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joyofkinoko · 2 years

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My Cross to Bear | fifteen (1.2k words)

The Budget Ghostbusters are called in to investigate the allegedly haunted Gom Theatre in Seoul, and you are a rising actress cast in the latest show, ironically “the Phantom of the Opera”. With both the spirits of the theatre and the critics of the industry down your throat and out for your blood, you find your only comfort in Choi Beomgyu, the sweetheart YouTube cameraman.

.: coworkers to lovers .:. female reader .:. fluff, hurt/comfort, paranormal :.

.: tw: paranormal elements, mature language, near-death experiences :.

.: masterlist .:. budget ghostbusters :.

“So... How is this supposed to work again?” you sincerely questioned, watching intently as the boys who call themselves Budget Ghostbusters ran about the stage in the empty, silent theatre setting up their equipment.

“Well, we were thinking of using a spirit board, but Flower hates them,” Beomgyu frowns, earning a displeased but joking punch on the arm from the targetted girl. Flower is both Soobin’s assistant and girlfriend (which isn’t an HR problem since he is HR), and while she mostly does office work, Hueningkai had a family emergency and they needed a fifth hand to help out with filming.

It’s just before the midnight of a Saturday when people your age are normally expected to be spending time at parties or with loved ones. And yet here you all are, preparing for a potentially dangerous evening ahead for the purpose of earning social media clout and discovering the source of whatever weird shit is going on in your theatre.

“I have a history of disaster with those stupid little boards,” she frowns as she begins using a lighter on the candles in the middle of the stage.

You are endeared when you see Soobin smile to himself, running up behind her to place a surprise kiss on her cheek. “Disaster? That night was quite the memory to me.”

“You weren’t even there,” Taehyun deadpans, polishing a pendulum that would serve as the evening’s main communicative model with the ‘other side’.

“Still a memory,” Soobin shrugs fondly, and while you don’t have the full context, shared eye contact with Sunghoon, sat patiently next to you, confirms that the ‘memory’ in discussion must have to do with their history together. Romance, after all, can come from the most disastrous situations.

Your romance with Beomgyu might (keyword: might) be one-sided, but you really wouldn’t have even met him had you never been injured. Oh well, the friendship is enough.

“So, do, like, just the worst things happen at these?” you ask to clarify.

“Honestly, it’s really nothing more than strong wind and electronic disturbance,” Flower admits. “It’s just... unsettling.”

“And she wasn’t even a believer back when we first hired her!” Yeonjun points out proudly.

“Wait, so you’re saying none of your videos are faked?” Sunghoon’s jaw drops and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “I’ve watched every single one about a million times but I mean, I’ve had my doubts you know?”

“Our reactions have been played up before,” Taehyun coolly admits, receiving a disapproving look from the other boys. From your observations, Taehyun and Sunghoon seem to have genuinely bonded recently and you can’t help but wonder how that may have happened considering their personalities. “But we’ve never faked evidence.”

Nodding thoughtfully, you look to Beomgyu. “So, you really all believe in this stuff?”

“You don’t?” Beomgyu looks almost surprised, tilting his pretty head towards you. “Your leg is literally evidence.”

Shaking your head with a grimace. “I think,” you pause for dramatic effect, “that this theatre is dirty and decrepit and accidents happen.”

“Killjoy,” Sunghoon pouts, pushing himself out of his chair once the set up in the middle of the stage seems ready to go.

“Besides, if there really are spirits, then I might genuinely get hurt... again, so I’d rather be a skeptic right now,” you add, receiving understandable nods from the small crowd. With a soft smile that makes your heart melt, Beomgyu makes his way over to you, holding you by the waist as he guides you to your seat at the seance table.

As the final touches to the set-up are put together, Sunghoon heads backstage to shut off the main theatre lights, leaving the only source of light to the few candles on the table and two studio lights. With Beomgyu to your left and Taehyun to your right, the mood switches.

Taehyun briefly explains how things are meant to go as Yeonjun lights the frankincense sticks. “With a pendulum, we can pretty much only ask yes or no questions,” he starts, offering his hands to you and Yeonjun on his other side. “Back-and-forth means yes, sideways for no, and if it spins in a circular motion, it’s a maybe.”

“Maybe?” Sunghoon comments unsurely.

“Or neither,” Taehyun shrugs, taking a deep breath. “Everyone’s holding hands? Okay, perfect. Do not let go under any circumstances. We have to end the seance before we break our circle, got it?” Murmurs of yesses dance across the table. “Well then, let’s begin.”

The seance starts off calmly, with Taehyun and Sunghoon quickly establishing a dynamic for comedic aspect of the segment where Taehyun tries his best to act seriously and Sunghoon making side comments. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how pleased Soobin is with him as a guest and you almost feel proud.

And with all that occurring, you place your attention to your left hand, fingers intertwined with the boy you’ve been all but enamored with for the past few weeks. In his kindness and his pretty mullet, you find yourself grateful for the lack of lighting, blushing inappropriately at a seance because you’re holding hands with a boy.

Minutes pass with only Taehyun’s voice and passing comments from the others at the table, and all attempts seem futile with the pendulum refusing to even move half an inch.

You can tell Soobin’s just about to call it quits when a piercing screech echoes throughout the hall, throwing you right back to the event days prior when the microphone feedback blew out the speakers after odd whispers of words. Taehyun holds your hand tighter, and you can feel Beomgyu do the same, tugging you closer to him and looping his arm around yours as the feedback continues.

“What the fuck is going on?” Yeonjun calls out as Taehyun begins yelling out the questions he’s already asked.

“The pendulum!” Sunghoon points out, yelling over the screech. Your eyes widen, heart almost stopping at the sight of the pendulum swinging in fast circles, essentially confirming, at the very least, a presence in the theatre. “Taehyun, what do we do?”

“Fuck, I’ve about said about all I need to but we’re getting nothing!”

Sunghoon begins insisting that he let go in order to run to the back to turn off the sound system (though it had been previously double-checked and should have been turned off already). And while Taehyun and Yeonjun seem to be begging for the final call from Soobin, he’s too busy focusing on Flower’s anxiety and double-checking their filming equipment from afar.

Beomgyu’s thumb begins to calmly smooth over the back of your hand, about the only thing that’s calming in the theatre as they all start to yell at each other. “Ask a question, Teddy,” he says to you, and though his volume is overshadowed by all the noise, you hear him and his sincerity.

You whip your head over to him, face wrinkled together from trying to hear your own thoughts in the theatre. He’s just as affected by the noise, but his kind, wide eyes are only on yours. Even in the dark of the stage, you see his concern, and though he had told you to ask a question, you utter the first word that’s come to your mind.

“Stop!”

And all indeed does.

