was stunned—it was the beautiful woman I had seen at the restaurant yesterday. I could hardly believe my eyes.

The woman approached and carefully picked up her dog. “Lo siento mucho” (I’m so sorry), she said, looking down at the dog in her arms. "Está bien, no te preocupes" (It’s okay, don’t worry), I replied. She looked up and gave me a gentle smile, and from the expression on her face, I could tell she recognized me.

At that moment, I noticed the height difference between us. Standing at 5'4, I wasn't very tall. She was dressed in a Barcelona tracksuit, her blonde hair flowing freely, and her sunglasses resting atop her head.

"Your dog is very cute," I said to her in English. Since she had translated for me what the man said in English yesterday, I assumed she speaks the language. And maybe, I also just wanted to hear her charming accent when she spoke English. There was something captivating about the way her words flowed, and I couldn't help but be drawn to it.

“Ah, thank you she really is but she also like to not listen to me” she said in a broken english. I giggled a little at her remark.

“Can I pet her” I said gesturing to the dog in her arms, “yes of course” she responded. As I start caressing her dog I could feel her gaze on me,I look back up at her and smile softly which she returned.

"The paella was good?" she asked suddenly. I was so mesmerized by her eyes that I didn't register her question. "Huh?" I responded, feeling a bit foolish. "The paella you had yesterday, was it good?" she repeated, sounding a bit awkward and shy.

"Absolutely, it was absolutely delicious! The most exquisite paella I've ever tasted," I expressed with a wide smile directed at her.

“My name is Y/N by the way" I introduced myself, extending my hands for a handshake. Her hands, large and soft, gently enclosed mine as she replied, "I'm -."She got interrupted by her phone ringing “oh! Un momento,lo siento” (just a moment,I’m sorry) she said as she reached for her phone.

I stepped back to give her some privacy. She quickly ended the call and turned back to me, saying, “It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now. My sister is waiting for me.” I nodded understandingly and replied, “Oh, it's okay, really. It was nice meeting you too.”

She flashed me a warm smile before turning to walk away. As she moved further down the path, she turned around once more, catching my eye. She sent another smile over her shoulder and waved at me, making my heart skip a beat as I watched her retreating figure disappear into the distance.

Shit! She never told me what her name was…

After about ten minutes, I made the decision to head back home. It was getting late, and my stomach was starting to grumble with hunger.

When I arrived back at my apartment, I decided to whip up a quick meal of ramen noodles. I settled down in front of the TV, enjoying my dinner. As the clock approached 10 pm, I realized it was time to get some rest. Tomorrow marked the beginning of my new job, and I was pretty exited about it.

I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth, preparing for bed. After plugging in my phone to charge and settling an alarm, I lay down, my mind still occupied with thoughts of that woman.I still can’t believe that I did not get her name.I found myself drifting off to sleep thinking once again about her.

——

I woke up to my alarm blaring and let out a groan. I rolled over, blindly reaching for my phone to shut it off.

After rubbing my eyes, I dragged myself to the bathroom for a quick shower. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and picked out a casual outfit.

I headed to the kitchen to whip up a simple breakfast. Once I was done eating, I grabbed my stuff and headed out.

The school where I was starting my new job was pretty close by. A short bus ride later, I found myself standing in front of the building, ready to take on the day.

I made my way toward the entrance of the building and stepped inside. The secretary greeted me with a friendly “Hola” as I entered.

“Hola, soy Y/N, la nueva profesora. Tengo una cita con Valeria.” (Hello, I’m Y/N, the new teacher. I have an appointment with Valeria) I informed her.

She smiled warmly and responded, “ Ah sí, Y/N, te estábamos esperando. Solo un momento, le avisaré a Valeria de tu llegada” (Ah yes, Y/N, we were expecting you. Just one moment, I'll notify Valeria of your arrival) I thanked her, and she got up and walked away.

"Good morning, Y/N," I heard from behind me, and I turned to see Valeria approaching with a wide smile on her face. "How are you?" she said in English, kissing both my cheeks.

Valeria is such a sweet and welcoming person. I've had the pleasure of meeting her numerous times, both in person and over video calls, to ensure I was well-prepared for my new job. Our conversations often lasted for hours, and through these interactions, we became quite close, almost like friends. Her warmth and friendliness have made this transition much easier for me.

“Hi Valeria, I'm great, thank you! How about you?”I asked her. “I'm amazing. Let's go talk in my office” she replied. I nodded in agreement and followed her, taking a moment to thank the lady at the entrance as well.

“So, how was your first weekend in Barcelona?”she inquired as we stepped into her office, her thick Spanish accent unmistakable. “It was wonderful! I went out and had the most amazing paella ever” I responded enthusiastically. She laughed and said, “I'm sure you did.”

I took a seat in front of her desk. “Alright, let's get down to business” she said. “The children are excited about the arrival of their new teacher, and your co-teacher is also eager to meet you”she informed me.

“I'm looking forward to meeting them as well”I replied. As we continued our discussion about my upcoming responsibilities, a knock on the door interrupted us.

“Entra” (Come in) Valeria shouted. The door swung open, and a woman about my height, with long, flowing brown hair, stepped into the office.

“Hola” the woman greeted us, and I responded with a smile. “Ah, Alba, estás aquí. Me gustaría presentarte a Y/N.” (Ah, Alba, you're here. I would like you to meet Y/N) Valeria said as Alba approached me. I stood up from my chair and extended my hand for a handshake.

“Encantada de conocerte, soy Y/N Y/L” (Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Y/L/N) I introduced myself warmly. She took my hand and offered a radiant smile.

“"Es un placer conocerte, Y/N. Soy Alba Putellas."(It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Alba Putellas)

We released our handshake and both took our seats again, facing Valeria. Valeria began to outline how we would collaborate in the classroom with the children. She provided detailed guidance on our roles and responsibilities, and offered valuable advice on effective co-teaching strategies.

——

After approximately an hour of reviewing all the necessary information, it was time for the children to start school. “Vale, entonces, te dejaré ahora, Alba. Te permitiré guiar y explicar a Y/N cómo funciona todo aquí.” (okay so, I’ll let you go now, Alba I’ll let your guide and explained to Y/N how everything works here) she said looking at Alba, she smiled at me and answered “por supuesto!” (of course).

We both stood up. Valeria then wished me well in english, “Y/N, good luck on your first day, and I’ll see you at the end of the day.” I nodded, expressing my gratitude, and said my goodbyes to her before heading out with Alba.

Throughout the entire day, Alba has been incredibly helpful and understanding. She assisted me whenever I needed help and translated for me whenever I couldn't understand a child.

We shared lunch together and discovered that we have a lot in common. Not only are we almost the same age—I’m just a year older—but we also enjoy the same activities. We both have a passion for shopping and listening to music, among many other interests.

I can already tell that we are going to become amazing friends.

The children were absolutely adorable and exhibited a remarkable level of patience, which is quite unusual for kids. I suppose it might be a trait in the Spanish genes.

At the end of the day, the parents came to pick up their kids from the classroom. Alba and I stayed behind to tidy up.

"Tía ¿Qué haces esta noche? (Girl, what are you doing tonight?) Alba asked as she bent down to pick up some papers and threw them in the trash.

“Nada” (Nothing) I replied.

“¿Quieres cenar juntas? Hay un nuevo restaurante de sushi que acaba de abrir, y quiero ir alli.” (Want to grab dinner? There's a new sushi restaurant that just opened, and I've been wanting to check it out)

“¡Amo el sushi! ¡Me encantaría ir!" (Oh, I love sushi! I'd love to!) I responded with enthusiasm.

Suddenly, Valeria appeared at the door. “Hola chicas!” (Hello, girls) she greeted us, and we returned the greeting. She turned to me, “I just came here quickly to ask you how was your first day?” She asked in english.

“It went really well. Alba was super helpful, and the kids were adorable. Everything went smoothly” I answered.

“I'm happy to hear that, now I’m sorry but I have a lot of meetings so I have to go” Valeria said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Adios, chicas!” We echoed her words as she left the room.

Once Alba and I finished we gathered our things and exited the school.

“¿Dónde estás estacionado?”(Where are you parked?) She asked me , “No tengo coche todavía, tomé el autobús para venir aquí.” (I don’t have a car yet, I took the bus to come here) I answered.

“¡Oh, ven conmigo entonces, puedo llevarte a casa!” (Oh,come with me then I can give you a ride home) she told me “¡Oh, no quiero molestarte! Está bien, de verdad, puedo tomar el autobús.” (oh no I don’t want to bother you it’s okay really I can take the bus)

“¡No, no, no! No voy a dejar que mi futuro mejora amiga y colega favorita tome el autobús. Vamos, te llevaré a casa, no me importa en absoluto.” (No,no,no I’m not going to let my future best friends and favorite colleague take the bus, come on I’ll drop you home I don’t mind at all)

I was hesitant at first, but eventually, I nodded in agreement. Together, we walked towards her car. She unlocked it, and we both got inside, ready to head home.

“A ver, dame tu dirección” (Okay,give me your address) I gave it to her “¡Qué casualidad! ¡Yo también vivo cerca de ahí, a solo cinco minutos! (What a coincidence! I live near there, like 5 minutes away) she exclaimed happily.

“¿En serio? ¡Eso es el destino! Estábamos destinados a conocernos y convertirnos en casi vecinos” (Really? That’s faith! We were meant to meet each other and became almost neighbors) I joked and, she giggled.

After a short drive filled with Karol G’s music we finally arrive in front of my apartment.

“Te recogeré alrededor de las 9, ¿está bien para ti?” (I will pick you up around 9, is it okay with you?) She asked.

“Sí, está bien, ¡gracias por el viaje!” (Yeah that’s fine, thank you for the drive!) I responded as I exit the car. “¡No hay problema, nos vemos esta noche!” (No problem, see you tonight!) She says excitedly and drove away.

I made my way up to my apartment and decided to get some work done in preparation for tomorrow's class.

——

After about an hour of hard work, my parents called me. They were eager to hear about how my first day of school went and if I had managed to make any new friends, almost as if I were the student rather than the teacher.

I shared everything with them, telling them about Valeria and Alba, and how I was planning to go out with Alba tonight. “Wow! Not even a week in Barcelona and you've already managed to get a date! Good job, butterfly” my dad exclaimed enthusiastically.

“ Dad, no, it's not like that at all! She's just a friend and a colleague. It's not professional” I tried to clarify.

“Sure, honey... just a friend” my mom said with a suspicious tone. “Ugh, you guys are so annoying” I muttered, rolling my eyes at them.

After ending the call, I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up and change into a new outfit.

Alba arrived promptly at 9 o'clock and honked several times to signal her arrival. We really need to exchange phone numbers.

I locked my apartment and made my way to Alba’s car. “Bueno, bueno, cuánto tiempo sin verte, amiga” (Well, well, long time no see, friend) she joked, which made me giggle.

After a brief drive, we arrived at the sushi restaurant. Alba parked the car, and we walked towards the entrance together.

A friendly waitress greeted us at the door, escorted us to our table, and handed us the menus. We placed our orders, and the food arrived fairly quickly, allowing us to dive into our meal without much wait.

“¿Hablas o entiendes al menos un poco de inglés, o tendré que hablarte siempre en español?” (Do you speak or understand at least a little bit of English, or will I always have to speak to you in Spanish?) I joked, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled and replied, “¡Lo siento, pero no, no inglés!” (Sorry, but no, no English!)

Alba then shifted the conversation, “Entonces, cuéntame sobre ti” (So, tell me about yourself) I smiled and asked, “Bueno, ¿qué exactamente quieres saber?” (Well, what exactly do you want to know?)

“Pues, todo, donde vivías, tienes hermanos?…” (Well, everything where do you used to live, do you have any siblings) she’s responded.

I told her that I was born and raised in New York, a city where I have spent my entire life. I mentioned that I do not have any siblings. I also expressed my long-standing dream of living in the vibrant city of Barcelona, a place that has always fascinated me. Additionally, I conveyed my deep passion for teaching.

“¿No tienes novio o novia?” (You don’t have any boyfriend or girlfriend?) She asked teasingly “no, no novio o novia”(no, no boyfriend or girlfriend) I replied.

“Estoy segura de que encontrarás a alguien especial aquí” (Ooh, I have no doubt you'll find someone special here) she exclaimed enthusiastically. “Sí, tal vez” (Yes, maybe) I responded.

“Sabes, tengo bastantes amigos solteros, y mi hermana también está muy soltera”(You know, I have quite a few single friends, and my sister is very much single too) she added with a mischievous grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

I giggled “No, gracias, no me interesan tus amigos ni tu hermana, pero ¿sabes qué? Conocí a una mujer durante mi primer día aquí” (no thank you,I’m not interested in your friends or your sister, but you know what I’ve met a women during my first day here)

Alba's eyes lit up with curiosity “Bueno, cuéntamelo todo. ¿Quién es ella? ¿Cómo la conociste? (Well, tell me everything! Who is she? How did you meet her?) she asked eagerly.

I hesitated, feeling a bit uncertain. “Pues... no lo sé realmente” (Well... I don't really know) I admitted.

Alba's brows knitted together in confusion. “¿Qué quieres decir con que no lo sabes?” (What do you mean you don't know?)

“Quiero decir, no sé quién es ella.” (I mean, I don't know who she is) I explained.

“La vi por primera vez en un restaurante y pensé que era increíblemente hermosa. Luego, al día siguiente, la volví a ver en un parque. Intercambiamos algunas palabras, pero fue muy breve. Así que, sí... no sé su nombre ni nada sobre ella” (I first saw her at a restaurant and thought she was incredibly beautiful. Then, the next day, I happened to see her again at a park. We exchanged a few words, but it was really brief. So, yeah... I don't know her name or anything about her)

Alba smile in amusement “¡No puedo creer que tengas un pequeño “crush” por alguien cuyo nombre ni siquiera conoces!” (I can’t believe that you have a little crush on someone whose name you don’t even know!) She said laughing.

I made a funny face at her, then tossed one of my chopsticks in her direction, and playfully stuck my tongue out at her.

Her phone then rang, “un momento por favor, es mi hermana” (just a moment please, it’s my sister) I nodded at her and continue eating my sushi but I still heard her conversation.

“Que quieres Ale?…si…si..ok no problema…si.. escucha estoy comiendo con mi amiga, te llamaré más tarde,te quiero,adios” (What do you want Ale?..yes…yes..ok no problem..yes..listen I’m eating with my friend right now, I’ll call you back later,I love you,Bye) she said to her sister and hangs up the phone.

“¿Ahora, dónde nos habíamos quedado?” (Now, where were we?) she asked playfully, raising her eyebrow.

——

We spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other better. She shared stories about her mom, Eli, her late father, and her sister, Ale although she did not say much about her.

Eventually, we finished our meal and decided it was time to go home. We got into her car, and she drove us back. Once we arrived at my apartment, we exchanged numbers, and she insisted on picking me up for work the next morning.

I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, asked her to text me once she got home safely, and then stepped out of her car.

I did my night routine and went to bed, scrolling through my phone.I received a text from Alba.

Alba: ¡Estoy en casa a salvo, no te preocupes, nadie me mató!😉

(I’m home safely,don’t worry no one killed me!)

I chuckled at her messages and wished her a good night.

——

I’ve been in Barcelona for a full two weeks now, and to be honest, not much has changed. Alba was kind enough to introduce me to some of her closest friends, who turned out to be really nice and welcoming. It’s been great getting to know them.