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koreyeet · 2 years

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my brain is hyperfixating on a future nextgen/ fankid au i made like a year ago

more to come this is just like the first family

ok so something something Knuckles and Rouge character development and maturity

they are in love and are married

they have kids too

Howl is the oldest one (17) and is glued to Angel Island, she will leave to go clothes shopping or visit her one friend if he doesn’t come over himself but other then that she’s with her dad with the Master Emerald, she does look over it by herself during the night or to let her dad take a break, she’s very capable of handling it so no one worries about it. Her parents describe her as exactly like Knuckles when he was a teenager, she takes pride in that but Knuckles is in mourning because she is just like him. Growing up she was mainly taken cared of by Knuckles, mainly cause Rouge has an actual job and Knuckles stands in front of a rock all day, her mom does stay when she doesnt have work and has family time and stuff, she was there in her life, her dad was mainly the nurturer. From this she does have a stronger connection to her dad compared to her siblings that’s why she’s so much like him.

Ruth is the middle kid (12) and is pretty much like Rouge when she was younger with none of the flirting. She really is her parents daughter, she has her dad’s strength and her mom’s skills, and is real good at picking up new tricks but will get frustrated if it takes her more then two tries, which makes her a great companion when she goes on missions with her mom. Shes also the one taken on treasure hunts (Howl doesn’t like it and Drill is literally 5), shes not a big fan of getting dirty but if she sees a shine she will run through mud to check it out. Ruth is seen as more of the normal one and will call her family weird in a loving way.

Drill is the youngest (5) and is the most odd, he’s real independent at his age and tends to stick to himself, probably drawing in the dirt. He’s obedient to his parents and will do what he’s asked, if he feels like it. Dude is normal something about him just seems weird no one knows why. He kind of flip flops from being with Rouge and Knuckles either being in the city or being on the island.

probably gonna add more later

#sonic au #sonic fankids #knouge #Howlite the Bat #Ruth the Echidna #Drill the Echidna #rouge the bat #knuckles the echidna #i sure do love my ocs #knuckles and rouge are like in there 40's in this #this is like 25+ years in the future

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cescalr · 10 months

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... glances left and right.... okay, they're all gone.

quick. MCYT headcanons.

DSMP -

Some general backstory, appearance, and hybrid status headcanons.

Wilbur;

Only biological child Phil has with his wife, Lady Death. Avian hybrid, magpie.

Wings start out mostly white, gain black feathers over time. At the start of the DSMP, they're fully white.

Dumbass doesn't shower or wash his clothes (gross - also literally canon, alas), so the same goes for his wings - they get pretty dirty.

Wilbur can hide his wings at will and does so when the black feathers start getting noticeable during the Pogtopia era. He dies with them hidden, but they manifest upon loss of life. Mostly black, with a white stripe through the middle, horizontal.

Ghostbur doesn't have wings. He has little black feathers in his hair, though, mostly hidden within the curls. Revival makes him unable to hide his wings. They're ragged and unable to fly, even once cared for. They're fully black, seeming to accrue soot from nowhere constantly for the first few months. Afterwards, they reset to a jagged white stripe through the horizontal middle, which dirties to cream.

His fingers are stained with gunpowder he can't get rid of, but they don't seem to be dangerous because he doesn't stop smoking. (alternatively, he doesn't care).

Wilbur requires skin grafts, the tone slightly different from his own, and the skill of stitching somewhat amateur. His hair is the same as before death, though the tone is more ashen - peppered with grey. There's a white streak at the front, a large and unavoidable chunk of dead, old hair. Overtime turns cream because, again - dumbass doesn't shower.

His jumper is the same one he died in. bothered to stitch up the front, but not the back, which is hidden under his jacket. He used an old L'Manberg flag, tattered but not faded, to patch up the hole in his coat. He never bothers to remove the old bandage tied around his arm, so there's a fun little bloodstained bit of cloth hiding a slash in the fabric. Again, Wilbur and self-care have never become acquainted.

His old glasses have been replaced with red lenses because of a newly gained sunlight sensitivity after over a decade in the dark subway station of limbo*.

*it's something he remembers only vaguely from his childhood, a school trip to some NYC SMP or somewhere else in some other American-born land, somewhere that's a big enough city for an underground rail system. It blends with Wilbur's memories of the London Underground from the few times he visited the various Londons of various SMP Earths. It smells like Utah, like the old gas station convenience store he worked at for a short stint. Cigarettes and cleaning fluid.

Basically; Wilbur's hybrid status goes Dove -> Magpie -> Crow... ish. It goes back to Magpie Post-Return to Utah/DSMP Reset, and stays that way.

Look of wings is dependent mostly on his age; Phill went through a similar process. It's an Angel thing.

Wilbur's a little different, though, because he's not a human-turned-angel or a born-angel or whatever. He's nephilim, technically. Also a demigod, because of Kirsten, Lady Death, and all.

Wilbur is not human - he just looks it. Phill may once have been human, but he was Lady Death's Angel of Death when they had Wil, so ergo wilbur is 1/2 Angel, 1/2 God. This allows for the circumstances of Fundy's birth (also just him being intersex in general would do that, but... yk. Fundy is also a goddamn fox, so, not exactly normal stuff going on here. I have Fundy as a kind of changeling/fae being because i have Sally as a fae/shapeshifter, to preserve some of my sanity. Wilbur might've been fucked by a fish, but that's just a crass way of saying he had sex with a lady who spends most of her time in freshwater rivers... I am not literally canonically having him perform acts of bestiality. I refuse.)

Quackity;

While the duck q is fun (the idea actually is kind of like... interesting? Like the whole point is that people think nothing of ducks they think they're harmless and kind of cute and it's like - the ideas of perception vs what a person is actually like and its neat in its own way - it's like, BITCH YOU THOUGHT? and he eats his dead husband's heart like that's. juicy. there's a lot of meat on that bone. however i think fandom has sunk their teeth in so deep only the marrow's left so i go a different path. but i'm ok with duck hybrid q when it's not used Weirdly, i just don't use it myself) I like to use it as a decoy, you know, a false assumption - a red herring, so; not a duck hybrid. And I go with pretending to be a duck hybrid because it gets him underestimated but also because the actual kind of hybrid he is gets poor treatment because if you're going to society something then go full fucking hog guys! If hybrids and societal norms about hybrids exist and assumptions are made about a person's nature because of their assumed status then go the whole mile, not just a short walk. Anyway he's like an 1/8th human 1/2 siren and the rest sea dragon. And yes. He's an obligate carnivore. Hehe >:).

The fact of the matter is that sirens (and to an extent, dragons also) eat people and he's not wanting to deal with that particularly negative preconception. (Like. Re: Social ramifications and the unexplored nature of hybrids in MCYT fics that take SMP Earths as canon; If your species is inherently predatory to humankind and its ilk then how would that get you treated in a human-dominant society hello?????

I guess I'm cribbing a bit from zootopia here but humans are both predators and prey like... would cannibalistic species be forced to register because its basically assumed they're all murderers?)