However, there’s still no sign of that mysterious woman. I have to admit, I’ve visited the park multiple times over the past two weeks, hoping to see her again, but unfortunately, she hasn’t shown up. I think it might be time to move on and let go of the idea of meeting her again.

On a brighter note, Alba and I have grown much closer. We spend almost all of our free time together, and she’s been coming over to my place nearly every day.

Today, being a Saturday, Alba and I decided to go shopping together. We spent the entire afternoon wandering through various stores, and enjoying each other’s company. I absolutely love spending time with her; she’s genuinely the nicest and sweetest girl I’ve ever met.I feel incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful friend by my side.

Alba, on the other hand, has been complaining non-stop because I made her walk instead of taking the car. She’s been whining about it all afternoon.

“Si hubiéramos tomado mi coche, ya estaríamos en casa ahora mismo” (If we had taken my car, we would already be home by now) she whined for what felt like the hundredth time.

“¡Caminar es bueno para ti, Alba!” (Walking is good for you, Alba!) I said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. She glared at me with a look of pure annoyance and retorted, “No, no lo es. Mis pies me están matando” (No, it’s not. My feet are killing me.)

We finally arrived in front of Alba’s apartment building after a long day. She turned to me and asked, “¿Te gustaría quedarte un rato?Mi hermana va a venir, me gustaría que la conocieras.”(Would you like to stay for a while?My sister is coming over,I’d like you to meet her.) I appreciated her offer but politely declined.

“No, gracias. Tengo mucho trabajo que debe terminarse antes del lunes ¡Conoceré a tu hermana otro día!”(No, thank you. I have a lot of work that needs to be finished before Monday.I’ll meet your sister another day!)

She nodded understandingly and then asked, “Está bien, no hay problema. ¿Te gustaría que te lleve a tu casa?” (Alright, no problem. Would you like me to drive you to your place?)

I smiled and shook my head. “No, no te preocupes. Deja que tus pies cansados descansen” (No, don’t worry about it. Let your tired feet get some rest) I replied reassuringly.

She laughed softly, and we shared a warm hug. She kissed me on both cheeks, and with a final wave, we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I walked home, and as I got closer to my apartment, I started rummaging through my bag, searching for my keys. Distracted and not paying attention to where I was going, I accidentally bumped into someone dropping all my shopping bags.

“Oh my God! Lo siento mucho!” (I'm so sorry!) I exclaimed, looking up to see who I had collided with.

There she was.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Standing before me was the beautiful woman I had been inexplicably obsessed with for the past two weeks.

“Y/N?” she said, recognizing me instantly. Oh my God, she remembered my name.

“I... hi!” I responded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I'm really sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“It's okay, do not worry about it” she reassured me with a smile. I took a moment to take in her appearance; she looked amazing. Her hair was down, and she was wearing a white cap, denim jeans, a white long-sleeve shirt, and a sleeveless vest.

I bent down to retrieve my bags, and she kindly assisted me in gathering everything. “Thank you” I said, expressing my gratitude once we had collected all the bags, and she handed them to me.

“You're welcome” she replied with a gentle smile. “You really did a lot of shopping” she added with a soft laugh, and I couldn't help but smile at her comment.

“Yes, I did. My friend definitely influenced me to buy quite a bit” I explained, and she laughed along with me.

“Well, it was really nice seeing you again, Y/N. I have to go now because my little sister is waiting for me” she informed me, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

“Oh, okay, sure. Have a wonderful time with your sister then!” I replied, offering her a soft smile. She returned the gesture warmly and began to walk away, her steps light and hurried.

“Wait!” I called out impulsively, unable to let the moment slip away. She turned around, a look of mild confusion etched on her face.

“You know my name, but I don't know yours” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Ah, si es verdad. Me llamo Alexia” (Ah yeah,that’s true my name is Alexia) she responded, her tone friendly and open.

“Okay, Alexia, that's a beautiful name!” I exclaimed, genuinely appreciating the sound of it. She smiled broadly at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.

Boosted by a sudden surge of confidence, I found myself asking, “Can I maybe have your number? You know, so we can stay in touch or maybe become friends...” My voice trailed off, the initial bravado giving way to a touch of nervousness.

She looked at me with a sympathetic expression and gently said, “Umm... I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea” her words kind yet firm, smiling pitifully at me.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I felt my cheeks flush with color. “Oh, it's okay, really... um... have a nice day” I mumbled, not waiting for her response.

I turned and walked away quickly, my heart pounding with a mixture of regret.

——

As I stepped into my apartment, a wave of intense embarrassment washed over me. I couldn't believe I had decided to be confident. Why, oh why, did I think that being bold would lead to anything good? Look where it got me—feeling utterly humiliated and regretful.

I made a solemn vow to myself that I would never, under any circumstances, bring up this humiliating moment again.

To help myself forget, I decided to immerse myself completely in the stack of paperwork that was piled up on my kitchen table. I hoped that by diving into the work I could push those embarrassing memories to the back of my mind and eventually erase them altogether.

——

On Monday, Alba arrived to pick me up for work. At this point, it had become a well-established routine; she would come to get me every morning and ensure I got home safely every evening. This daily ritual had become an integral part of our schedules, making our commutes together a regular and comforting part of my day.

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at me for a second before turning her eyes back to the road “Has estado muy callado esta mañana” (You've been very quiet this morning) she continued, her voice gentle but probing.

Truthfully, I was not okay. My mind was still preoccupied with the sting of rejection from Alexia last Saturday. It had been a difficult weekend, and my thoughts were consumed by what had happened. Yes, I am an overthinker, and I couldn't help but replay the moment over and over in my head, analyzing every details and wondering what went wrong.

Even though Alba has quickly become one of my closest friends here in Barcelona, I want to move past what happened, so I’d prefer not to share it with her.

“Estoy solo cansada, nada demasiado grave.” (I'm just exhausted, nothing too bad) I said, flashing her a gentle smile in an attempt to put her at ease. She seemed skeptical, but thankfully, she didn’t press for more details.

To comfort me, she placed her hand on my thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Parecía que todos se sentían decaídos” (It seemed like everyone is feeling low) she sighed heavily. “¿Por qué? ¿Qué pasó?” (Why? What happened?) I asked her.

“Mi hermana conoció a esta chica, y aunque no la conoce muy bien, la encontró muy atractiva. Sin embargo, siente que debido a su trabajo, no puede salir con nadie en este momento... así que esencialmente se está impidiendo encontrar el amor.”(My sister encountered this girl, and although she doesn't know her that well, she found her very appealing. However, she feels that because of her job, she can't date anyone right now... so she's essentially stopping herself from finding love) She told me looking kinda sad for her sister

“Eso es realmente desafortunado. ¿Qué tipo de trabajo tiene tu hermana que le impide encontrar el amor?” (That's really unfortunate. What kind of job does your sister have that prevents her from finding love?) I inquired.

“Ella es futbolista profesional, y su agenda está llena de entrenamientos y viajes.” (She's a professional footballer, and her schedule is packed with training and traveling) she explained.

“¡Wow , ¿es futbolista profesional? ¡Eso es increíble! ¡No puedo creer que nunca me lo hayas mencionado antes!” (Wow, she's a professional footballer? That's amazing! I can't believe you never mentioned that before!) I exclaimed, giving her a slightly reproachful look. “Pero es realmente lamentable que ella sienta que no merece amor solo por su carrera tan exigente” (But it's really unfortunate that she feels she doesn't deserve love just because of her demanding career)

“Sí, lo es, pero afortunadamente para ella, tiene a la hermana más increíble que la llevará a salir esta noche y la ayudará a olvidarse de todo eso. ¡Noche de hermanas!” (Yes, it is, but fortunately for her, she has the most amazing sister who will take her out tonight and help her forget all about it. Sister night!) Alba declared proudly.

“¡Sí! La mejor hermana del mundo” (Yes! Best sister ever) I responded with playful sarcasm, matching her enthusiasm.

“Solo estás celosa porque no tienes la oportunidad de tener una hermana como yo” (You're just jealous because you don't get to have a sister like me) she teased, giving me a pinch on the thigh where her hand had been resting.

I laughed, turned up the radio, and started singing along to Lana Del Rey.

——

It’s been a month since I’ve been in Barcelona now, and everything has been absolutely perfect, well, minus the rejection incident from Alexia…

Work has been exceptionally good, and with the generous help of my parents, I was finally able to purchase a car, which has made life so much easier.

Alba and I have grown closer than ever. Our bond is very platonic and sisterly, and she’s been eager for me to meet her family. She especially wants me to meet her sister, with whom she shares a very close relationship, from what I understand.

That's why, at this very moment, I'm seated at a cozy bar with Alba and four of our friends. We're eagerly waiting for her sister to join us, and I'm looking forward to meeting her.

If her sister is even half as nice and amazing as Alba, I'm sure I'm going to absolutely love meeting her. I'm really looking forward to it, especially since Alba has set such a high standard with her wonderful personality.

“Alba,donde está Ale, tengo hambre!” (Alba, where’s Ale? I’m hungry) Bianca, one of Alba’s friends who has also become my friend, asked Alba with a slight whine.

“Acaba de enviarme un mensaje. Su partido duró más de lo esperado y ahora tiene algunas entrevistas que hacer, así que llegará un poco tarde.” (She just texted me. Her match went on longer than expected, and now she has some interviews to do, so she’ll be a bit late) Alba responded, her eyes fixed on her phone as she typed back.

Bianca giggled a little and said, “Ah, no hay descanso para La Reina.” (Ah, no rest for La Reina.)

From what I understand, Alba’s sister is an exceptional football player, which is why she’s called “La Reina.”

Honestly, I haven’t looked up much about her since I find football really boring and I hate it.

“Vale, ¿entonces supongo que podemos pedir algunas bebidas?” (Okay, so I guess we can order some drinks then?) Marco, one of our other friends, asked.

“Sí, vamos a pedir. Ella no estará aquí por un rato” (Yes, let’s just order. She won’t be here for a while) Alba responded.

We all picked up the menus and decided on our drinks and some food too. After a few minutes of discussion and suggestions, we placed our orders with the waiter. The atmosphere was lively as we chatted and laughed, waiting for our orders to arrive.

About thirty minutes later, I got a call from my best friend Madison, which is odd since she usually texts, she doesn't call.

I excused myself from the table and stepped outside where it's quieter.

Answering the phone, I heard a frantic Madison, “Where are you, girl!?”

Confused, I replied, “What do you mean, where am I? I'm in Barcelona. Are you drunk?”

Madison's voice was joined by my other best friend Carter, “No, we're not! We're outside your apartment, but you're not here.”

Shocked, I exclaimed, “WHAT! What do you mean you're outside my apartment? You guys are in Barcelona?!”

Excitedly, Madison confirmed, “Yes, baby, we are!!! We wanted to surprise you, but you're not at your place. Where are you?”

Realizing the situation, I quickly said, “Oh, I'm at a bar with some friends. I'll say goodbye and be there in 10 minutes.”

“Okayyy, we'll wait! Hurry up” Madison replied before hanging up.

I made my way back inside the bar, feeling a mix of emotions.

“¿Está todo bien?” (Is everything alright) Alba asked me, concern evident in her eyes as she saw me returning to the booth where we were all sitting.

“Sí, todo está bien” (Yes, everything is fine) I assured her, “pero tengo que irme” (but I have to leave) I added.

“¡No! ¿Por qué? Ale me envió un mensaje y me dijo que llegará pronto.” (No! Why? Ale texted me she’ll be here soon) she informed me, frowning.

“Lo siento mucho, pero mis amigos acaban de llamarme y están en Barcelona. Fue una sorpresa, y ahora están esperándome frente a mi apartamento.” (I’m really sorry, but my friends just called me and they are in Barcelona. It was a surprise, and now they are waiting for me in front of my apartment) I explained, feeling a little bad.

“¡Está bien, ve a ver a tus amigos! Ya la conocerás otro día.” (That’s okay, go see your friends. You’ll meet her another day) she replied, understanding and supportive.

I went around the table to give each one of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek, saying goodbye.

As I left the bar and made my way through the parking lot to my car, I was so eager to see my friends again that I wasn't paying attention and almost got hit by a car. Luckily, the driver stopped just in time.

I turned towards the car, a black Cupra, and gestured with my hand to apologize to the driver. Although I couldn't see the person clearly, I could tell it was a blonde woman.

She gestured back to let me know it was okay, and I continued on to my car.

After a 10-minute drive, I arrived at my apartment and saw Madison and Carter waiting in front of the building.

"Hey!" I called out, waving excitedly. They looked up, grinned widely, and ran towards me, calling my name repeatedly.

I laughed and met them halfway. We hugged and jumped around, thrilled to see each other after a month.

“Alright, let's head Inside” I suggested as we made our way back to the building.

“How long are you planning on staying ?” I inquired. “Just a quick 3-day visit” Carter responded. I grinned, “I'm so excited you guys are here! I've got so much to tell you”

After they freshened up and changed into more relaxed outfits, I filled them in on my Barcelona adventures, sharing stories about Alba, my friends, work, and life in the city.

“So, any luck in the love department?” Carter teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Not quite” I confessed, feeling a tad embarrassed, "there was this girl, but she rejected me when I asked for her number."

Madison and Carter exchanged glances before erupting into laughter. I shot them a mock glare, “Not funny, guys” playfully hitting them with a pillow.

“It's funny” they both said simultaneously. I huffed at them and give them the finger.

After their laughter died down, Carter reassured me, “Don't worry, there are plenty of other fish in the sea; you'll find someone else.” Madison chimed in, “Yeah, that girl doesn't know what she's missing.”

“Thanks, guys! I love you” I said, smiling softly at them. “We love you too” they responded, and I jumped on them hugging them tightly.

——

Those three days flew by so quickly, but we had an amazing time nonetheless. They met Alba and her friends, and although the language barrier posed a bit of a challenge, we managed to get by.

Naturally, we went shopping, hit the beach, and enjoyed the nightlife—basically all the fun things you can do in Barcelona.

When it was time to say goodbye, I dropped off Madi and Carter at the airport, giving them tight hugs and receiving their promise that they would visit again soon.

——

“¿Qué vas a hacer el sábado por la noche?”(What are you doing on Saturday night?) Alba asked me as we enjoyed our lunch break at school.

“No mucho, ¿por qué?” (Not much, why?) I replied, taking a bite of my pasta.

“¡Ale está jugando y tengo entradas! ¡Por favor, ven conmigo!” (Ale is playing, and I got tickets! Please come with me!) Alba pleaded.

“Alba, sabes que no me gusta el fútbol.” (Alba, you know that I don’t like football) I said.

“Lo sé, y a mí tampoco, pero es mi hermana la que juega. Es una gran oportunidad para que la conozcas” (I know, and neither am I, but it’s my sister playing. It’s a great chance for you to meet her) she explained. “Además, después del partido, vamos a cenar con mi mamá, y también puedes conocerla an ella.” (Plus, after the match, we’re going out to dinner with my mom, and you can meet her too.)

I considered it for a moment. “Okay, pero solo porque voy a conocer a tu familia.” (Alright, fine, but only because I get to meet your family) I agreed. She cheered and leaned over the table to give me a kiss on the cheek.

——

I was in my apartment with Alba, getting ready to go to her sister's game—Barcelona against Real Sociedad. According to Alba, it should be an easy win.