Q's an obligate carnivore but can consume plants with little to no trouble, depending on the plant. has a strong hold on his instincts but can easily be pushed into instability and some pretty bad actions by his draconian instincts... like if, say, his husband, like, dies. or his best friend. Hoarding tendencies are most often aimed at people, which is problematic. does like shiny things and has an innate preference for armour, though the armour doesn't have to be literal. protective instincts can flip to negative pretty easily. tends towards obsession. violent/pugnacious, vents most of this through language use but doesn't have a good handle on his temper (mostly a him thing). poor self-awareness is just a him thing, though. and some of his behaviours are more linked to trauma (lack of trust) than nature (cannibalism. oops.)

Quackity got to the DSMP via Captain Puffy's boat. He's the son of one of her crewmen, a sea-dragon hybrid, and a siren he met while at sea. they both died to a tsunami on her home island*, in service of saving their son.

*His dad was a sailor and the human/sea dragon, his mum the siren, they lived on her island for a few years until Big Storm. Q survived. Technically immortal bc. Sirens and sea dragons are immortal. But also Not because humans aren't. Complicated.

Immortal in the long lived sense. Can be killed. Easily. That 1/8th human is a bitch!

Roughly 1/8th human, 3/8th dragon, 1/2 siren.

Tubbo -

BLOND

HE IS BLOND

THAT TEENAGER. IS A BLOND PERSON. LOOK AT HIM.

4. HE. IS. BLOND. I am not going crazy!!!!!! Stop saying he's not blond!!!! he is!!!! It does not matter what the cc looks like and never has. Just take Rythian Enderborn as proof of that. Mumbo K Jumbo. I could go on. But my point stands. Tubbo is blond. Whatever the cc looks like is IRRELEVANT.

5. Annoyed rant over now. anyway.

6. humanoid shapeshifter. can't change very much; flips between fully human, goat-horned, or with bee antennae. By the Reset, he's settled into sticking with both at the same time, though startling him can change their placement/shape/size.

JSchlatt -

I elongate the timeline of the DSMP. Ic it's something like months - i make it take a few years, like it did IRL, because the improv nature made the aging up of the cc!s apply in-story (mostly for the younger lot, like Tommy and Tubbo), and that doesn't make sense otherwise (Having the rest of the characters stay the same age while they grow up would be weird. I mean, Nikki even has a birthday, so aging is canon to the story where it isn't canon to something like the YogsMC Tekkit/FTB timeline (though is to SOI - we do meet Old Peculiar, after all, and then in YL we meet Old Honeydew and Xephos...) so maybe not a great example. But Still!).)

He's 21 when he arrives, and dies at 23, instead of the canonical 21. This is so i can have Ghost Stories by the Narcissist's Cookbook apply, as in, be from his perspective, at least a little. Do I care if this makes sense? No. Leave now if you think the DSMP has any truly, wholly good characters. I do not. Every single one of them is nuanced in one way or another, some of them worse and some of them better, but none of them directly good, except maybe Slime. I'm only talking about the ones that got directly involved with the storylines. If someone didn't come up (get involved), then they don't exactly 'count'. (It's like Minty Minute in yogsmc. Like, she was there! in the tekkit timeline! but does anyone know this? No! We never saw her! People forget she was a character... Do think a lot of the at-the-time sjips fans wrote her out on purpose, and now it's a sort of, well, her only real tie was that she was dating sjin, and THAT is a whole bag of worms these days, so just... write her out... but that's lazy. I don't like that! She was only really relevant to a few episodes of blackrock she didn't even appear in anway. I'd tie her more to that squad than to anyone else.)

ANYWAY

Dies of 'broken heart syndrome' because i love angst

Is a wolf/sheep hybrid. 1/2 human, 1/4 wolf, 1/4 sheep, i guess. Nobody was fucking any animals though, don't get it twisted. Genetic experiments are really common in MC worlds. Splicing is a dime a dozen. (He's also not actually any of these things, but he doesn't know that. Amnesia!)

His mum was a wolf hybrid, his dad was a ram hybrid.

People don't know the wolf part, because it's antithetical to his desires to scam people with schlattcoin if they think he's going to eat them.

The wolf part gives him still human-normal sharper canines, and his need for a high protein diet, hence the preference for shakes and steaks.

The only outward signs of the hybrid status are that, his keratin ram horns and rectangular pupils. People usually clock the ram immediately, and don't look for anything else.

Also, yes, I couldn't resist the wolf in sheep's clothing idea once it came to me. sue me. that's so funny.

After revival; his eyes are silver, like the colour's been bleached out (they were golden, before.). His hair's a little lighter, faded. There's a few streaks of white. His facial hair gets the most salt amongst the pepper, but it's not nearly as noticeable as Wilbur's state because it's a whole new body given... er, what happened to the. Last one. Yeah. Anyway, given his preferred facial hair style, it's not the most noticeable thing in the world.

His horns are very curled, having grown in limbo or from the revival spell (? or something else....) sharp at the point and clearly uncared for from nearly 2 decades in limbo, though they recover over time, the colour fade from brown to beige is now a grey-ish brown, faded, to white at the point.

(working for Quackity, given he lost the bet, he does have to look at least presentable.)

After Las Nevadas falls, there's not really much of anyone left around other than Q, JS, and Slime. Schlatt sticks around, for lack of anything else to do. Also, inability to leave. (Because. reasons.) Q's not in a good place - I mean, we literally watched him hit rock bottom. When Slime. Pushed him off a cliff.

Which according to cc talk he survived, so. YK.

They're... healthier, than they used to be. That's not saying much. They used to abuse each other; anything would be healthier than that.

A 23 (43) year old ex-dead guy and his ex-husband (that forced him to marry him via beating him up when he changed his mind at the alter (rude but literally nothing is abuse worthy) and stay that way via no divorce clause) are the only two people left alive that don't actively want to kill each other in their lives! whooppee!

It goes okay.

It stops going, because Reset! Whatever progress they made is gone. Like it never happened. But it did, of course. Amnesia. Again.

the Reset is a reset.

Post-Reset Schlatt is a mix of his selves. The colouring of pre-death, with red eyes, darker hair. Clothes and facial hair of post-nukes. He remembers more than he and Dream agreed upon, but that's the price you pay for this kind of wipe, and Dream knew that.

Schlatt is an interdimensional demon of vices, deals, weather, and other things.

He's this way because of Slime, but Charlie doesn't remember that either. The Reset didn't fix him. He was already here and an amnesiac before The Reset. It's been a long time since the days of godhood for him, and longer still since the zombie apocalypse. But he did find Tommy, eventually. Just not the right one. And he wasn't the right Charlie, anymore, either.

It's a moot point, really.

Back to Schlatt.

And to Charlie.

They remember each other, in the way you can imagine two now-mortals would remember a godly feud between sometimes-friends of aeons ago. Schlatt, being tied to a deal with Dream regarding this SMP and the life he was falsely leading beforehand while he waited for things to play out regarding Charlie (he hadn't known Charlie was here, or he wouldn't have joined the new world), is unable to return Charlie's full powerset to him. Might not have been able to, anyway, since it was Charlie who made him the being he is in the first place. Metaphysical realities of gods and reality and life and death and power and mortality are difficult to quantify. Charlie Slimecicle made JSchlatt. JSchlatt made Charlie Slimecicle.

At this point, locked away from most of what went down, the memories inaccessible or to fuzzy to matter, they call a truce.

For some levity. I like to think those animatics to Betray Somebody actually happened. Schlatt just complaining about Q not being his type while there's a giant mural of them on the wall is so so so funny. he's so terriblepathetic.

Also, as another sidenote; probably a plant's pumpkinduo / pumpkinhusbands animatics make me very sad. I hc them as some kind of canonical too, in a roundabout way. I think the song choices really fit them both. also that particular mountain goats song is very 'youre both terrible never bring anyone else into your relationship' and i'm glad its associated with pumpkinhusbands. Absolute fucking disasters*. They're so entertaining.

(*Most act as if q was solely the victim and poor little woobie-fy him but that's.... straight up not the case? He proposed to Schlatt and then beat him up when the guy said no and then snuck a clause into some document or another Schlatf had to sign that legally barred him from seeking a divorce like guy trapped schlatt in that marriage. No wonder he reacted like a cornered animal yk. His drinking problem wasn't really a thing at the start - the experience of being Manburg's president and forcibly married against his will is what caused the downward spiral. He was evil and high on power at first ngl abt that but... mans died from a heart attack at twenty-one. Drank too much and died from fucking broken heart syndrome like. Jeez. What a way to cut a life short. No wonder he uses his last words to insult Q though.

Still.

They deserve each other really because they're both kind of terrible people. Manberg (Manburg?) made a reasonably healthy couple into a living nightmare. But that's what absolute power does, as they say. Corrupt absolutely.)

That got off topic swiftly. Anyway.

Tommy -

literal devil child. Literal. It's so funny

Schlatt's son. Yeah. I dad!schlatt headcanon. Just not in the usual way.

Neither of them know this and it stays that way for the entire series. Post-Reset Schlatt has some inkling, but not a lot. (A mistake while he attended college - the same one as Wil, incidentally, which is how they know each other - but she wasn't blonde, so.)

(Her mother was.)

(So was his.)

This is visible from the very start, btw. Little red horns, devil tail. It's so on the nose and easy to make jokes about, and it is funny, as a literal manifestation of his gremlin child menace to society energy.

(Obviously nobody makes the connection to Schlatt, who is a very jersey devil type demonic incarnation, though more ram than goat, whilst Tommy is what a kid would draw if they were told 'draw a demon'. Red horns, pointy tail, mostly human. Cartoon caricature of a demon.)

Obviously, though, this does get pushback. Society is not likely to treat literal demons all that great, given it's tendency to demonise even 'normal' people. See. Even the word, in a world where demons are people too, and real, specifically, becomes itself a kind of bigotry, doesn't it? Becomes itself a kind of tool of societal control. Demons are inherently evil, being evil is demonic, etc.

Tommy is an orphan, in the sense that he was placed in an orphanage as a child. He grew up in a Europe SMP, ended up moving around various SMP Earths and more focused country/region SMPs. This is how he met Tubbo, Quackity, Schlatt, and Wilbur, in that order.

Tubbo, Q, Schlatt - they all met each other through knowing Tommy. Neat bit of trivia; if Tommy hadn't been invited to the DSMP, they simply wouldn't have met.

Canonically, Q helps Tommy and Tubbo and Wil (? can't quite remember which of those two were involved, if Wil was I mean) run the drug trade van L'Manberg originally was. This means Tommy knows Q can do this, this means Tommy knows Q knows a thing or two about the drug trade, this means Tommy knows a thing or two about the drug trade and has contacts in the drug trade, what the fuck, kids, when did that happen.

Q is 19 when he arrives on the shores of the DSMP. He met Tommy in a Juvie server, when Tommy was 14 and Q was 17. They had entirely the wrong energies to get along with most of the other people, but Tommy and Q were quick friends. Also Q can be a pretty protective guy, really, and what was a 14 year old doing in juvie?

Casual murder, obviously. He had to get that tendency from somewhere, or what on earth was he doing killing George as like his first real action in Dream's little nation?

See; people often fall to expectations. Demons are evil. Tommy's never known any different. It wasn't casual murder, but that's what he was convicted for. Why else would the server have a lifesteal mechanic if not to be used? Plus, respawn exists, so it's no more a crime than punching them in the face; leaves as much of a lasting impact.

(Tommy doesn't really know how respawn works, at 14. Mostly because its different for everyone, and whilst a lot of people have it work the say way as each other, that's not exactly saying much. 20 people could have the same respawn system, as could 20 million, but the multiverse is infinite and ever expanding. Respawn works differently for everyone across every World is the easiest thing to say, and the most accurate.)

Honestly, Q pretty much agreed with him.

Anyway. That's that for now. Stay tuned for more. Maybe. At some point. Hey, you've seen what they look like on another post. Maybe i'll add to that too idk. Those sims are still a wip.

#mcyt #clrmc #<- my personal interpretation of the minecraft multiverse. for my own tagging system and filtering. (you'll also see my ocs in here if i #ever bother to post abt all oh 80 of them. And their fully developed storylines. I wish i had mc playing friends who could help me actually #put them to screen. alas.)#dsmp

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secretbangtnn · 3 years

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Best Of Me| Two

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

previous | next

notes ~ I did it!!! Omg im so happy I finished it, hopefully the next one are going to come sooner. The first chapters are going to be with a baby oc - im sorry if its boring, but after it we can start with the real plot, the things are gonna get dark. Hope that you will like it, and remeber to give me some feedback - im whore for a comments and ask and beside they motivate me very much

taglist :

@missseoulite @gukkculture @silscintilla @the-falling-star @apollonshootafar @mwitsmejk @lovinggalaxies @b-e-t-x-s-o @jisoosbitch @ariverflowsonthemoon @maboiisuga @peachescream1723 @sichajeon

Cries everywhere. Sobbing so loud that all the birds disappeared from their little birdhouse outside the window. And as funny the view was, a big ball of stress and nerves started collecting itself in the rather calm manor. Reason of all this mess was just one, so easy to notice.

“Jungkook!” Just like a ball of nerves now the big ball of dirty blankets and clothes hit the young vampire, making him stumble a little. Obvious disgust on his face with a piece of distaste on his tongue which just a second ago had been caused by the same thing he now fisted in his hands.

“You didn’t have to throw it at me!” Barked Jungkook staring at the broad shoulders of his oldest brother. Child now a little calmer, however still sobbing slightly, keeping the atmosphere at bay.

“You have brung the kid so you will hold the things he made. Be happy that I'm not forcing you to change the diaper instead.”

Disgust on all of their faces is now being something normal, having kids in the same room as them, definitely does not go well with hundred years old vampires. The only one without a gag reflex seems to be Seokjin, acting like a pro mother, just after her 3rd pregnancy with the next on the road. However all of them agreed with the statement that it was all but Jungkook's fault, which came with consequences for said boy.