“¡Oh! ¡Tengo un regalo para ti! No te pongas una camiseta.” (Oh! I have a gift for you! Don't put on a shirt) she exclaimed, standing up from the couch and heading towards her bag.

She pulled out a Barcelona jersey.

“¿Qué es eso?” (What's that?) I asked, examining the jersey. “Es la camiseta de mi hermana. Mira, ese es su nombre en la parte de atrás.” (It's my sister's jersey. Look, that's her name on the back) she said, turning the jersey around so I could see. It had Alexia written with the number 11 below her name.

That name brings back some embarrassing memories...

“Espera, pensé que el nombre de tu hermana era Ale” (Wait, I thought your sister's name was Ale) I said, confused.

“No, "Ale" es su apodo, su nombre real es Alexia.Ale no es ni siquiera un nombre real” (No, Ale is her nickname. Her real name is Alexia. Ale isn't even a real name) she explained as if it were obvious.

“Bueno, para mi era real. ¡Tú y todos tus amigos la llamaban así!” (Well, it was real to me! You and all your friends called her that!) I replied.

“Sí, porque ese es su apodo. ¡Todos la llaman así! De todos modos, aquí, póntelo. ¡Es para ti!” (Yes, because that's her nickname. Everyone calls her that! Anyway, here, put it on. It's for you) she said, handing me the jersey.

“¡Oye! ¿Por qué tengo que usar uno yo y tú no?” (Hey! Why do I have to wear one and you don't?) I complained.

“¡Porque es el primer juego que verás en persona! Necesitas experimentar todo al máximo.” (Because it's the first game you'll see in person. You need to experience the full thing) she said excitedly.

I rolled my eyes but put on the jersey anyway.

“Vamos mi amor” (Let's go, my love) she said excitedly and slapped my butt. I laughed at her and grabbed my bag as we exited my apartment and headed to the stadium.

Once we arrived at the stadium, we settled into our seats, which were quite close to the tunnel where the players come out.

While Alba was preoccupied with her phone, I took in the atmosphere of the stadium, noticing that many fans were wearing jerseys with Alexia's name. She must be an exceptional player for so many people to sport her jersey.

“Tengo hambre, voy a buscar algo de comida. ¿Quieres algo?” (I'm starving, I'm going to grab some food. Do you want anything?) Alba asked as she stood up from her seat.

“No, gracias” (No, thanks) I replied, glancing up at her. She nodded and walked off.

Lost in my thoughts, I was suddenly brought back by the sound of cheers from the crowd. Turning my head, I saw players emerging from the tunnel for their pre-match warm-up.

The cheers grew even louder as a blonde player stepped out. I couldn't see her face, only her back and her blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

When she turned around to greet the fans it felt like time stood still. There she was, the woman who had turned me down!

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, so I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. What is happening?I- I’m speechless. So I got rejected by a famous football player then… great…

I can't believe it. Alexia is a football player and a very famous one. She—

Wait... Alexia... Alexia... Ale—Oh my God, are you kidding me?! Alba's sister is Alexia, my Alexia??? The woman I thought about almost every night before bed and who rejected me!

Alba came back with her bowl of popcorn in hand, but I was so shocked I couldn't move... How the heck did I not realize this before?

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, noticing my state. "No" was all I could respond.

She put her hand on my thigh. “Que paso? (What happened?) she asked. I looked her in the eyes.”Tu hermana es Alexia” (Your sister is Alexia) She frowned. “Sí, te lo dije” (Yeah, I told you that) she replied.

“Alexia es la chica de la que te hablé esa noche en el restaurante de sushi,la que encuentro al restaurante, la que me pareció hermosa pero de la que no sabía nada...” (Alexia is the girl I told you about that night at the sushi restaurant, the one that I met at a restaurant and I thought was beautiful but knew nothing about...) I said, looking her in the eyes.

“¡¿Qué?! ¿Eres la chica por la que ha estado deprimida durante semanas?!” (What?! You're the girl she's been depressed about for weeks?!) she practically screamed, surprised.

#woso community #woso #woso soccer #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso appreciation #woso x reader #women’s football #futfem #fcb femení #alexia putellas imagine #woso one shot

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

#spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown imagines #hobie brown x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader

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pellucid-constellations · 3 days

Text

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?”

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?”

“Not particularly.”

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn.

The third sigh was your breaking point.

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.”

“Oh, well in that case—”

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily.

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?”

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.”

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind.

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…”

Mor trailed off.

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?”

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.”

“Tell me anyways.”

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.”

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—”

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.”

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap.

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault.

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you.

But it was this.

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been.

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.”

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence.

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door.

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock.

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that.

“Hi.”

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes.

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be.

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…”

“No, I—Come in.”

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room.

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked.

Something inside of you hurt.

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.”

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched.

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n. I care about you more than anything—I love you.”

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?”

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?”

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin.

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—”

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—”

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.”

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—”

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair.

Gods, you missed him.

You missed him and everything hurt.

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change.

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.”

“You can, angel.”

“I need to know that you love me.”

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze.

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.”

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.”

“I love you.”

"I know you do, Az. I know."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel x y/n

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buckets-and-trees · 20 days

Note

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob au #bucky barnes fanfic #female reader #devour au #aspen wrote something #2200 followers celebration #askpen #kink: breeding #kink: food play

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wandascosmic · 11 days

Text

enough for you

wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: in which your girlfriend natasha makes you feel like you're never enough. (based off enough for you by olivia rodrigo)

word count: 2069

tags: angst, toxic relationship, insecurity, arguments, cheating, reader feels unloved (and unworthy of love), poor reader can never catch a break, cryptic mention of reader's mother being dead, self- hatred, reader's so sad, nat sucks (like a lot), but wanda comes through at the end like she always does and they have a little meet-cute :), i wrote this in one sitting while listening to enough for you on a loop

part two: so american

You sigh as you try to do your makeup in your mirror as flawlessly as possible. Every blemish or mark on your face needed to be covered up so you could look perfect for Nat. You were desperate to measure up to the gorgeous women Nat has dated before you and for that, you needed to look absolutely pristine.

In the past year, you’ve done so many new things you weren’t fond of just for Nat to like you. From nearly destroying every single muscle in your body at the gym just to measure up to her rigorous exercise routine, all the way to learning how to cook and bake every single one of her favorite foods until it was all you two ever ate despite your dislike for the majority of her preferred meals, you’ve tried so hard to be everything that Nat liked so she wouldn’t get sick of you.

You frown slightly, Nat has never once acknowledged your kind gestures and actions, nor reciprocated them.

“I’m just not the compliment type, Y/N, just drop it,” she had told you one time when you had confronted her on why she never acknowledged your efforts.

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded wordlessly.

***

“I made you your coffee,” you told Nat as she entered the kitchen in the morning. 2 creams, no sugar, just how you like it.

Nat nodded and took the mug from you, sitting down at the table and barely paying any attention to your gesture.

Clearing your throat, you tell her, “I also got up early this morning to buy tickets for us to go to that band I know you’ve been wanting to go to for a while.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping for her to tell you you’re good enough for her just this once.

“Sorry, babe, Carol already got them for me,” she responds, your heart falling to your stomach. Putting her empty mug in the sink, she plants a kiss on your lips. “Besides, you don’t even know the lyrics to their songs.” She leaves you on your own in the kitchen.

I know all of them by heart because of you.

***

“Hey, Y/N?” Nat asks you one night on the couch.

“Yeah?” you respond, turning to face your girlfriend.

“I don’t really feel like myself these days.” Nat pauses. “Do you know what might help?” Despite the content of her question, you still smile, because this was your chance. This was your chance to show her that you might truly be worth loving.

“First, I’m always here if you need to talk,” you say softly, but Nat makes no sound of acknowledgment next to you. “And second, make your own decisions you believe will be beneficial to you, just for yourself, and do the things that bring you fulfillment,” you explain.

Nat finally turns and looks at you thoughtfully. “How did you figure that one out?”

“I read your self-help books,” you reply sheepishly. I read all of them.

“Wow, you’re pretty smart,” Nat replies, going back to the movie the two of you were watching together.

And you smile for the rest of the night because that’s the first compliment Nat has given you since you first started dating a year ago.

***

You and Nat had a fight. It isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time it’s hurt you this much as you truly take in your current reality.

You’re crying in your shared room, Nat leaving you to go out for drinks you assume.

Earlier tonight, you made the stupid mistake of asking why she was never there for you, it was during the heat of the moment, but your outrage felt justified due to the fact that she missed your award ceremony for your article in medical research (the third time this year she’s missed one of them but you did your best to forgive her before this), and she had simply scoffed at you telling you that it wasn’t even a big deal anyways.

But this one was a big deal to you.

It was research that could have saved your mother.

“I nearly get killed every time I go out on the job, Y/N! Some stupid neuroscience article is nothing compared to that!” she yelled at you, exhausted from her day at work.

Your eyes flooded with hurt as Nat’s filled with regret.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” she said remorsefully.

The first sign of remorse she’s ever shown you.

“It’s fine, Nat,” you reply, trying to keep your tears at bay. You weren’t even in neuro, but that didn’t matter. Not to her. “Just go out, like you wanted.” You wave her off to go upstairs to your room.

“Y/N, wait-”

You didn’t listen, shutting the door before collapsing to your knees as you started to sob.

Stupid, emotional, and obsessive. That was what you were.

***

Nat has been home late for the past few nights, your worry increasing with each passing day. It’s probably something to do with work, but something feels off.

“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she enters the front door. “I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I just got held up at work,” Nat doesn’t make eye contact with you.

“Oh, okay,” you say softly, feeling oddly small compared to your girlfriend. “Couldn’t you have called?”

“For god’s sake, Y/N, my phone was dead. God, you’re so clingy,” Nat bites back, walking past you to go straight up to your room and slamming the door.

You sigh, heading for the guest room since you know Nat won’t let you sleep next to her tonight.

Suddenly, you hear Nat’s phone go off. And you realize that she had left it by the front door.

Picking it up, you notice, that it’s at nearly full charge.

Your brows furrow as you see the message your girlfriend received.

Carol: Had a great time tonight, Nat.

You don’t stop crying until the sun rises, one phrase ringing through your head the whole night.

What are you doing wrong?

***

“Am I not as interesting as the girls she’s dated before me?” you cry to Yelena as she rubs your back in comfort.

“My sister is an idiot,” Yelena mutters, seeing how your relationship with Nat is tearing you apart.

“What?” you choke out through your tears.

“I think you love her more than anyone she’s ever had, and she couldn’t care less.”

“She’s breaking my heart, Lena,” you sniffle. “But more than that, she’s breaking me.”

You cry harder into your best friend’s arms.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” you sob into her shoulder.

***

“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she comes home past midnight once again.

“I was at the compound, we had a villain that got out so we had to take care of him.”

You nod, but Tony already sent you the camera footage for tonight after you told him about your issues with your girlfriend and you know she was with Carol.

“Are you sure?” you inquired.

“Yes, Y/N,” Nat says exasperated. “For god’s sake, why are you never satisfied with whatever I do?” she says walking past you.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you tell Nat from behind her.

“What?” she says, turning around to face you.

“You’re never satisfied with me,” you state. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to be good enough for you, but nothing I ever do for you seems to make you happy.”

Nat scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know you were with Carol tonight,” you reveal.

“No, I wasn’t,” she denies.

“Tony sent me the footage, I know there was no villain. I know you’re cheating on me, and I know that you never cared about me,” you state.

“Fine, whatever, I’m going to bed,” Nat says, completely disregarding you and everything she’s done to destroy the person you once were.

“We’re done, Nat,” you tell her as she walks up the stairs to your once-shared room.

Nat waves you off like you’ve never meant anything to her.

And maybe you never did.

***

“I loved her so much, I still do, and all she did was use me, then throw me away like I meant nothing to her,” you tell Yelena at the drink bar. Nat was away on a mission, so Yelena thought it might be fun for you to join her at one of the Avengers parties.

“Don’t worry Y/N,” Yelena tells you. “I could tell her to apologize to you, but clearly she’s got some issues to figure out within herself before she can resolve any outside.”

You nod wordlessly.

What Yelena says then surprises you, “But honestly? She should be the one feeling sorry for herself.” You look at her curiously. “Someday, there will be someone out there who will love you as deeply as you love them.”

“I don’t know, Lena,” you say softly. “Nat was everything to me.”

“Someday, Y/N, you’ll be everything to somebody else.”

***

1 year later

You’re running late for work, rushing out the door of the coffee shop, and you don’t notice the fact that you’ve bumped into someone until your coffee spills all over the floor, making you gasp.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” you tell the figure in front of you, and suddenly you freeze, at the sight of her glimmering emerald green eyes. Like Nat’s, but eternally softer. Eternally more curious.

“Oh, no worries,” she says with a smile, pulling a few napkins out of her purse.

“I didn’t spill any on you, did I?” you ask the woman, your mind a mess due to your embarrassment at spilling your coffee, but still quite fuzzy at the sight of her undeniable beauty.

If you weren’t so much of a useless homosexual, you would bend down and help her clean the coffee she’s currently wiping away. Much like how she’s wiping away your ability to form any sort of cohesive thought.

“No, I’m ok,” she laughs, standing up once more once all the coffee’s gone. “C’mon, let me buy you a new one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, no, it’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s completely my fault for bumping into you-”

“I want to,” she cuts off with a soft smile.

“Oh,” you say softly. “Okay,” you finally resign to the comforting look she gives you.

“Let me just make a quick phone call,” you let her know, hoping she doesn’t leave.

“Take your time,” she assures.

You smile gratefully.

Your phone call was to call in sick to work for the second time in your life –you didn’t have a busy day today and you were running late anyways– and it was all to spend time with a pretty girl.

On any other day you’d probably laugh at how pathetic you were, but this woman made you feel an odd sense of uncertainty within your life.

Like nothing had ever made sense before her.

Once you hang up the phone, you turn to see the woman already standing there, a white to-go coffee cup with a bit of steam escaping the spout.

“Here’s your coffee,” the woman hands you the cup with a big smile as you pocket your phone. You inspect the label, your mouth parting slightly in shock once you see all of your preferred customizations. Done perfectly.

“How do you know my coffee order?” you ask.

“I took the label off the old one,” she says, showing you the sticker in the palm of her hand. “Want to sit?” She points to the array of round tables within the cafe.

“I don’t even know you,” you say slowly. I called in sick to work for you, it’s a little too late for that.

The brunette woman laughs before holding out her hand for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Wanda,” she says.

“Y/N,” you respond, shaking her outstretched hand as your face flushes slightly at its softness.

“See? Now we know each other,” Wanda says cheekily.

You nod with a shy smile, following her to the table in the back as the two of you settle down into a small conversation.

Somehow, the two of you spend the rest of the day talking and laughing, and you think it might be the best day of your life.

Little do you know, Wanda thinks so too.

part two: so american

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wandamaximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel mcu #mcu #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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nocreativityfornames · 8 months

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Everything we know about Barbatos so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He lives in the Demon Lord's Castle with Diavolo and works as his loyal butler. (swd: 2-13)

➤ He's one of the demons who share a pact with Solomon. (swd: 2-A)

➤ According to Mammon, he has a secret torture room beneath the castle from where you can hear the screaming of his victims at night. The other brothers and Diavolo were in the room when he told this to MC but none of them batted an eye or tried to deny it. (swd: 6-19)

➤ Before, citizens of the Devildom were allowed to easily travel to the Human World whenever they wished through passages placed in certain locations in the kingdom, but now those passages are blocked and the only way demons can use them is by getting permission from the few other demons who are still allowed to use them freely first. Barbatos is one of said demons. (swd: 11-4)

➤ He has the ability to time travel thanks to his powers that allow him to create a portal to any place, time and reality he wants. (swd: 15-17 and 53-11)

➤ He was the one to take MC back to the past when they made a deal with Diavolo to figure out who had opened the attic door and released Past!Belphegor in exchange for Present!Belphegor's freedom from being imprisoned for conspiring against the exchange program. (swd: 15-17)

➤ He looked into MC's bloodline under Diavolo's request once the prince realized there was something special about them, and it was then that he found out that they were Lilith's distant descendant. (swd: 16-15)

➤ In response to MC asking him if he knew everything that would happen with Belphegor getting out of the attic before it occurred Barbatos said that no, he didn't know, and even further said: "Imagine for a moment what it would be like to know everything that will happen from now until the end of time. Why nothing could possibly be more boring, wouldn't you agree?" (swd: 15-17)

➤ His main way to use his powers to "space travel" is through the many doors in his room in the Demon Lord's Castle. (swd: 15-17)

➤ He was never a child. (swd chat: The Royals, “That's What I Mean”)

➤ He met Solomon a long time ago when the sorcerer risked death to summon him (swd: 53-16), desperately needing his powers to control time for reasons that are still unknown. (swd: 49-A)

➤ He gave Solomon his grimoire out of trust and respect for him. (swd: 53-16)

➤ It's a big rumor around the kingdom that he's powerful enough to rival even the Demon King himself. (swd: 54-1)

➤ He met Diavolo when the prince was still a child and Diavolo got Barbatos to work for him by luring him into the castle with the promise of very rare tea and then telling him that he wouldn't let him leave unless he agreed to be his butler, getting to the point of even threatening to not assume his position of king in the future if the older demon refused to. And telling this story to Thirteen, Barbatos confessed to having found the whole thing very cute. (swd: 58-A and nb: 15-A)

➤ When it hit the news that he had sworn allegiance to Diavolo the whole kingdom was in shock and it was THE THING everyone was talking about. (swd: 54-1 and nb: 15-1)

➤ He has been around for a long time and shows up in historical records under multiple different names. Rumor has it he was alive even before the Devildom took shape. (nb: 15-1)

➤ When asked about Diavolo in a conversation with MC, he told them that the prince is the very reason for his current existence. (swd: 54-5)

➤ Narrated by Solomon in the Nightbringer Prologue Movie we hear the story of a certain demon, it goes: “Once upon a time, there was a demon who could see both past and future. With a flurry of trumpets from his king, the demon appeared. Finding a lost human the demon whispered: 'I can take you to where you'll be happy.' Through their tears, the human spoke: 'Thank you, o kind one. If you save me from this dark path, I will pray to you every night. Please, tell me what they call you!'" But before any reply can be said Barbatos is shown making a shushing sound, which was largely perceived as him not wanting the viewers to know that he was the demon from the story. Later, the human was revealed to be Adam, a man who came to the Devildom looking for his lover and met a demon named Nightbringer, who he immediately went to begging for help. (nb: 8-16)

➤ He was the one to give Solomon the title of “the Witty Sorcerer” when he brought him to the Fountain of Knowledge for the first time while Solomon was on the verge of death. Barbatos attended the sorcerer's wounds there and declared him the new protector of the spring. (nb: 11-10)

➤ He's to blame for how much Solomon has changed, according to Thirteen. The reaper told MC that Solomon used to be very loveably innocent when he was younger, but that Barbatos let him experience whatever he wanted and now nothing scares or fazes him anymore. (nb: 11-10)

➤ The reason he had been so irritable towards Solomon in the past was because when visiting the sorcerers' home he found a list of demons he wanted to make pacts with and noticed his name was placed 8th. (nb: 25-1)

➤ Before meeting Diavolo he used to use his powers freely to travel through time and space whenever he wanted without a care for how his actions could affect others, and they ended up terribly affecting Diavolo and Solomon, and Barbatos sees his devout servitude to the prince as a way to atone for those past actions, but Diavolo doesn't know that. (nb card: Barbatos, "Tea With You")

➤ Although he accepted to work for the prince for the sake of atonement, he ended up enjoying his time with him and found that he felt a sense of belonging working for him. (nb card: Barbatos, "Tea With You")

#again: if anything is missing tell me and I'll add it to the list #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omnb #omswd #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me thirteen #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me spoilers #om barb #om lorebible #☙ no creativity for names ✾

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shy-writer-999 · 1 month

Text

Giving Zoro a hand when he’s injured

WARNING: MINORS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author’s note: This is porn with plot. ~5.3k words. The smut starts at the asterisk I inserted, so you can skip the plot if you’d like. In this fic the reader (afab) gives injured Zoro a hand job. Includes Zoro touching himself and the reader later does the same. ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ \(๑•́o•̀๑)/ xoxoxo - see part 2 for more!

Giving Zoro a hand when he’s injured

Zoro tore one of his shoulder rotator cuffs in his last battle, and he was in bad shape. He also had a huge gash on his thigh that desperately needed to be cleaned and stitched up, but Chopper was on bed rest for a similar reason. The rest of the crew decided that you got to deal with Zoro while he recovered, because you had the most experience (other than Chopper) and least injuries.

Considering that Zoro had almost superhuman stamina and his body could repair itself quicker than most humans, the full recovery process would be a couple of weeks. Zoro would have to avoid using his shoulder for the whole time and he would need ice packs applied every 20 minutes for multiple cycles each day. And it was going to take Chopper at least four or five days to get back on his feet, so… that left you with lots of time babysitting the cranky swordsman. Those few days that you acted as Zoro’s nurse were the only days you had spent in such close proximity with him. Usually Zoro was always around, but you were far from close friends, he wasn’t overtly social, and when you were in the same room you were many feet away.

It would be safe to say that your proximity while you were taking care of him tortured Zoro. He couldn’t put a finger on it at first. You were annoying the fuck out of him. He had never noticed how annoying you were before—too smiley, too careful and tender with him when changing his ice packs, too patronizing… in reality, he was just projecting his misery and frustration on you, in part. But whenever you came into the room his blood pressure rose and he felt agitated, he couldn’t figure out what the hell his problem with you was, since you weren’t doing anything objectively wrong, either.

However, Zoro quickly figured out why you had been agitating him the second you were bent over his thigh, stitching it up. He was lying flat, slightly propped up because his pillows, cranking his head down to watch you work. He was prepared for the stitches to hurt and for the job to be shoddy—you were no Chopper, after all. But Zoro was quickly surprised. Your touch was as soft as a feather, you dabbed his wound with antiseptic so tenderly, gripped his leg firmly but delicately at the same time. Your stitches were swift and as smooth as could be, as painless as he had ever experienced.

Zoro had never felt care like this before. He could sense that you were adjusting your movements slightly to accommodate his comfort, and it caught him off guard. His gaze shifted from your hands to your face. You were so close. He could feel your body heat, see your chest rise and fall, bent over his upper thigh, focusing so intently. He always thought you were beautiful, but he had never been this close to you before. As you looked up quickly to check that he wasn’t grimacing in pain from your stitches, you locked eyes. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Zoro’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. Something stirred inside him. He had never felt this before. What was this feeling? Is it just her beauty that I’m taken aback by? How tender her hands are moving? Her closeness? Zoro reflected internally as his heart calmed down in a millisecond.

“Are you doing ok?” You asked, and briefly paused your work.

“Yeah.” He replied curtly. You got back to work.

It was amazing that he got flustered in that moment, considering that he was the Roronoa Zoro, being treated as tenderly and with as much care as a baby. He went back to watching you work, which had quickly turned into him staring at your face and hands. He was wrapped up in analyzing you, admiring you, so distracted that he forgot the pain for a moment. A thought intruded his mind—your head was down by his thigh, bobbing up and down as you leaned closer to get a better look at his wound. Your head was alarmingly close to his crotch. Would you look like this while sucking his dick? He was sexually frustrated as it was, so the thought wasn’t the most surprising. It’s not like he hadn’t imagined it before. But now that you were inches away from his cock, he couldn’t shake the mental image. His mind wandered. Would he grab your hair and push you down on it? Would you look up at him, like you just did, but with your pretty lips wrapped around his shaft? Before he knew it, he was starting to get hard. The timing was perfect though. You finished tending to his thigh and stood up.

“Okay, all done. Do you need anything before I leave?” You asked him, not noticing his bulge was growing bigger.

“No, thanks.” Zoro responded curtly again, and you left the room.

Recently, Zoro had been so sexually frustrated that he couldn’t go a whole day without excusing himself to the bathroom to masturbate—and you had been the object of his fantasies for weeks. He felt a bit guilty after cumming so hard to the thought of you straddling him, arching your back for him, spitting on his cock and sucking it dry, moaning sweetly as his fingers wandered inside of you… Even before you were positioned down there by his crotch, he would see you walking around deck without a bra on and in a big t-shirt and he just couldn’t help but get ravenous thinking about you riding him.

Of course, you never noticed. You just thought he was sassy and kind of a dick sometimes. But he was being even coarser with you to compensate for how much you had taken over his mind. Having you so close to him for the first time, looking up at him while your body was bent over his, being able to see the outline of your breasts even closer and having an excuse to look… he wasn’t taking it well. He was getting harder by the minute, but managed to fight it off before you came back in an hour to carefully put ice packs on his shoulder. He held his breath when you got that close to him.

Zoro was shirtless, and while you were changing his ice packs and adjusting the padding, you couldn’t help but notice how tan and ripped he was. Even his scars were beautiful because they held stories, memories, pain, and strength. They told a narrative about his past, one which you admired him for. Zoro’s jaw was chiseled, his brow bone strong, his mossy hair was ruffled and endearing, his arms and chest were solid, like they were made of iron. He smelled good, which was weird, because you couldn’t remember the last time he bathed. He was rugged, beat up, covered in small scars and large ones, bruises, and marks. And he was all the more attractive for it.

“Is there anything else you need, Zo?” You had never used that cute nickname before. He took a second to answer because he was just staring at you, caught off guard again.

Zoro was thrown off by how much he was enjoying this, and he was realizing that he felt some sort of way about you. He hadn’t been annoyed, in fact, quite the opposite. He was sexually frustrated and didn’t know how to handle your presence. He realized that he loved it when you touched him, he even loved the sound of your voice. He was putting the pieces together. All things considered, it seems like he had an enormous crush on you that he hadn’t realized until then.

“Zoro?” You asked again, seeing he was spaced out. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” He waved his hand. When you left, the room felt empty. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Not only was he horny, but he was also bored. This is a painful combination, as I’m sure we all know.

The second day you cared for him was much like the first. You changed his ice packs many times. He only got up to go to the bathroom. The only thing that really sucked for him was the horniness and the boredom, neither of which seemed to have a cure that didn’t involve you.

“How’s your pain level?” You asked on one of your trips to his room.

“I’m fine. It’s not bad at all.”

“Ok cool. Do you need anything else?” You queried sweetly, again taking his breath away with your tender eye contact and attentiveness.

“No, I’m good. I’m going fucking crazy with boredom.” He opened up a bit, being the most real with you that he had been so far.

“Do you want me to read you a book? Or we can talk?” You asked.

Zoro thought about it for a second. He worried that he would get hard again if you were around for too long. You, his nurse, were a blessing and a curse.

“No, but thanks. I guess I’ll take a nap.” He responded, and you left the room.

Zoro waited until you were out of the room, and he heard your footsteps retreat down the hallway before he let himself get carried away again. He needed to masturbate as soon as possible. He’d gone almost two whole days without doing it, which was unheard of for him. Your presence was really throwing him for a loop. He let himself indulge in fantasizing about you for just a second and he was hard almost immediately. The blood rushed to his cock with such a speed that you’d think he would have gotten one of Sanji’s nosebleeds. His body was craving your touch. He felt like his core was on fire with need.

Zoro imagined you crawling on top of him naked and rubbing your sopping wet cunt all over his dick—he imagined you humping and grinding on it, getting off on it, before fucking yourself with it. He imagined you cumming on his dick and moaning his name. At this point his hand had crept down to palm at his erection through his pants. He was desperate for it. He grinded his palm down and over his hard bulge.

It had been so long since he touched himself. Zoro was starving for it. He imagined you sucking him off, cumming on your face, your mouth wide open to taste him, licking his cum off your lips. Zoro now took his cock from his boxer briefs and started stroking it slowly, up and down, moving his hand slightly so it felt just right. He was using the hand from the non-injured side of his body. He figured it would be fine, since he only had to worry about the other shoulder.

Zoro imagined fucking you from behind, fucking you from the side, fucking you standing up, fucking you over a counter, on the bed, on the kitchen table, in the crow’s nest, on the floor… He imagined cumming on your ass, on your tits, on your lips, on your stomach… he was stroking himself harder and faster now, fisting his cock furiously, precum smearing down his fingers, letting out muted gasps and grunts, wet sounds seeping into the air. He was getting so close to climax; he could see you so clearly in his mind.

Zoro was just a couple seconds away from orgasming when—“Hey Zoro, OH! Fuck!”

You had opened his door without knocking and just waltzed right in with a glass of water for him. You realized you forgot to refill it earlier and it had been maybe 20 minutes since you first left Zoro for his “nap.” When you walked in and realized what he was doing, your heart stopped, and your brain took a mental screenshot.

He was bent slightly, tensed up, his hand jerking up and down, his cock red and weeping precum, his head was thrown back. His brow was furrowed, he was panting, grunting, lost in pleasure. Zoro let out a small gasp when he saw you and immediately tried to pull his boxer briefs up, letting out an accidental and loud “FUCK”. As he tensed and tried to cover up his cock his shoulder seized up. Pain seared across his shoulders, up his neck, down his spine. He winced.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I-I’ll come back later!!” You screeched and turned around immediately, slamming the door. The interaction lasted a couple seconds but left you both flustered, disturbed, embarrassed, and cringing.

And holy shit, was Zoro embarrassed. His erection was immediately gone, and he was pissed at you for not knocking on the door. He was incredulous. In addition, his shoulder hurt so badly that it was pulsing in pain. Why the fuck didn’t she knock? His heartbeat was through the roof—he didn’t know how to feel either, that you, the person who he had been getting off to, had walked in and interrupted. Was he… turned on by that? Surely not, yet he felt some sort of way about it and couldn’t put his finger on it.

You knocked on the door timidly an hour later.

“Yeah. Come in.” Zoro replied and his tone was icy. You peeked your head in.

“Hi… Zoro, I’m so sorry for not knocking.” You gave him puppy dog eyes and frowned. He thought you even looked cute while apologizing. “I really am sorry.”

“You bonehead,” he replied, scathingly. “Can’t a man have a second of peace? Jeez. Fucking knock next time.”

“I promise I will. I’m sorry, Zoro.” You were both blushing crimson and avoiding eye contact. The awkwardness was palpable, the silence suffocating.