Thus now sitting on the couch, five of the ramaing vampires, looked with a bored expression at the panicked and nearly vomiting jungkook. Youngest of them always had a soft stomach, never being the one to clean after disasters, forcing people to basically clean after him, and maybe that's why all of them felt such a satisfaction upon them while staring at the shitty situation.

Literally shitty.

Stumbling a little from the intense smell, Jungkook started to try getting rid of the used diaper in his hands, holding it with his fingers dingling it as far from his face as he could. Maybe the smelly object was not the only thing that should be named like a feces, knowing that a person who should just throw the diaper away, purposefully walked closer than intended to a couch with older vampires, stumbling not that accidentally and making the thing in his hand fly straight to a lap of a reading Namjoon.

A moment of silence, only lasting for a short second. Namjoon was never the one to shout or get mad, rather prefering to act calm and well put together, believing in a peace making and solutions not requiring usage of violence but when the heavy baggage on his lap suddenly started to warm his lap, he completely crushed his persona as well as book in his hands.

“Ups...hehe.” Jungkook laughed awkwardly, knowing well his fate. Doe eyes looked at the tall man, standing a little farther than him, just behind the couch. Jaw tightened so were the hands, keeping the last strings of calmness that were floating on very dangerous water.

“Listen, before you actually do something think of the time when you destroyed my ps4 and

I did not even complain.” Hands just before him similar to the way you would to with a wild animal, and in Jungkook's opinion, it was not that far from the truth, observing how Namjoons jaws nearly crushed from the tension.

“Okay okay, we all need to calm down, It was just an accident.” Cut in red head, standing in the middle of the war zone. It was stupid idea, definetly not the brightes of the sunny vampire, even if it came from the good intentions. Hoseok, just like an innocent child that got stuck in a big people argument, was the one that got hurt in the end.

And everybody knew that when Hoseok gets mad it's the extremity that anyone in this room is scared to experience once again. There is silent agreement between the rest of the brothers that was made after one of Hoseok's outburst, promising that no matter what the devil can’t come out.

The apple of discord laying now upon redhead’s feet, innocent like a little kitten that just waits to be petted, but in this case it wasn neither a fluffy ball of fur and definitely not something that should be touched.

Silence so loud, banging in their ears with an uneven breath. Second after second, rest that were not included in the middle, counted sitting on their heels with nerve wracking feelings.They stared as Hoseok’s shoulders rose and went down with each puff of air from his flared nostrils, neither of them dared to move, preferring to stay in a safe zone.

Just as red headed one wanted to take his first kill, a loud laugh echoed in a room, coming from a little child in Seokjin's arms, that probably just came back from being cleaned up. A fresh smile on its face, eyes sparkly looking straight at the scene.

“What are you doing, idiots?” Asked Seokjin, a visible vein on his forehead, sticking out under his free hand that now pinched a bridge of his nose. His eyes catching a glimpse of the used diaper, right on his favorite carpet. “You had one thing to do, one thing Jungkook.”

“It was an accident I swear on my ps4!” He tried explaining, shaking his arms. Seokjin saw to much lived too long to believe it, everybody knew it but even than they acted like bunch of idiots when something like this happen.

“Namjoon destroyed it, you said it yourself.” Spoke Jimin, sitting on a couch with a happy smile, pleased with himself. Younger's head immediately halted in his way, a look of betrayal on his face.

“You midge…”

“I don’t care, just clean it up, in the meantime me with the little snack are going to cook something, right my little cutie?” Cuted the older while caressing the child in his arms, turning his voice in a baby one. And just like this the scene came to the same point, the only difference was that neither Namjoon or Hoseok were in the room, probably running away as fast as Sekojins came.

Jungkook sighed, squatting down to take care of the said thing. Again the disgust and a feeling of nausea hitted him with a side giggles of his blonde haired brother.

Going into the kitchen he spotted the child that looked at him as soon as he appeared. Little smile and sweet laugh, making him soft and mushy for a while.

“I hope you know that you gave us a big problem with bringing a human child there.” Seokjin spoke, not looking from a cutting board, himself to immersed in said action

Jungkook knew, earlier thinking of it like a mere action, something that they can get rid of as fast as a lollipop wrapper. But it was not, and now looking at the kid, he realized how his careless behaviour could weigh down not only on his family but the whole society of vampires.

“I’m-”

“Don’t just apologize, we need to take care of it as fast as we can, in the meantime doing everything to not harm it. If someone finds out it’s going to be a bigger problem, probably even straining the relationship with human - and that’s something we do not want.” Cuted older, in the end turning around pointing the sharp knife on Jungkook.

It was true, the delicate stattlement between those two societies is still new, fresh and hot, ready to burn anyone's fingers, anyones who is to carless. The today is a better world, something that all of the brothers know, remembering dark times - some of them being not older than mere hatchling then. World was a dangerous place to live in, vampires hunting humans, humans hunting vampires, a competition that never got settled, and they hope it never will.

“Try feeding it and come to the living room after you are done. We will discuss the next actions - good luck.” A little wink at the end, Seokjin wiped his hands off on the way patting the younger's back, harder than normally.

“Wait what?! You are not being serious right now, right?” Asked confused Jungkook, fastly turning around to an already disappearing figure. Cold sweat on his body as he looked at the smooth face of the older, that defended a flying kiss to his shocked self. “Why can’t you do it?”

“I can. But the human seems to take a liking to you.” And how absurd it sounded, the baby really looked at Jungkook like some god, sparkly eyes always following his bigger figure.

“Seokjin! Don’t leave me please, I can’t do it.”He whined, looking for the said man, to his luck he was nowhere to be found. It was going to be alright - he tried to believe in those words now clutching baby spoon, that he was sure they did not have, and a mashed food, looking more like dog food than actual meal.

His Eyes staring right into the sparkly and to obnoxious happy, making him even more irritated. In the end, Jungkook hated little children, being and acting like one himself

Little hands stretching towards him with a toothless smile on the side, getting bigger as Jungkook came closer. That was it, taking a big breath he come to the other side of the table - almost touching the stool where the human sat. Ready and determined to get the task done, treating it similar to a quest in the game, he took the little spoon with some of the smashed food, and started to get closer to the child's mouth.

And as the brothers again started to live their normal life, thinking that at least for now, everything is settled, a very obvious squeal shook the while house.

“HYUNG!...IT WANTS TO TOUCH ME! GET IT AWAY, GET IT AWAY!”

___

All of them now sitting on the couches and armchairs, taking nearly all of the space. Some of the observing the crawling baby with prominent couriousty some of them with disgust even fear, not knowing what future the baby will bring.

Namjoon although feeling the little distaste, knew or better had a plan with what to do.

Smile on his lips not reaching his eyes, however stumbling on the way of eye contact with some of his brothers.

“Okay so, definitely we need to do something with...this.” Said Jimin, look on his face full of distress and disgust resting on the child, that as if it knew of Jimin’s attention looked back full of giggles and reaching hands.

“That is obvious, we can’t keep human child.” Barked Yoongi, the one which rather prefered to stay quiet in those metters.