“I-I- brought you some food and water… and a towel, in case you… y’know… in case you needed it.” You placed the items on the bedside table and almost ran out of the room. You couldn’t take the cringe anymore and you felt the animosity radiating from Zoro (or so you thought). Later, you changed Zoro’s ice packs and checked on his thigh bandage. When you changed his ice packs you could see that his shoulder looked worse; it was more inflamed, and he was hissing air out of his teeth every time you touched it.

“Sorry Zo, I know it hurts. But you know, you really shouldn’t masturbate for a few days while you heal.” You scolded him slightly.

“I injured my other shoulder, I’ll be fine.” He rolled his eyes. He wanted you to leave him alone. Bright red blush flooded his cheeks.

“No, Zoro, it’ll irritate the shoulder and arm muscles that are healing on your right side, even if you use your left hand.” You objected. “It’s going to make it difficult to heal if you irritate it, so just hold off for a couple days, ok? I’ll still knock though.”

Zoro sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll try.” He was resigned and annoyed. Internally, though, he was cursing. How was he supposed to go multiple days if he didn’t manage to get off today? How was he supposed to keep himself in check if you were around him so frequently? He would go crazy, he’d die from blue balls, he’d cum in his pants if you got any closer to him. This was not good. Zoro was worried it just wouldn’t be possible. No masturbating for the next few days… it was unheard of for him.

As he was battling and mentally preparing himself to hold off on touching himself, Zoro was also dying from embarrassment. You had seen him in such an intimate and probably unflattering position—fisting his cock in bed thinking about you. Gosh. He thought that you probably thought he was gross, that you regretted being his nurse, that you would never speak to him of your own accord now. You, on the other hand, were absentmindedly wondering what he was masturbating to. Part of you wished that you could know, and you wished that it was you, and the other part told you to stand up and get a grip because you were too old to be pining after a man, period.

The next day you were changing the bandage on his thigh and reapplying antibiotic ointment when he got a boner again, and this time it was very noticeable. Zoro was accidently imagining you bending down in between his knees and choking on his cock. He was imagining you cradling his balls, slurping up and down, spitting on his cock and—oh God, he had a boner now. A full-fledged boner and you were less than a foot away from it. You glanced up from his thigh and immediately noticed it.

“Fuck—sorry.” He choked out. To divert your attention and downplay the awkwardness, he came up with a poor and somewhat weird excuse. “Go put some clothes on, lady. Sheesh!” You were wearing a black tank top, and he could see a tiny bit of cleavage as well as the outline of your breasts underneath it without a bra on (you rarely wore a bra on the ship because why would you?). He had imagined you peeling off your tank top, pulling it over your shoulders, your breasts free and naked… The boner was still raging, his pants became uncomfortably tight. You had, of course, taken note of how ridiculously huge it was.

You rolled your eyes. “Zoro, I always wear this!!”

“It’s indecent! GO put something else on!” He was using your tank top, exposed shoulders, and cleavage as an excuse for you to leave. He wanted to have a second to cool down and mentally try to extinguish his erection.

“Fine. Fucking hell.” You rolled your eyes again, genuinely annoyed.

Moments later, you returned in a light blue t-shirt, certainly more covered, but this was even worse for Zoro. The light color allowed him to make out the outline of your breasts even more. He cursed himself out for staring at you, but he couldn’t get his eyes to move. You noticed that he was laser focused on your chest and you started to blush. A fantasy flashed in his mind of latching onto one of your nipples and sucking, swirling his tongue around it while you moaned his name. Fuck. He still had the boner. It was getting even bigger now.

“Can’t you just hand me a pillow or something?” He asked, annoyed, and blushing vivid red.

“Ok Zoro, one sec.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it on him; he covered his erection.

The room was painfully silent. This was excruciating for both of you. Zoro’s hard on was pressing against the pillow and the pillow was doing far too little to conceal his erection, but even the friction of the pillow felt good.

When you came back with his dinner later that night the same thing happened. You walked in the room, set his dinner down, changed his ice packs and BOOM, another boner. He got even brighter red, and you matched him.

Zoro tried to defend himself from his rogue erections. He was worried he would make you uncomfortable. “Fuck, I swear it’s not you. I’m just dying over here. It’s been days.” He wrinkled his brow and looked at you, showing how agonized he was.

“You’ll be fine. Stop being so dramatic, Zoro.” You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that day. “If you jerk off it will hurt your shoulder though, don’t forget. “

“Aghhhh” he groaned. “Fuck. Okay, I get it. Now just leave me alone.”

“Okay, big guy.” As you closed the door to his room, you threw one last sentence over your shoulder, half joking: “But… if you ever need a hand, let me know.”

Zoro was stunned. What the fuck did you just say? There’s no way. He thought it was funny that you were fucking with him like that but boy, did he wish you would give him a hand. He felt like a dog in heat, like he hadn’t fucked in ten years, like he was going to go crazy if he couldn’t let his load off in the next twenty minutes. He was so frustrated by this state that he couldn’t remedy. Unless you were being serious… but there’s no way, right? He had a boner all day at this point and he was getting sick of it.

The next day was more of the same. He had an instant boner the second you were changing his ice packs; it grew bigger when you checked on his thigh wound. You tried to ignore it, he blushed and averted his eyes again. You started to pity him at this point.

“Zoro, I was being serious about helping you out,” you looked at him carefully. “You look like you’re in agony. Are you really this sexually frustrated?” You were semi-joking with him, trying to banter to let the awkwardness dissipate.

Zoro swallowed hard and locked eyes with you again. He couldn’t tell if you were being serious, even though you just said so.

“I feel bad for you.” You said again, looking at him tenderly. “I’ll help you out if you need it, it doesn’t have to be weird.”

Zoro cleared his throat. “If you’re sure…” He trailed off.

“I am your nurse, after all,” you tried to put him at ease, joking.

“Stop teasing me,” Zoro pleaded pathetically. “I’m dying over here.”

“You know, you’re cute when you get flustered,” you poked some fun at him. He blushed again, his boner huge and pushing on his pants, painfully obvious.

“Fine. Let’s just get it over with. I can’t take it anymore.” He looked at you with genuine anguish, his heartbeat racing each second, erection growing, rubbing against the coarse fabric of his pants, pulsing with need.

“Okay, but make sure to hold still. Don’t go shaking around or anything, it will fuck your shoulder up.” You cautioned him and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure I won’t be doing any ‘shaking around’. Now let’s just get this over with.” He was visibly distressed.

(*) You shifted closer to Zoro, sitting on the bed. Your hand crept up and ran over his boner, and he inhaled sharply, looking away from you, tensed up. You unzipped his pants and shifted them down, giving yourself just enough access to his bulging cock that was rock hard.

Another tug and his boxer briefs were down, freeing his cock, which sprung into the air, huge, girthy, long, red and inflamed already. Your hand tentatively grasped his shaft and he shuttered. Reaching your other hand to caress his balls, Zoro couldn’t believe this was happening. It was one of his fantasies. Your soft hand began to move up and down his length. It felt so fucking good. He was finally, finally getting off, after days of torment. He had to mentally steady himself not to cum within two minutes.

You looked at Zoro and he had thrown his head back, eyes closed, blushing and obviously embarrassed. His mouth hung open barely, letting out puffs of air. He was so, so worked up, it was unreal.

As you stroked him and massaged his balls you realized that you should have grabbed lube or something. You spat in your hand and started rubbing his cock with more fluidity. The wetness of your spit felt amazing. Electricity ran up and down Zoro’s core and his cock was pulsing, jumping in your hand. He let out a small groan. He wasn’t expecting you to spit on it and it aroused him more than he thought was possible.

Zoro’s tip started to leak precum onto your fingers. It was milky and white, pooling out of him, lubing his throbbing red cock even more. He lost composure and started to groan quietly. You looked up at him again and he was watching your fingers sloppily graze up and down his slicked-up cock. Your hand picked up speed.

“Does that feel good?” You whispered at him, both hands now stroking his shaft, leisurely jerking him up and down. He nodded clumsily and threw his head back with a deep groan.

“Fuck. Don’t stop,” Zoro said out hoarsely, and his deep voice made fire pool in your stomach. You were wet already. You wished you could put his cock in you and ride on it, grind on it, bounce up and down on it, moaning his name. You removed a hand from his cock and crept it into your pants, rubbing your clit under your panties. You couldn’t help it. He was groaning and moaning, panting, his dick twinging—you were unbelievably turned on.

When Zoro saw you touching yourself, his heart stopped. Your eyes met and you looked at him with need and desire so plain on your face it was shocking. His hips started to buck up into your hand, making you jerk him off faster and deeper. He was desperate. He needed more, he wanted to cum so bad, he wanted to moan your name, watch you cum from touching yourself.

“Oh my fuck, Y/N,” he whimpered. “Feels so fucking good. I needed this so bad, I was going crazy, I wanted you to touch me so bad.” Your face flushed red, and you fingers moved faster, your wetness seeping into your already soaking panties, gasping with pleasure as his words went straight to your pussy. Zoro was watching you pleasure yourself and it felt good.

“I wish I could fuck you right now,” you murmured quietly.

“Please,” he begged. “Please fuck me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, he was out of breath, his face twisted in pleasure, his hips jerking up into your hand fervently.

“I can’t,” you pleaded. “It will hurt you, Zo. We have to wait.” He furrowed his brow and closed his eyes, letting out another moan.

You took your hand away from your dripping wet panties and started to stroke him with your own wetness. Zoro could feel every drop of it. He was shaking, moments away from orgasm.

“I’m going to cum,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

Your hands moved faster, squeezing him tighter, encouraging him to let it out. Seconds later he let out a deep, desperate, harsh groan and convulsed. He came hard. His cum spurted out of his tip that was red and inflamed, shooting ropes of sticky milk all over your hands and on his own stomach.

He moaned your name deep, low, and drawn out, and your pussy vibrated. You moved a hand to rub your clit again immediately upon hearing his deep and needy groans. Hearing him utter your name so sensually made you feel feral. It was something you had been dreaming of for so long. As you came, you moaned his name back at him. “Zoro, fuck.”

After a moment of endorphins blitzing his brain, Zoro regained clarity. “Holy shit,” he panted out. “I needed that so bad.”

“I know you did,” you replied. Something came over you and you leaned up to kiss him. He went rigid and then slowly melted into your lips. It was intimate and special; it was more than just a transactional hand job—the kiss transformed the moment into something more than that.

Looking down at his cum that laced his stomach, you quipped, “I’ll have to try that next time.”

“Next time?” He looked at you cluelessly, blushing.

“Mmmhmm. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

( ˘ ³˘)♥ (・ω<) (^≗ω≗^)

check out part 2 if you're interested! thank u so so much for reading!!

also here is my masterlist :3

#one piece smut #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x you #anime smut #with: zoro #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #roronoa zoro smut #zoro fanfiction

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jawllines · 9 months

Text

So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand.

“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.”

Harry and Y/N like being around each other maybe too much

part 1

part 2

part 3

iv.

Y/N wondered how many vampires she’d seen in her lifetime.

Unlike the stories and movies, they didn’t lurk in the night and meld into the shadows all of the time. Their skin was pale, but no more pale than someone living in the mountains with very little sun. Their eyes weren’t red, or golden brown, or pools of black – they were just normal irises, no different than humans, the color encrypted in their DNA from conception. They were gorgeous, sometimes eerily so, but not in a way that you could easily group them by their features. It was comparable to being backstage on a runway – the people surrounding you were models, you knew that, and they were all beautiful in their own way with their own unique features. The difference is that instead of only finding them pretty in passing, it’s mesmerizing, almost hard to fathom, alluring in an almost unignorable way.

But Y/N can’t remember ever being out in public and seeing a vampire, even if she didn’t know what they were called at the time. Clearly she didn’t, if one was able to ask her on a date and she’d just presumed she’d lucked out with an attractive man who didn’t mind dating below his league. Otherwise, they were masters of camouflage, or Y/N was just less observant than she thought.

Because right now, even to the untrained eye, Y/N is almost positive that she looks like a vampire. Or at least that something is off with her. It’s in the way her posture is almost too correct, ramrod straight like someone straightened out her back and put her in a brace to keep her unmoving. Her chest did not rise and fall with each breath – not because the need to use her lungs had not been completely eradicated yet, but for the fact she’s taking a ton of shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid smelling anything, or anyone. The way she holds her fork looks weird to her – she hadn’t held a fork in so long it was an unfamiliar weight between her fingers. She gave terse replies to questions, and could barely hold a conversation longer than small talk.

To anyone looking or interacting with her, they must think she’d grown up in a basement and just recently ventured out into the world. To Harry, who sits across from her with an amused look dancing across his features, he knew she was just attempting to reacclimate into society.

They had been out before, but normally that was at night, or early during cloudy weekdays when most of the city population is stuck in their stuffy office buildings. When the amount of humans is sparse and Y/N could amble away if being around them became too much. She’d never been forced to sit among them for longer than a couple minutes at a time, maybe waiting in a long line, or patiently off to the side when a human woman was interested in the same earrings that she was.

That had been her toeing the water; Harry held her hand at the edge of a dock while she dipped her feet into the pool of being a productive member of society again. She would have to return to work at some point, and she would need to be able to attend social events or see her family, or her friends back home without wanting to eat them. Harry was surrounded by humans all day nearly every day and he hasn’t lashed out and ended up in a tabloid for sinking his teeth into a designer. It was possible, though it would take time, and a lot of practice – at some point she would be able to integrate seamlessly back into the human world.

At some point – right now, it was fucking hard.

Harry took her out for lunch, at a small deli a couple blocks from his flat. It was a day when the sky was heavy with clouds and would be for the majority of the afternoon, so they were able to venture out with no fear that Y/N would get all rashy again. All of Y/N’s fear lay within being in closed quarters with humans and pretending that the scent of their blood doesn’t affect her in the slightest. Or that the leaves of the salad she was stuffing into her mouth tasted more than just bland, rubbery nothing to a palate now keen on something metallic and sweet. And in that fear, and her overexerting her effort trying to look normal, she thinks she’s making herself look uncanny, unapproachable, and too much like she doesn’t belong. Like someone clipped her out of a comic book and pasted her in The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

“Relax your shoulders,” Harry spoke from across the table, having already eaten half his sandwich, tucking the straw of his soda at the corner of his lips and sipping, “It looks like I just brought you out of a boarding school.”

“Shut up.” Y/N had been saying that a lot to him today because it was two simple words that didn’t require as much effort as trying not to eat someone.

Harry smiled, all too relaxed for what Y/N would think are pretty serious circumstances but she guesses he’s been through this so often he isn’t worried about a thing. Harry never seemed worried when they did something new, always promising her that he would know if she was going to do something stupid, because he knows her. And if the need to subdue her were to arise, then he could do so easily, or so he tells her every time she’s stressed about it.

“You had plenty to eat before we came,” he murmured, voice just a touch lower, his brows raising slightly, “Even if you take a small little breath through your nose, you won’t feel like you need to do anything.”

It’s difficult to talk inconspicuously about it, in case someone nosy was listening into their conversation (because Y/N is fucking nosy, so she knows someone else is bound to match her), but Harry does it easily. Y/N did eat a considerable amount before they did this, from the baggies, and even a little treat from Harry just before they’d left the flat. She was full, blood-drunk, and hazy up to the point that they were about to walk inside the shop and she’d worked herself up.

“Mind over matter,” Harry slid his leg to her and locked their ankles together – he was resting his chin and cheek in his palm, watching her carefully, drinking her in, “Just take a small little breath through your nose, hm? You’ll see it’s not as bad as you think.”

Y/N blinks at him, gripping her fork a little too hard, and she feels the stainless steel give beneath her grip, “I – okay,” she nodded, slow, steady – the whole point of this excursion was to start working on being able to smell humans without wanting to desperately sink her teeth into them. Before she could start utilizing feeders, she needed to be completely in control of how her body responds and reacts to stimuli like this. At least that’s what Harry tells her, and she’s inclined to believe him since there isn’t anyone to bounce off of his ideas anymore. She isn’t sure if they’re still on the pathway he used for all the new vampires he mentored or if he’d toggled it based on their situation. She could message Christopher and Naomi about it but every time she messages them, her heart yearns and aches in her chest.

“You’ll stop me if anything happens?” She knows he will, but she feels better when he’s all cocky and sure of himself. One of them needed complete faith in the situation, and it usually was Harry.

Harry, who had been treating her all soft and tender lately. His words could still be harsh and he rolls his eyes and rumples his lips at her when she says something he thinks is stupid, and he’s patient, but even that patience runs out relatively quickly – but every interaction has a much softer edge to it. With every harsh critique of her technique or skill, (“How many times are you going to listen to the neighbor’s conversation and not me outside, downstairs, when you’re on the balcony? It shouldn’t matter how many flights up you are, this is baby stuff we’re trying to accomplish now!”) there is a gentle caress of her skin. His fingers will dance along her wrist, and he’ll slide his fingers between the slots of hers, and squeeze, before murmuring, “Let’s try again.”

They are much closer now – Y/N doesn’t know if they’re dating, or if vampires even date, but she knows that Harry treats her like they might be. Harry pushes his nose into her neck and breathes in deeply like she’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. He entertains her musings about code and work despite not having a clue what she’s talking about or saying. At the end of the night (early in the morning) when she is thinking about lying down, Harry offers his room to her, his bed.

“You can always sleep in here,” he’d told her, “Even if I’m not here, yeah? Just don’t stain the sheets or anything, because to keep them this pristine even with a kitten has been hell.”

Shit, he’s even referred to Leaf as their baby a couple of times, whereas previously he’s only called her his own. “What are you doing to my baby?” Is what he would say before when Leaf is playing with one of the many feathered string toys that Harry bought her and Y/N accidentally makes her jump right into the wall. Now it’s things like, “Our baby is so happy,” when she comes up to them on the sofa, purring and kneading at Y/N’s thighs before snuggling in her lap and falling asleep.

Things with him were soft. This certainly felt like a relationship, sometimes, but Y/N knew better than to get ahead of herself. Last time she did that she ran away from her hometown and then got bitten by a fucking vampire, so it was better to just take things a step at a time.

“What, you think I’m g’na let you eat someone and make me look bad?” He speaks low enough that only she could hear, helped by the loud chatter of voices around them, and stretches one arm across the table, looping his fingers around her forearm, and dragging the blunt tip of his nail along her skin, “Of course I’ll stop you, dummy.”

Y/N shivers but feels safe; he’s got a leg wrapped around hers, and a hand on her. If she tried to move, he would stop her immediately. Harry doesn’t say aloud that that’s what he’s doing, but they both know it makes her feel better when he’s got his hands on her in some way. She’d told him as much in the past when she’d looped her arm in the gap between his and his body when they first went into the grocery store.

“Hm, is this a ploy to make me touch you in public? You’re a filthy exhibitionist.” He’d teased her at the time, but now he keeps his hand on her when they’re out. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, a hand at the nape of her neck, his fingers looped around her wrist.

She lets herself breathe in, just a little bit, a tiny inhale through her nose. The scents weren’t overwhelming like she’d thought – there’s plenty to sift through, it wasn’t just an onslaught of the blood pumping through the veins surrounding them. Fresh bread, the fabric softener on people’s clothes, the cleaner used to wipe down tables when they were emptied – she smelled all of that too. All a mix, like when she was a human, only she could smell and separate them just a note better than she could before. And the blood – she couldn’t smell blood before, but with a belly full, it wasn’t as hard. It still made her mouth water, and there was an itch beneath her skin that wanted to be plucked at, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Harry drags his nails back and forth on her forearm lazily, “See?” His relaxed posture stays, leaning on his palm, “You’re not a monster, are you, baby?”

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head, “No, I’m not,” she cleared her throat a little, “We need to – um – we need to get Leaf chicken treats, she likes those best.” Y/N wanted to practice being normal, talking about normal things, and thinking about something else than how she’s trying not to breathe in too deeply. She didn’t necessarily explain this to Harry beforehand but he doesn’t seem confused either, just goes along with it.

“Really? I kind of thought she liked the shrimp ones better.”

Y/N focuses more on Harry’s scent – he smells good. He always smells so good, that whenever she does sleep in his bed, she dips her nose into the blankets and stuffs her face into the pillows (obviously when he’s not there, she would never live that down). If she could shove her nose in the base of his throat and not stuff her teeth into his neck then she would do it all of the time. Harry does it to her, unprovoked and unannounced, burrowing the cold tip of his nose against her carotid. She used to squirm, her ear meeting her shoulder as she pulled away from him, but now she’s gotten used to it – now, she almost expects it when he comes home from work, and if he doesn’t, she’s a little disappointed.

It’s easy to forget why she’s at Harry’s in the first place if she’s just focusing on her and Harry’s dynamic. It’s also easy to forget that she would eventually face the music when she has to confront her feelings – Niall. There was a heavy weight on her shoulders like she wore a helmet of cast iron everywhere she went; sometimes she would forget about it, it’d been so long that it was easy to let it slip her mind, but then her shoulders would feel the pressure of it periodically.

Like when you wear glasses for the first time. At first, it is all you can think about, how it rests on the bridge of your nose, the way the frames outline your field of view. But a couple of hours in they’re merely an extension of you, you forget they’re on your face until you reach up to rub your eye and something is in the way.

The helmet was heavy, the look in Niall’s eyes as he told her, the cold feeling that had flushed through her veins when he’d admitted it. She wondered if it felt like his own helmet had been lifted, the weight of his guilt eased by the admission. Did he know he was going to transfer it to her? Take the helmet off and plop it onto her head?

Her heart was torn in two. Y/N wanted to hate him for it, she really did – want to cuss him out, scratch him, and spit on him – how did vampires fight? Did they bite each other? Do they punch each other? Kick, slap? Was it still below the belt to kick him in the balls or was that an appropriate fighting tactic? Harry had never taught her how to fight – she thought maybe some sort of combat training would be important down the line, but vampires don’t usually do that. Movies and books make it seem like it was a constant battle, always something going on that they needed to defeat. Vampires typically coexist peacefully, is the thing, and their only true threat are hunters but it’s often better to avoid them or flee the situation than to fight, at least when you’re new. As long as she doesn’t act recklessly then she wouldn’t have to worry.

And in the same breath that she hated him, she owed him her life. It was a new one – a flawed one, no more flawed than her old life, but still a new life. She would have to change how she lives, eats, exists, and it’s scary – it’s so scary! But she was alive. She was still walking around, she could still work toward goals she’d set for herself, and she could find a place for herself in this world instead of bleeding out in an alley, still feeling lost and alone.

Would she have walked away from someone in need how she expected Niall to? If she’d stumbled upon the same scene, would she have been able to ignore it? She couldn’t even ignore a fucking kitten meowing! So it was hard – her feelings were difficult to work through and that was only worsened by her not seeing him. Playing house at Harry’s flat and ignoring what happened.

“Where’d you go?” Harry pulls her out of her reverie, and she realizes she’d been digging her fingers into the croissant she was holding, her eyes dazed. He drags his fingers along her skin again, tenderly, gently, “Hmm? Where’d my girl go?”

Y/N feels warm and bubbly and allows herself to revel in the giddiness that comes with Harry treating her like something special. If there was one single benefit from this whole mess, it would be Harry – experiencing this homely side of him. Whether it be the connection through their blood, or their time spent together, she felt at complete, and total ease in Harry’s presence. If she was starting to spiral, he pulled her out of it just as quickly.

“Sorry,” she murmured, swallowing, ripping a piece of the flaky pastry and laying it on her tongue – it tasted like nothing, chalky and bland, “I. . .need to figure things out with Niall soon. I can’t keep burdening you.”

“You’re no burden,” he answered without a second thought, “Not even a little bit, but I understand needing to sort things out for your peace of mind.” He reaches forward, thumbing at the apple of her cheek, and pinching playfully, “But you don’t need to leave just for that, hm? You’re no burden to me.”

Y/N rests on the palm of his cheek, sighing, and the smell of all the other humans in the place pales in comparison to Harry, “Mm,” she nuzzles – it’s embarrassing, how easy she is for him, but he doesn’t tease her like he probably could, “I just. . .I think, how I’m seeing it, is I would have done the same.” She explained, “If I’d seen someone, I would have done the same, you know?” Her gaze flickered toward him, “Would you?”

“I have,” he shrugged, “You know, it’s something that you never really know what you’ll do at the moment but when it’s presented in front of you – that’s when you’ll know. You act off instinct,” he squeezes her shoulder, slipping down to her bicep, “Just how you ran to go save Leaf with no concern of the sun. This isn’t me trying to sway you either,” he shook his head, “If you decided you fucking hated him and never wanted to see him again, I would endorse it. If you decide that you’ll forgive him, then I’ll accept that – whatever you want to do.”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she ripped another piece of croissant, “Yeah, okay.”

. . .

Despite coming to terms with what she wanted to do, it still took her a week to gain the courage to see him. Harry doesn’t push the issue, merely enjoys his time with her and Leaf until she tells him she is ready. Honestly, there were a couple of times when Y/N wondered if she should just start ignoring it again and live life peacefully with Harry, or as peacefully as she could. But still, it weighed on her, like a Niall-shaped force that stretched himself over her and smothered her in her sleep. She had dreams of confronting him, some heartwarming and with a good outcome, some horrible that left her with tears bearding her eyes.

She needed to do it. If she did, then she could better focus on whatever the hell is going on between her and Harry. And being a vampire. . .big, important things like that.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand.

She laid her hands on his thighs, “I need to do it today,” she told him, and she didn’t have to be descriptive for Harry to know what she was talking about, “It’s gotta be today or I won’t.”

His gaze softened, the pale skin of his face smoothed over into something contemplative and understanding. There’s a soft sound that pulls from his throat, and his legs squeeze around her as he nods, “Okay,” he answered easily, “Do you want to ambush him or should I give him a heads up?”

“Will he run away if he knows I’m coming?”

Harry pursed his lips in thought, “You know, Niall isn’t one to run away,” he started, “But he also isn’t one to admit when he’s in the wrong either, and he’s done that, so I reckon some of the things I knew about him fundamentally might be wrong. He may flee from guilt alone or he’ll respect you enough to want to hear what you have to say.”

“Then you can let him know,” she took Leaf, scratching the soft, short furs beneath her chin, “If this is a friendship worth salvaging, then he’ll wait for me.”

The drive, which typically felt like an hour-long adventure out to the secluded space in which Mitch’s house resided, felt far quicker than it ever had before. Y/N thought it was because this time, she actually wanted it to go by slowly so that she had the chance to collect her thoughts and plan out exactly what she was going to say, and how she was going to say it. She needed the full forty-ish minutes (accounting rush hour) to develop her script, but Harry must be pressing the gas pedal right down to the floorboards because they zip through the roads in record time.

There’s a hazy, orange glow casting over the trees while the sun sank beyond the horizon, the other half of the sky blotching the inky black sky of a winter night. She wondered if there would be stars later on – there hadn’t been for the last couple of days because of clouds heavy with snow, that’s now freckling the earth and freezing up the soil. Y/N missed them – she feels like she hasn’t seen them in a while.

They roll up in front of the house, and Y/N thinks all of three seconds go by before a pouting Naomi rips the passenger door open, “Shame on Harry for keeping you all to himself,” she whined, and she unbuckling Y/N before Y/N could even gather her bearings, pulling her out of the car and into her arms. Naomi looks a bit frail but she’s got the strength of someone who’s prepared for war, and she gives Y/N a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve missed you!”

Y/N laughed lightly, squeezing her arms out from where they’d been trapped between their bodies so she could reciprocate the show of affection, “I missed you too,” she replied.

“Oi,” he grumbled, “I wasn’t keeping her to myself, I gave her a haven in a rough time.”

“You never let any of us come over besides Christopher!”

Harry crossed his arms, after pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, “Why would I want you heathens in my flat? The lot of you would trash the place or steal from me.”

“You’re just no good at sharing, you –”

Their voices fade into the background as Y/N leaves them to bicker, a tiny quirk at her lips like the muscles in her face want to smile but are thinking better than to. It was nice, sort of, to be back; to smell all the familiar scents, like she was returning home. This felt more like home than her flat did now, just from the sheer amount of time she’d spent here. She walked the familiar map from the front door, to her room, and nearly made a pitstop to give herself more time but muscled through the desire to. Y/N took the four more steps she needed to before knocking on Niall’s door – she could smell him in there.

“Come in.” His voice sounds stiff, and when she opens the door, the position he’s sitting in matches it. He must have heard her coming because he isn’t in the lax state he normally is – his legs are off the end of the mattress, feet firm on the floor. He sits straight, his face serious, stern. She’s so used to the nonchalant way he goes about that this is the most uncanny and makes her feel like an agent sent to question him, or a judge to sentence him. Y/N hated that, she doesn’t want it to be like that – she wants it to be normal between them. Or, normal-ish, at least.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her cat paw chair sitting at the foot of his bed. Niall followed her gaze and answered before she could even question it, “I – um – promise I wasn’t stealing that,” he replied, “I missed. . .you know – having it in here made me feel a little better. Which I know, I don’t deserve to feel good about what happened.”

Y/N ignored him, closed the door behind her, and then plopped down in the chair, resting her back on the pink, plush toe beans, “Get on the floor,” she ordered, patting the empty spot in front of her with her foot, “Please stop sitting so straight, it’s freaking me out.”

Niall is quick to crawl down on the floor in front of her, he relaxes his shoulders so they slump just a little, and he kicks his left leg out how he usually did when he was sprawled out on the floor of her room and they were talking. It brings some normalcy to the situation that Y/N desperately needs. She bites the inside of her bottom lip for a second before giving an unneeded clear of her throat (it was just a habit at this point, she wondered how long it would take for it to break).

“I’m just gonna come right out with it because I don’t want to beat around the bush, and if I do, I’ll just talk myself in circles until I don’t make any sense,” she started, “At first I was so mad at you I could have slapped you and spit on you and called you names. I was pretty sure that I never wanted to see you again and that I would be fine if you were completely wiped from my life,” he grimaces at the description but does nothing to refute it, “But you couldn’t have been wiped from my life, if I wasn’t living to begin with, which – I know, it gets a little confusing and convoluted. This life I have now is. . .odd, and different, and I’m not human anymore, and maybe by all technicalities I’m not alive, but I feel like I am.” She runs her thumbnail along the inside of her other palm, following the lines in them she’s had since birth, “I feel the world around me, and I can love, and I can talk, and laugh, and work, and cry. I can do all the things that I did before and then some, so even if it is different. . .I’m still alive. And I wouldn’t be had it not been for you.”