“Jungkook should take care of it, It’s not my fault he is to stupid to not question a left human on a doorstep.” Smug smile now on Jimin's face, as he gave the side glance to the said male, happy with triggering the younger temper.

“As If you woul…”

“Okay we get it Jimin, it was Jungkook's fault, but still it can affect us all, so try to be at least a little bit helpful or shut up” Interrupted Seokjin staring at both of them in turn. The oldest obviously tired of all of the drama, massaging his scalp, to relieve the tension a little. “Let's start one by one, any ideas?”

Silence, a loud silence throwing the tension to the already burning fire. Seokjin's vein once again appeared on his forehead, making Jungkook nearly knock from a terrifying sight of it. It was pulsating, green and bumpy.

“Maybe let’s put it back?” Asked the quiet voice, Sekojin ready to snap at the stupid idea thinking that some of the youngers don’t know limit of the unfunny jokes, only to find innocent eyes of Hoseok.

“That’s … well that is AN option, thank you Hoseok - keep it up. Any other ideas?” Seokjin’s hands molded into a thump, giving the tired smile to Hoseok, knowing of his still busing nerves.

“Why are we even trying so hard, throw it away i say.” Jimin mumbled while staring at the little child going his way, quickly putting his feet on the couch, scared of a chance of being touched by the human.

Tired sight left mouth of the olders, his vein fading a little - to Jungkook luck, and his hands now clenching his blonde lock. He was helpless, disappointed in his brother's ideas and intelligence. He was sure that, that was indeed an end, his family will be arrested for keeping human, and vampires are going to lose a peace they fighted for.

Everything because Jungkook wanted to take unfamiliar child to their house.

“What about the orphanage that opened like one month ago, can’t we just leave it there?” Cuted Namjoon, making everyone snap their head. Seokjin nearly crying, wanting to kiss his brother as much as choke him for his slow process of thinking.

“Couldn’t you say earlier?!

592 notes · View notes

mrs-march-ahs · 4 years

Note

what do u think would be the most risqué/dirty thing the evans would do/enjoy?

The Dirtiest Thing That The Evans Are Into

FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU FOR 150 FOLLOWERS🥳😭 I’ve only been writing a month, I don’t deserve y’all🥰😌 I get so many amazing requests, I’m truely sorry that it takes me so so long to do them, I want to do all of your ideas justice! I promise I will do them all just please be patient with me🥺

I hope you enjoy this, I got definitely carried away lol

Tate

-Definitely be up for butt stuff

-You or him

-I think it would start as a finger up his booty while you suck his dick but I think eventually he would totally be up for you to put your little vibrator up him, or put a butt plug in his ass while he fucks you

-He would also be super up for mild exhibitionism

-Drive to the beach and have sex in the car

-He’d love 69

-He’d recommend porn to you

-The biggest punishment for him would be you sat, watching porn and masturbating, and him having to watch

-He’d be aching to touch you

Kit

Kyle

-I’ve had this idea in my head for a while, where Kit ties you up and plays with your boobs

-I’m not sure whether this would be your punishment or a treat for him but either works

-He tie you up and blindfold you and then kiss your boobs everywhere

-Leave loads of hickeys

-Suck your nipples until you can barely feel them, going back and forth

-Hand on one boob, mouth on the other, then swap, then swap again

-He’d get some ice cubes in his mouth and swirl them around so his tongue and lips are cold

-Then he’d put some nipple clamps on you (but only if you insisted that it’s okay, because he’s not particularly into harder stuff like this)

-He’d tug on it a little, and then pull it off, not realizing how intense this feels

-He’d feel bad and immediately put his ice cold mouth on them to soothe them

-Then he’d oil you up completely, head to toe

-Especially your boobs

-He’d fuck them, not quite sure how to do it, but he’d figure it out

-You’d willingly open your mouth to swallow but he’d prefer to cum on your boobs

-Then you’d go for a shower together

-Since you’re nice and clean, he’d suggest oiling you up again

-The cycle would anew

Franken Kyle

-Kyle would be most willing to mess around with the positions

-I think he’d be up for a blowie in the shower, but not much more adventurous places than that

-But that doesn’t in any way mean he’s boring

-You’d try a couple different positions in one session

-Maybe 69, whoever cums first loses

-Winner gets to go on top

-Loser has to wait until the winner cums

-Winner has to give the loser permission to cum before they do

-You’d watch porn together and masturbate together

-Maybe try to do whatever the couple in the video is doing, switching positions when they switch positions

-Into edging, he’d want you to slowly and sensually suck him off and keep stopping when he’s close, so that the session can last a long time

-He’d also want to eat your pussy while you do something else, like watch Netflix or sit on your phone

-Just so he can spend ages between your legs

-In return you’d sit and suck him off for an hour while he plays Fifa

Jimmy

-Sex with him would be weird and intense, because he wouldn’t know what ‘normal’ sex is meant to look like

-He’d go super rough and even after he cums, he’d keep going

-He’d grunt really loud and wouldn’t moan or swear, because he didn’t know that’s what you’re ‘meant’ to do

-He’d just completely relax and let any noises come out

-At the beginning of his recovery, when he got horny and didn’t fully understand what was happening, he’d just hump things

-If you cuddled and he got a boner he would grind against your ass until he came his pants

-You’d help him and straddle him occasionally and grind on him

-Then one day you show him how to jack off

-Bad mistake

-Suddenly he wants to do it anywhere

-In the middle of a restaurant he starts palming himself through his underwear and will not stop no matter how much you tell him it’s inappropriate

-So the next best thing you can do is take him to the bathroom and get on your knees for him

-The only problem being, as I mentioned before, he doesn’t realize how loud he is

-But because he’s like a puppy in his Franken state, he only understands behavior

-All he understands is that if he palms himself through his underwear in public: he gets a sucky

-So he does it all the time

-But you don’t complain

James

-I think one of his biggest fantasies would be anal

-I think he’d love how it felt

-He’d love it when you wear buttplugs, but he would never want to have anything up his own ass

-He also would love to tease you all day in public, and then get home and fuck you all night

-Even though he would pretend he doesn’t like it, he’d adore if you teased him all day

-Whisper dirty things in his ear, shake your ass for him, and then go to your caravan and act like you never did anything

-I think he’d want to fuck you outside in the field at night

-So it’s totally in public, but everybody is asleep in their tents so nobody notices

-He’d love to get drunk and have messy sex

-I think he’d love to spank you at least once

-If you were super into it, it would become a thing

-If you were naughty, he would spank you

-We also know he’s into food

-I think he’d like to lick chocolate or whipped cream off you

-You’d drizzle chocolate on his cock and then suck it all off

Kai

-What wouldn’t he be into?

-Exhibitionism definitely

- “Darling, one more dirty comment like that in my ear, and Daddy just might have to bend you over this table and punish you in front of everybody, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

- “Who said I don’t want that?”