Niall is following along, motionless, soaking in every word, “I’m more upset that you kept it from me. It would have just been nice to know, right? What exactly had happened that night, it’d been plaguing my mind and you would ask every so often, and now I’m realizing it was less from a place of care and more you covering your tail.” She shrugged her shoulders when Niall’s face scrunched with shame, “But I can’t sit here and act like I would do something different. I don’t know what I would do, in a situation like that – I think, if I came across someone in my position, then I would have changed them too. I don’t really know how at this point, but I would have tried to figure it out. And I would have been scared, afterward, I don’t know if I would have told anyone either. But I thought we were close enough. . .at least a month in, I feel like you could have told me,” she sighed, “That’s what makes me angriest. I thought we were friends but you were just being nice to me because you felt bad.”

“That’s not true.” It was the first time he’d uttered a word since she began, “You – maybe at the start, I was a little more protective of you because I felt bad, but the rest of it – I truly felt friendship with you. Not all of it was a lie,” he shook his head, “I wanted to tell you, I did, but it never seemed like an opportune time to. And the one chance I did get, I chickened out. But I get it, if – if you need to be angry, be angry, I honestly wish you would just slap me or hit me or something, so it felt like I was getting punished for it.”

“I wanted to, believe me, but Harry was pretty convinced that you were punishing yourself enough for it. Listen, what I’m saying is,” she crawled off the cat paw, and took his hands in her own – they were smooth and ice cold – he probably hasn’t been eating well, “My feelings are very conflicted and confusing, and I don’t know if I forgive you entirely, but forgiveness isn’t out of the question. Do you get what I mean?” Niall hums his assent, “I know things can’t go back to the way they were entirely, but I’d like it if we could get somewhere close to it. And – and if you think about it, we’ll probably be around for decades, won’t we? I’m bound to get over it eventually.”

Niall and Y/N don’t really hug – Naomi is the touchy-feely type, and Y/N can be when she wants to be, but Niall is much more reserved with his affections. So that’s why she is tentative and a little hesitant in embracing him, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, but she’s pleasantly surprised to feel him hug her back tightly, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and his words vibrated through her throat, “I’m so sorry, thank you for even coming back to talk to me. I thought surely with Harry at your side, you would’ve hated my guts.”

“You would be surprised by this, but Harry went to bat for you pretty hard,” she peeled back just a little bit, “I mean, he didn’t try to change my opinion but his of you never faltered.”

Niall frowned, “Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with hating him sometimes,” Y/N laughed, “Seriously, he’ll be the worst prick alive and then he does something unreasonably kind and it’s like. . .either be a dick, or be nice, I hate the mix-up.” He gently let his arms slip away from her but he remained close, “Speaking of, I’ve been eavesdropping on him and Mitch – they never hear me coming so I can always get away with knowing shite I shouldn’t – has he told you yet? About the whole blood thing?”

Y/N shook her head, and part of her was worried that Niall would save it for Harry to tell her, but she forgot that Niall is Niall, and through and through, he loved causing trouble for Harry at any given notice, “After Mitch’s initial displeasure that he’d been keeping it from him, he said there was something called ‘fated pairs’ or something like that. Your bodies call out to each other on a molecular level, something that was – predetermined the day you were both born. There was a lot of vampiric folklore nonsense that he spouted off, but he seemed pretty convinced. I don’t know why it affects you both in the way that it would make you horny, but, yeah. He said that it would’ve been the same if you were human – even if you were both humans, actually. That it was like a soul bond.”

It was a lot to take in; Y/N is relieved of one stress and then immediately another is placed on top of her. Was it stress though? She doesn’t feel stressed at the thought of them being bonded together by their souls – she doesn’t mind that – but she is stressed that maybe he minded that. Because as far as Harry was concerned, there was no rhyme or reason for their reaction to one another’s blood. Y/N hadn’t even known he’d spoken to Mitch about it, and so to find out he has and he didn’t even express the findings to her. . .worries her, a bit. Did he not like it? Was the thought of being tied to her horrible? But if it was then he wouldn’t have been so doting and cuddly these last few weeks, right?

“You look stressed,” he noted, “I would be too if I was bonded to that fucker, so I understand.”

Breathlessly, she laughs again, “He’s not so bad.”

. . .

Harry gets pretty clingy when Y/N goes back.

Though he’d promised that she wasn’t a bother, she still felt guilty to be inhabiting his home when he was at work. She’d been hearing him postpone different trips too, a couple of days in Italy, a fashion show in France – things that he always went to before, and she had a feeling it was because he didn’t want to leave her alone. It was sweet, but it made her feel guilty, so she decided it was okay to go back for a little while and reacclimate to the house.

It wasn’t so bad – going from Harry’s modern, high-tech flat to Mitch’s Victorian-style mansion was different but it isn’t horrible. Y/N liked being surrounded by people when Harry was at work or attending some smarmy event, instead of being alone. The only downside was there was a little Leaf-shaped hollow in her heart, but Harry describes shared custody and drops her off with Y/N when he knows he’s going to be out all day or if he does have to leave for one of those week-long trips.

The others act like she never left. She goes to the movie nights and nobody mentions what happened. Christopher gives her a big, long hug when he sees that she’s returned, then promptly warms her two mugs of “the sweetest blood” as a welcome home present. Naomi comes to inhabit Y/N’s bed and talks about pop culture and how Samuel is fucking someone who isn’t Theodore so that had been a lot of drama while she was away. Delphine starts to visit her room for Leaf – apparently, she’d grown up with a lot of barn cats, so she was very fond of them, and they find their shared love for animals as a link to start speaking more comfortably with each other. And wherever Delphine was, Saskia was close behind. Her past with cats was checkered because she had an allergy to them before, but being a vampire meant eradicating all allergies, so she hesitantly gave Leaf a pet or two.

Leaf, all tiny and soft, loves the extra attention.

Niall still comes to her room but not without being invited first. Y/N thinks eventually this will change, but it seems like he doesn’t want to smother her with his presence, though Y/N wouldn’t find it smothering at all. He’s still hesitant, and she gets it – Y/N liked that he respected her enough to let her decide if she was in the right headspace to see him that day or not.

The only person who takes it hard and acts like it is the worst thing in the world is Harry. He never goes three days without coming to see her, and when he isn’t with her, he’s messaging her and calling her, asking if she wants to FaceTime in between flights. When he does come, he poses a strict, “Nobody bothers us” rule where he threatens to move her dresser in front of the door to ward off “unwanted” intruders (though they could all probably move the dresser anyway, they’re very strong). He crawled into her bed and pulled her into his body, dragging the blankets over them, “You smell too much like the others,” he’d grumble, resting his chin on the top of her head, “Hate it.”

“You’re silly,” she’d respond but soaked in the snuggling happily — it used to be something they merely indulged in while she was asleep; before, Harry would only ever kind of curl around her or pet her or hold her when she was all blood drunk and full, seconds from slumber. Now he’s much more open and willing to do it whenever – when they were watching the telly, when they were on the ground and Y/N was painting her nails (“I should sit behind you, yeah? You can sit between my legs, and when you’re done with one hand, I’ll blow on your fingers to dry them,”) if they were outside on the deck, practicing whatever Harry had come up with for the day.He crowds her space like he was made to. If Harry was there, they’re glued at the hip, and that was just normal now.

Y/N wondered if he would ever bring up the whole bond thing, but he seemed content not to. Still, it didn’t seem to deter him from letting her snack on his blood, which she sure only furthers the whole thing. So maybe he wasn’t concerned with it – maybe he was just seeing where it went. Y/N isn’t sure, but she’s usually good at ignoring things. If the other party didn’t want to talk about it then she wouldn’t either, it was never in her nature to press for answers.

. . .when she was a human, at least. Being a vampire hasn’t changed her at a fundamental level, she doesn’t believe, but it has given her a new outlook on life, and a different perspective on some things. It was better to ask and get an answer that she didn’t want rather than continue not knowing something for sure. If she’d lived by that rule in the past it would have probably saved her a lot of trouble.

So Y/N asks him outright, Leaf curled in her lap in a tiny furry heap, and Harry with his arms curled around Y/N’s body protectively. Nobody else was in the den – they were either in their rooms or out and about (with a strict curfew now, because of the whole thing between her and Niall – Mitch blamed himself for giving them a little too much freedom being newly presented). Harry suggested they utilize the tv then, instead of trying to watch it on her laptop screen. Harry tells her they should be at his flat, but since he was supposed to go three hours away for a photoshoot tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave her alone (it turns out he’d been postponing more than she had initially thought so now he was playing catch up – something about Spring deadlines and all of that).

The screen clears as the next episode of the show they’re watching loads up, and maybe it isn’t the best timing or the best place to do it, but she has to ask before she loses her nerve.

“Are we a. . .fated pair? Is that what it’s called?”

She feels Harry stiffen behind her, his hold around her arms tightening only slightly as he processes what she’d just inquired. There aren’t a lot of things that could stun Harry, as long as he’s been around he normally has a response to anything and everything within a couple of seconds – but he sits with this for a little longer. His fingers, where they’d rested on her waist, began to play with the fabric of her shirt, plucking at the hem and fiddling with the stitches. The tension in the air is palpable, but it isn’t a horrible tension. Not something she wanted to run away from, at least.

“Niall,” Harry finally muttered, like he’d been spending half of the time he was silent, trying to figure out how Y/N would have heard that, “That fucker is too good at masking his presence.”

“Harry –”

“I know,” he exhales, and Y/N thinks it’s funny that he does things like this not because he’s releasing a breath, but to express how he’s feeling. He nudges the side of her head with his own and dips his nose into the curve of her throat, his favorite spot, “With you at my flat, and with how you’d been eating from me still, the – how I felt for you was becoming concerning and a little obsessive. Not in like an obsessive “I’m going to kill her so nobody else can have her” way, more like a “I want to be near her and I’m forgoing responsibilities to spend time with her” kind of way. I don’t do that, for people, I’m not. . .so giving with my time, which makes me sound like a dick, but it’s the truth. I have my time and they have theirs, even if it’s someone that I’m interested in,” he slides his fingers beneath her shirt’s fabric, his nails tracing circles into her skin, “But with you, I just. . .wanted to be around you. To be with you makes me feel calm; it soothes me like putting ice on a sprain. And for you to drink from my vein and our bodies react so intensely to it. . .well, it had to be something.”

“I was glad to ignore it and just continue enjoying myself with you, but I was getting curious. And I knew you and Niall would make up soon, and you’re so concerned about being a burden all of the time, I knew you wouldn’t take me up on my offer to stay with me. This meant I was going to be coming around her, and being way more possessive and clingy than I ever have before and Mitch always knows what’s going on in the house. He would ask me about it eventually, so I just beat him to it.” He lifted his head, and his words were less muffled when he coaxes her to lean back against his chest more, “He went into the most intricate, convoluted discussion about molecules, and vampiric folklore, and I’ll be honest most of it went right over my fucking head, except for him saying that we were bound together by our souls. That whether we had met like this, or centuries ago in my village, while I was running from war, or had I just been some random UNI student sitting beside you in class – we would always have this kind of connection. It’s rare,” he squeezes her hips, “It’s a rare thing, a really rare thing, and it used to happen more often back in the 1600s but that doesn’t mean it never happens now.”

Y/N cranes her neck to face him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her brows pinched toward the center, and Harry reached out, using his thumb to press at the crinkle in her skin and smooth it out.

“I wanted to, but – I don’t know. I kind of wanted you to conclude for yourself, if you liked me or not. I didn’t want it to feel forced because you knew about this. Other than my blood making you a filthy, horny little thing, I don’t know exactly what your feelings are for me. And I know – you told me you feel whole after you drink from me, but again, outside of that – outside of the blood, I don’t know how you feel.”

Y/N thinks, that if she’d eaten recently, blood would be roaring in her ears and her heart would be thudding something fierce in her chest. It was one thing to have Niall tell her on a whim, it was another thing for Harry to admit it to her, all shy, avoiding her gaze and pressing tight and close to her body. It was another thing to hear him feel insecure about not knowing how she felt about him.

Because for Y/N, she’d thought she’d been incredibly obvious. She wanted to be around him always, she recognized his scent out of everyone anywhere, she felt safe when his hands were on her in some way, or even when he was just nearby. Even when he was short with her, or grumpy, Y/N had felt endlessly at ease. After what happened at the club, he was the only person she wanted to be around. The way her heart lights up when he calls her sweet names, or when she sees him for the first time in a while. How her whole mind swam at the prospect of him rather hurting his hands than letting anyone else see her vulnerable when she’d been in the sun. No matter when he lost his patience, or when he seemed upset, or even when he swore up and down that he shouldn’t be a mentor – he was supportive, tender, and made her head feel melty and her insides gossamer soft.

“I have plenty of reason to like you, outside of some bond,” she finally replied, wiggling in his arms to face him again – Leaf got up, stumbled out of her lap, then stretched with a silent yawn, “And it wasn’t just after eating. Just being with you makes me feel. . .complete, just as I said before. I thought it was just the blood, but when you leave for work and we’re separated, there’s a – it’s noticeable, the gape I feel in your absence.” Y/N curled her fingers up in his shirt, “I mean, how I feel for you, surpasses how I ever felt for Daniel, my old friend. As dramatic as it is, I’d thought I would never be able to love again –”

“Oh, you humans and your theatrics,” he murmured with a laugh and Y/N smiled shyly, looking away.

“-- but the way I’ve felt about you lately, I just don’t think whatever puppy love crush I had on him scratches the surface. Sorry, I wasn’t clear about it. I’d been so focused on trying to figure out my place in this world again and how to live life like this, that I hadn’t given myself a chance to sit and sort through my emotions. But they’re there – they’re real and scary.”

Harry kisses her – she wasn’t expecting it, but she’d completely turned around in his lap by then so at least the angle wasn’t horrible. His lips are soft, and without the preface of something lewd, it is saccharine and chaste. Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into him, practically molding herself into the shape of his body. It was good – Harry’s been treating her delicately for a while now, but this was different. Like he was kissing something important to him. Something that he wanted to handle with softhearted gloves.

When they part, Harry kisses the corner of her mouth, then her right cheek, her temple, over her forehead, and down the other side of her face. They’re feather-light and ticklish but his arms cage her in so she couldn’t wiggle away, helpless but to giggle. Once he finishes, he hums low and their eyes meet.

“I’ll be keeping you, so get used to this.” He admitted, and if he’d eaten recently, then his cheeks would have flushed pink the way they do anytime he’s sentimental.

Y/N nodded and hid herself in his chest.

She didn’t mind that at all.

. . .

Harry couldn’t wait to see her.

He used to take great pleasure in his week to two-week-long trips out of the country for work, whether he was going to Dubai, Milan, Paris, or other places like it. Harry would gorge on international feeders and sex and all the adoration from people who question his otherworldly beauty and get lost in his sharp gaze. It was nice to be sought after, admired, to get his fill of all the blood he wanted. He thought it was a fair trade, for all those years ago, when he’d been scrawny and worthless to everyone.

However, now? He just can’t wait to get home. Without the sex and the gorging, there actually wasn’t a whole lot to do in any of those spots that he hadn’t done thousands and thousands of times before. It was work, strictly work, and there was no sort of pleasure, apart from the gratification of seeing one of his looks trek down the runway. Besides that, there was only one person he wanted to sleep with now, one person he wanted to be adored by, and only one person he wished to get lost in his gaze.

And she was thousands of kilometers away from him, probably coding some program that made no sense to his brain, in his sweatshirt that he made her promise to wear and those horrific (and endearingly cute) slippers shaped like cats that she picked up from the store in honor of Leaf (who liked to chew on them when Y/N wiggled her toes). Even on the plane ride back home, he wondered how he could make it quicker – if there was a way to travel even faster than a plane. He supposes he could run, his legs are quite fast, but if someone spotted him going a little too fast to be human, then that would be a whole other list of shit to deal with instead of just tucking himself into Y/N’s side.

So as soon as he was finished up, the models had gone home, he’d given his statement for editorials, and he’d shared one glass of wine with a designer he really couldn’t be arsed to learn the name of (he’d drank with types like Chanel and Dior in the past, so the glitz and glamor of it now are easily lost on him) – Harry was on a plane and headed home. He used the in-flight wifi to watch a movie Y/N had suggested to him, but he was barely paying attention. How could he, when he was so excited to get home to her?

It was crazy to think this was where their relationship had ended up. She used to be nothing but an obnoxious little thorn in his side and now all he wants to do is smother her with affection and give her his blood. Y/N was so important to him, it made his heart feel heavy and full for the first time in. . .well, he isn’t sure it’s ever felt this heavy and full before. The weight in his chest is unfamiliar, and at first, it had been unwelcomed, but he likes it now. It’s as if she’d curled her body around it and took residence there. She’s always with him, in that sense of it.

The others had gotten used to it far quicker than he’d imagined they would. He expected more teasing as well, but they all like Y/N a lot, so he guesses to tease him is to tease her indirectly and they don’t want to. The most he gets is scolded that he isn’t good at sharing, and why should he be? Harry feels like he’d spent centuries waiting for her, now that he has her – doesn’t he deserve to be a little selfish? Especially after a week of not seeing her, Harry just wants her all to himself. That’s why he suggested that she come to his flat the first day he’s back, so they could be alone.

So he’s more than happy, after the flight, after getting his shit from baggage claim and finding his car in the mass of other vehicles parked for overnight trips, and the 30-minute long drive from the airport to his flat – to see her just as he’d envisioned her. Only with a few additions; she wore the sweatshirt, and she had on these little shorts that were filthy (but she swore up and down she wore them because they were comfortable and not to taunt him with how little it would take before her bum was out), but tucked under her thigh was Leaf’s feather toy. Whenever Y/N was working, Leaf could go from sleeping peacefully at her side to the zoomies in all of three seconds, so this was her way of keeping her preoccupied – the stick was placed just precisely so that the feather and the string hung off the side of the couch for Leaf to jump and pull at. Y/N has pretty decent thigh muscles so she’s able to keep it in place without letting it move around too much.

She has those horrible little booties on, but she’s wrapped up in the throw blanket that Harry usually has wrapped around him – not for warmth, of course, but the way soft fibers feel against his skin is nice. He knows Y/N is not using it for that purpose because it touches nowhere that her skin shows, besides a little bit of her face. Y/N has it so close to her so that she can smell him, and Harry is just. . .so endeared by that he could scream.

When he walked through the door, Y/N turned to face him with a big grin. She slid her computer out of her lap, and Leaf’s toy fell to the ground once she stood, carefully stepping over the kitten, and getting up on the other sofa so she could climb over it. She gets to him quicker this way, and her arms slink around his neck, and she holds him close, “Finally,” she murmured, “A week is too long.”

“You could always come with me.” He smiled into her hair, letting his eyes close – it was good to have her in his arms again, “I don’t think they’d mind a puppy backstage.”

Y/N peeled away from him, flicking him in the center of his chest, “Shut up,” she threw at him, but it held no real spite, and her eyes were dripping in mirth, “Should I dress myself then show up?”

“Oh, baby, please don’t – let me be the one to dress you.”

It was nice, that back and forth, and had Harry not felt so keyed up then he probably would have started a load of laundry, showered, gotten in more comfortable clothes and they could have just hung out for the night.

But Harry was keyed up – a week away from Y/N meant a week away from not only her beautiful brain, but her beautiful body as well, and he was missing the sounds she’d make when his fingers slid against her. How easy she was to rile up, the way she tasted on his tongue, how dripping wet she got from even just a little bit of Harry’s blood in her. It’s precisely why he’d eaten so much before leaving, and he’s sure she could tell he’d just eaten recently, with how warm his cheeks felt they must be rosy. And that flush on his pale skin is clear as day, especially how it slithers down his throat, and if he’s really worked up, it might splotch his chest.

“When’s the last time you ate, Sweetheart?” He inquired – the icy little tip of her nose was enough to tell him it had been a while.

“Mm, I had some earlier, when I woke up,” she explained, “But I got distracted with work, so I haven’t since.”

Normally, Harry might chide her for that, but he’s all too excited to offer his throat, “I have a treat for you then,” he placed his hands on her hips, walking her backward, “Get on the couch.”

Where Y/N used to start on the side of his body and eventually make her way into his lap while she ate, she just crawled into his lap now to cut out the unnecessary jostling around. The weight of her in his lap is familiar, nice, and something he didn’t realize that he missed until he was away from her. She stretches her thighs on either side of him and scoots in very close; Harry is already half hard, and he isn’t sure if he’d been like this since he saw her, or on the plane when he’d even just thought about her. Whatever it was and whenever it was, he was definitely already getting hard just from the anticipation of her teeth in his neck. It felt like young adulthood all over again, when it wasn’t “mind over matter”, and Harry couldn’t help but get hard in three seconds from one thought.

“I missed you,” she tells him, pressing her chest up against his, her nipples were already hard and Harry felt dizzy with the want burgeoning up from deep in his belly, “So much, and you were only gone for a week. It’s a little embarrassing.”

“I miss you when I leave you alone for an hour,” he slides his hand on the nape of her neck and brings her closer, “Isn’t embarrassing. I’m flattered that you like me enough to miss me, even. Now take what you need, baby, I ate enough to fill you up.”

The slide of her teeth into his skin never gets old, especially when it’s his throat. There’s a bite of pain, immediately soothed over by the euphoric feeling of it not only being a vampire bite, but a Y/N bite. The way she goes about it is still so tentative to start, and unsure, like she’s worried about hurting him – but the moment she tastes his blood on her tongue, all that vanishes. She moaned against his neck like she’d been starving for months and he’d finally come to save her, her fingers digging into his body wherever her hands lie. Harry can feel her inhibitions leave her, the way she gulps, drinks him down, and takes her fill how he wants her to.

It’s always after a minute that Y/N’s body starts to move out of tandem with her. She hates that she starts rutting against him like an overexcited puppy, but that doesn’t stop the way her hips twitch and push closer to him while she’s eating. Harry’s hand slid from her neck, to meet his other at her hips, holding her still as she rolled her hips into him greedily. “Mm, it feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Especially after not having it for so long,” Harry shuddered, closing his eyes as he melted into the feeling, “I bet your pussy is already soaked.”

Y/N whines, and he can only imagine how debauched the scene must look from an outsider's perspective. Her hands slip under his shirt, fingers tracing along his stomach and when the muscles in his abdomen tense up, his cock throbs to match. Harry’s fully hard now, and he thinks he’s already leaking, dripping into the inside of his trousers because he was always one to forgo underwear when it caused lines in his pants. Y/N lines herself up with him, tucking him into the folds because her pussy just swallows these shorts up, and rolls into him, “That’s it,” he whispered, “Such a good girl, you can have anything you want.”

The times she bites his throat aren’t always for pleasure. Harry still tries to prepare her for the first time she will meet with a feeder, so each time Y/N eats she gets better and better. She’s learned to stop when she’s full and to not overstuff herself just because it tastes good. She also has learned to read the queues of the other person, that she might have had too much – it’d be different for a human, but she can tell by the way Harry might start feeling even a degree less warm than he began as.

He isn’t sure what coaxes her to stop today. She pulled away from his neck and lulled her tongue over the little puncture wounds in his skin, before moving so she faced him. Y/N made a pretty sight with her hazy eyes and her mouth stained red. Before he could spend too much time admiring her, she fixes her lips against his, slips her tongue into his mouth, and oh fuck.

She’d kept some of his blood in her mouth, so it filled his own when she kissed him, and his eyes all but rolled up to the back of his head. Who had taught her something so filthy? His cock throbs so hard in his pants and he’s leaking so much precum he’s wondered if he’s cum already – he’s sure it’s sticky and webby beyond belief around the head of his cock, and Y/N isn’t helping the matter, she’s just making it worse.

Harry takes her by the chin, parts her lips, and makes sure they stay open. Without having to instruct her, she presses the tip of her tongue to her bottom lip, waiting patiently – normally Harry places a couple of fingers on her tongue for her to suck and bite at, so he presumes that’s what she was expecting. But Harry couldn’t help himself, and if Y/N was going to be filthy, then he was going to be filthier, so he encased her tongue and her bottom lip with his mouth and suckled at it. When Y/N mewls, he takes more of her in, sucking the taste of him off her tongue while he pries at her little shorts. He was in no mood for her to get off his lap to wiggle them down, so he tore them, shredding the fabric.

She makes a startled sound, mixed with a moan when Harry slips his tongue back into her mouth to kiss her properly again. Harry’s head spins when he backs away from her – they could kiss forever without needing to take a single breath (or they would be able to one day when Y/N really didn’t need to use her lungs anymore), but Harry wanted to look at her. Want to see her with lips bitten red and swollen, filled with blood that Harry kind of wants to knick with his tooth and drink from. He presses at her chest just a little so she stretches back, and he gathers the fabric at the bottom of her shirt in between his thumb and index finger, pressing it up her quivering belly.

Her pussy is puffy and swollen and soaking wet, he would’ve thought she’d been touching herself before he’d come home. He can’t tell if he wants to bury his face or his cock into it more, but another hard throb suggests he’d better do the latter or he would cum hard in his pants. He uses his fingers to spread her open, showing off the engorged bud of her clit, chuckling brightly when it pulses beneath his attention. Harry is unsure what drives him to sink his fingers lower, get three of them wet then return to her clit to slap it, but he does, and the payoff is Y/N trying to close her legs around him with the most wanton of sounds. He does it again, a little harder, and Y/N’s hand comes to grab his wrist, “I’ll cum,” she whines like that was supposed to deter him, “I’ll cum if you keep going.”

“Isn’t that the point?” He murmured, sliding his fingers through her juices and tucking them up inside of her, petting at her g-spot for a second before slipping them back out and licking her off his hand, “Want you to cum.”

“I wanna cum with you in me,” she sounded like she was pleading with him, and Harry had always been a sucker for pretty girls begging, “Please?”

Harry’s quick to work the button of his trousers open, pulling the zip and removing his cock from the oppressive confines of it. He’s harder than he’d even thought, but he was right to assume that he’d leaked so much precum it looked like he’d cum. The clear fluid oozes from the tip in a long, sticky line, filling up the dip of his hip bone. Y/N ogles him with awe-filled eyes, “Whoa,” she swallowed thickly, her fingers tracing up the underside from his balls to the tip, in a move he doesn’t think she means to be as teasing as it is, “You’re really hard.”

“I know,” he bites down hard on his bottom lip as he throbs again, under her attention, in the coolness of the air.

“Like, harder than I’ve ever seen you,” she states, and now her palm slides against his shaft, and she squeezes experimentally, looking between him and his cock, “And you’re so wet –”

“Y/N,” he just barely holds back from whimpering, “No teasing, Darling, I need to fuck this into you or I’ll cum all over myself. You don’t want to waste it, do you?” He inquired, and Y/N shook her head, scooting closer, “Yeah, let me fill you up, Baby, want to watch it fucking drip out of you when we’re done.”

She visibly shivered again, and Harry helped her lift and slide his cock inside of her. Y/N moans, her face pinches up from the pressure of him against her walls but she slips right on down like he belonged inside of her. Harry thinks Y/N likes the stretch – the burn of it, as long as it doesn’t border on too painful. She bottoms out, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she smushes their lips together. The kiss is brief before she nips at his plush bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. While she does that, Harry presses his upper lip just above hers, his fingers digging into her thighs as she squeezes around him, accommodating his size. Her walls were velvety soft and smooth as they contract around him, the ridges and bumps something he’s set on memorizing.

Her ministrations with her mouth go to his chin, she kisses then bites her way down his jaw, to his ear, laving her tongue over the little wounds that were no doubt closing and healing over by now. Harry offers her his hand when he realizes that she must want to bite something, and he’d made the right assumption when she fits his knuckles between her teeth and chews on him. Harry laughs as she starts to lift her hips, then drops back down onto him, “You’re so fucking cute,” he chuckled, “Should we get you a chew toy? A little bone for a puppy like you?”

“Shut up,” her words are muffled around his fingers in her mouth but she’s riding him well. It feels so fucking good, Harry is holding onto every last bit of strength not to cum before her. A damning feat to accomplish when she finds the angle that hits that bundle of nerves inside of her just right – she clamps down on him, her eyes bead with tears as she fucks down onto him, and nibbles at his fingers.

“Do you feel good, Baby? S’my cock stretching you out nice?” Y/N nodded, whining, “You can cum for me. Don’t you want that? Cum on me and I’ll fill this little pussy right up.”

Harry shoves the sweatshirt up so it rests just above her bare tits, or at least enough that he can visualize them and then get one into his mouth. Her nipples are still hard, so pert and sensitive for him when he pulls them between his teeth and lulls his tongue in big circles around them. Harry alternates between sucking hard and flicking his tongue, and Y/N goes from chewing on his knuckles to holding them uselessly in her mouth and moaning around them. Harry feels her start to cum before she can even tell him through these breathy little whines.

He isn’t ashamed to say he starts cumming before she could finish – he makes sure to work her through it still, fucking through the point of overstimulation, his thumb lulling on her clit when he raised his feet onto the coffee table and started to fuck into her. Harry fills her up, his orgasm splinters through him so intensely that he thinks his vision whites out for a second. He’s throbbing so hard inside of her, he knows she could feel it each time, and in response to each one, she mewls and sighs as she finally starts to come down from her own high.

Harry untucks his face from her chest just as Y/N drops his fingers from her mouth. He’s still tucked inside of her but his cum slicks out from around where his cock is plugging her up, too much of it to even keep inside. The feeling is a little atrocious as it cools, but the thought of what it must look like almost has him stiffening up again.

Y/N all but collapsed onto him, and Harry oofs! dramatically, before wrapping her up in his arms. Her arms moved to hug around his waist this time, and she murmured something on his shoulder that he couldn’t quite make out. She turns her head, so her cheek rests against his shoulder instead, “I said I really missed you,” she repeated, “I’m happy you’re back home.”

A lot of responses run through Harry’s head, including, but not limited to I’m happy you’re here with me, I’m happy you’re in my life, I’m happy my cum is dripping out of you right now, I’m happy that our fates matched in this way, I’m happy that we have a kitten name Leaf, I’m happy our souls are bound together.

Harry doesn’t though. He thinks them, and he smiles to himself when he replies with something that he’s pretty sure covers all of that.

“I’m happy too.”

#WOOOOOOO #OKAY YAY #SORRY IT TOOK LONG #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT!#I REMEMBERED THE TONGUE SUCKING!!!#WRITING #HARRY STYLES SMUT #HARRY SMUT #YAHTZEEE #OKAY #HOPE YOU LOVE IT #LOVE YOU

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baddiewiththebook · 1 year

Text

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

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singmyaubade · 1 year

Text

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

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