-The only thing he wouldn’t be up for at all is a threesome

-He’d love it if you put a plug in or a remote control vibrator and went out to a fancy dinner with him

-For the duration of an hour, he’d be slowly turning the vibrator higher and higher, and then if you got too close or a little too loud, he’d turn it off completely

-Then after a few minutes for the high to settle down, he’d turn it on low again

-It’s also well established that he has a corruption kink

-So he’d love to tie you up and fuck you over and over again until you’re a complete dirty mess

-I want to say he’d put a vibrator in you and leave you there, but I don’t think he would want you to be overstimulated with a toy

-Only he can give you orgasms

-He’d only use a vibrator if he can stop it last minute and make you actually cum himself

-If he found out you masturbated without him, he’d be furious

-He’d throw you dildo/ vibrator away and punish you with chastity

-But after like three days, he’d get sick of it and he’d get you to suck his dick all the time

-You’d happily do it, but you’d get way too turned on from it, so you’d beg him to do something to you, so he would spank you or belt you

-He’s literally into anything

-As long as you remain sweet

-Super into rope and bondage

-I think the most intense thing he’d do, is share you

-He’d tie you up like a rope bunny and put a gag in your mouth, then leave you in the basement for a bit for you to just sit and wonder what’s going to happen to you

-He’d come downstairs with Samuels and Harrison

- “I want to teach the boys how to please a woman, I’m going to use you as my training dummy, I know you won’t mind”

-You’d be shocked and wriggle around but everything you did, even if it was bad, Kai would make it sound like it’s good

- “She’s shaking in anticipation”

-Samuels would fuck you and Kai would sit and watch closely, not caring about him, only caring about you

-He’d occasionally turn your head to look at Samuels not him

- “Kai is it okay if I cum in her?”

- “You want Samuels to fill your dirty pussy with his cum?”

- You’d try to scream but the gag would stop you, so you’d be left making loud intelligible noises and shake your head

-But Kai would twist it

- “She’s moaning, she’s practically begging you to fill her up”

-He might even encourage Harrison and Samuels to try double penetration on you

-You’d be hesitant but they’d do it and you’d be super into it, making Kai mad

-When they leave, he’d fuck you all night long, making sure you’re enjoying sex with him more than you did with them

- “Who can fuck this pussy better? Those clowns, or your Divine Ruler?”

-Again, it didn’t matter what you said with the gag in your mouth stopping you, so he’d hear what he wants to hear

- “That’s what I thought, slut”

-He’d belt or whip you afterwards and make you say thank you after every one

- “Thank you for using me, Divine Ruler”

- “I’m grateful to be your cum whore”

- “It’s an honor to be used by you”

-He’d make sure the next cult meeting you’re wearing something revealing, so that everybody knows he whipped you good

-Marking his territory

-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

-also Kai likes piss

887 notes · View notes

malfoysstilinski · 4 years

Text

girl in the mirror | DRACO MALFOY

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: in which draco and y/n are soulmates and can hear each others’ music, and you’ve been blasting sad songs all week, worrying draco.

WARNINGS: one mean joke about americans sozzles

A/N: based on the tiktoks where soulmates can hear each others’ music. i dont think ive seen an imagine like that on here so i thought i’d write one :)) also set in 2010s

In the Wizarding world, on your thirteenth birthday, you are officially bound to your soulmate. This means different things for different wizards and witches, depending on what they valued. For example, when Blaise Zabini turned thirteen, he was able to see his soulmate in mirrors-- fitting considering how self-obsessed he was.

Draco, however, heard music. You must be obsessed with it, he realised. He found out he was right pretty quickly, waking up to the sound of your playlists muffled in his ears and falling asleep to them too.

It was always Muggle music too. You must be a half-blood, or even… Merlin forbid, a Muggle-born. Realising that his soulmate wasn’t going to be a pure-blood like his parents had planned, Draco kept the news to himself and worked on his vocabulary. He tried his best to bite his tongue around Granger, ignoring his friends when they made fun of their ‘dirty’ blood.

He didn’t want to hurt you when he got to meet you.

It took Draco longer than it should have to realise you definitely didn’t go to Hogwarts. How could you when he’d be sat in assemblies, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop, and all he’d hear is the thumping of your music in his ears as if he was underwater?

“She’s probably an American,” Pansy pretends to gag, the others laughing with her.

“Could be a Beauxbaton,” Blaise suggests.

Draco doesn’t like to make assumptions, but he thinks you are definitely a Muggle. It’s rare, but not unheard of in the Wizarding world, especially nowadays. For the Malfoys, though, it would be an outrage.

You play your music the most when he’s eating dinner in the Great Hall or when he’s getting ready for bed.

At first, he hated it. He hated your music, he hated how his head was rarely ever quiet, and he hated that he didn’t know who you were in order to beg you to take your headphones out for once.

However, Draco learnt to love your music. Songs and bands he’d never heard of before quickly became his favourites and eventually, he found himself humming your Muggle tunes in the common room or quietly singing along in his dorm when the other boys were out doing whatever.

He learned to love having your music in his head, especially as the years rolled on and his life became harder and harder. It made him feel like he was never alone, your muffled melodies making a home in his head and pushing out all of his anxiety and depression.

Draco wanted to dance with you to them. He liked to lay in bed at night and listen to your songs and imagine that you’re lying next to him. He bets you have a nice singing voice. Maybe you can even play an instrument or two. Maybe you could teach him how to play the guitar, and maybe he could show you how to play his favourite pieces on the piano.

Your music is never too upbeat, but today Draco feels like he hasn’t heard a single song that wasn’t about being sad. As he trudged from class to class, Draco couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with you. It had been going on for the past few days, and the music stopped altogether on one of the days.

He went to bed with an empty head for the first time in a few years, staring at his ceiling. He plugged his iPod in and went to the Muggle section, playing a few of your favourite songs. It wasn’t the same.

“What’s up with you?” Blaise demands as Draco doesn’t touch his meal for the second time that day.

Draco glances to his friend and looks away, shaking his head. “Mind your own business, Zabini,” he mutters weakly.

Blaise’s soulmate, a Slytherin in the year below, joins them at sitting on the table and Blaise immediately forgets all about Draco, the two of them giggling as they hug each other. Draco thought he could throw up right there and then, shaking his head in disgust.

Green was Draco’s colour and Merlin was he jealous.

Why did you have to be a stupid Muggle?

Draco immediately feels bad for even thinking it. He wants to hug you and kiss the top of your head and mutter apology after apology. The soft feeling makes him feel weak. You did things to him that nobody else did, and he doesn’t even know who you were. The fact that you were most likely going through a rough time right now made it ten times worse.

“What’s wrong with Draco?” He hears Zabini’s girl whisper.

“Why don’t you ask me yourself?” Draco snaps, lip curling in disgust. “Instead of talking behind my back like a coward!”

“Draco,” Blaise growls. “I don’t know what’s up with you, mate, but you need to calm down.”

“It’s your soulmate, isn’t it?” Pansy quirks an eyebrow from opposite them. “Are they playing that rubbish song you hate on repeat again?”

“No,” Draco hisses in defence of you. “I like that song, thank you.”

Pansy holds her hands up. “Okay, whatever. Sorry, Malfoy. What has got your knickers in a twist, then?”

He hesitates. He doesn’t like talking about you to anybody else but he’s really worried and he thinks maybe one of them might be able to help.

“She’s…” Draco’s eyes drift to burn holes in the table in front of him. “She’s been listening to sad songs.”

Goyle snorts, making Draco’s head snap to him in fury.

“Sorry, Malfoy, sorry… But that does sound ridiculous, mate,” Goyle admits. “She’s probably just into that… genre?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Draco huffs and shakes his head. “You don’t know her like I do. Something’s wrong with her, I can tell.”

“Well, why don’t you visit her?” Blaise asks, grabbing a grape and popping into his mouth.

“What?” Draco spits. “Is that a joke, Zabini? I don’t find it funny--”

“I’m not joking,” Blaise frowns. “Merlin’s sake, Malfoy. Do you not pay attention in Charms?”

“Of course I do,” Draco hesitates, lying. “But what are you talking about, anyway?”

…

Draco feels ridiculous as he stands in front of the mirror in the bathrooms later that night. It’s silent since it’s the middle of the night, but Draco knows you’re awake because of the glum music playing faintly in his ears.

He wants to visit you like Blaise told him to do, and as he stands in front of the mirror and casts his incantations, he can’t help but wonder if this is a setup. He doesn’t give his hopes up, doesn’t hold his breath that when he opens his eyes you’ll be on the other side of the mirror.

But he wants you to be. He wants you to be there so badly.

Draco does sort of believe it so he put on his black turtleneck and black suit and combed his hair like usual, replacing the uniform and robes he’d been wearing all day. He doesn’t want you to see him and be disappointed.

He knows he won’t be disappointed no matter what you look like or what you are.

Draco takes a deep breath as he lowers his wand and closes his eyes. When he counts down and opens his eyes, he’s stunned into silence by the sight in front of him. His heart skips a beat and he nearly chokes on his own spit.

Staring back at him in the mirror is not his own pale reflection but what looks like a bedroom. The mirror glows orange from the lighting and he can see that it’s decorated with posters and records and other Muggle things. Draco doesn’t even process that you’re a confirmed Muggle at this point, he doesn’t care enough about that.

On a single bed in the middle of the room, sat up in the very centre with headphones in and a laptop in front of her, is a girl his age. She’s got beautiful y/s/c skin and y/c/h locks that have been thrown up into a messy bun, her y/c/e trained on the screen in front of her as she watches what he assumes is a film or a tv show.

She’s wearing a school uniform, not quite as posh as Hogwarts’, and it’s slightly crumpled from sitting in her bed with it on. Her polished black shoes are nowhere to be seen, rips in the bottom of her tights no doubt from wearing them thin five days a week.

Draco can’t believe he’s looking at you right now. He reaches his hand out, eyes widening when his fingers seem to slip past the glass and he’s sucked into another world-- your world. He wasn’t expecting it to happen, a small yelp leaving his lips as he tumbles straight out of the mirror hanging on your wall and onto your carpet.

You both scream as you make eye contact and you’ve thrown your laptop about in a panic. There’s no music in his ears now that he stands in front of you. Draco breathes heavily, unsure what to say.

“Um, hello?” He offers.

“What the hell?” You yell. “What are you doing in my bedroom? Who are you? My laptop!”

You ignore him as you dive off of the bed and pick it up. The screen is smashed making you glare at him harder.

“I’m sorry!” Draco practically squeaks. “I- I have Galleons--”

“Who are you?” You cut him off roughly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Draco keeps repeating, hoping you will calm down. “I-I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“Draco Malfoy?” You repeat with a mocking laugh. “Is that a joke?”

“No,” he replies, voice pitched higher than usual with offence. “What’s your name?”

Normally you wouldn’t tell a stranger your name, but this situation is anything but normal. You stare at the boy for a few seconds, wondering why he feels familiar. There’s something about him that has you relaxing under his gaze, which is weird because he literally just appeared out of nowhere.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you reply sceptically.

Draco smiles, “beautiful name.”

“Are you like a nonce or something?”

“Nonce?” Draco crinkles his nose in confusion.

You narrow your brows at him. “You’re literally British-- how do you not know what that means?”

“I’m not… I don’t really come from your kind of England,” Draco doesn’t know how to explain there is an entire world she’s been hidden from-- this is the first Muggle he’s ever had a conversation with.

“Are you Welsh?”

“Do I sound Welsh to you?” Draco cocks his head to the side, already amused.

“Sometimes I can’t tell the difference, not gonna lie,” you reply. “But no. I’m sure you’re English. You sound like you’re a private school kid or something.”

“I guess I am,” Draco replies quietly, looking around your bedroom and taking in all of the colours that it has.

You seem to snap out of whatever daze you were in. “Hey! You distracted me. Now tell me what the hell you’re doing in my bedroom before I call the police.”

Draco’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he contemplates his next words. He hesitates and sits down on your bed next to you. You can smell his cologne-- it smells much more expensive than the Lynx sprays the boys at college seem to be obsessed with.

“Do you ever hear music in your ears?” He asks, watching your eyes widen in conformation. “You do. That’s… that’s me. My music. I hear your music too. You listen to it all the time. Um… normally a lot of bands and stuff.”

There’s a long silence. “Do you have me on Spotify?”

“What’s Spotify?” Draco’s nose crinkles.

“You probably just see what I listen to on Spotify!” You claim, standing up as you become weary of the boy on your bed.

Draco still doesn’t quite understand your Muggle terminology, but he gets the gist of what you’re trying to imply.

“That doesn’t explain the music you hear in your head from me,” Draco tries. “Or how I just came out of your mirror.”

You look overwhelmed. “What are you?” You whisper.

“We, Y/N, are soulmates.”

...

yuh

PART TWO HERE

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco #malfoy #harrypotter #harry potter #dracotok #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #gregory goyle #soulmates au #soulmate au #harry potter imagine #harry potter au #draco malfoy au

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

first meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, fluff

word count: 1.4k

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

“Chris! Come on, we’re already late!”

“Yeah, gimme a sec!”

“You said that 30 minutes ago, what are you even doing up there?”

You take off your heels and coat and climb up the stairs. As you’re approaching your shared bedroom with Chris, you can hear him groan loudly and sigh. When you open the door, you see that Chris’ entire wardrobe is spread out over the bed, dresser and floor.

“Jesus Christ, Chris, what the hell is going on in here?”

“All of my clothes are either old, dirty or ugly. I literally have nothing to wear. I can’t go meet your parents looking like a fucking dumbass!”

You snort lightly and start laughing but quickly stop when you see his face.

“This isn’t funny”, he says while narrowing his eyes.

You smile and laugh slightly and say, “I’m sorry, it just kinda is… The first thing you wore was literally fine, Chris. Just put it back on so we can leave.”

“No…”, he whines. “My shirt was a weird color, your parents are gonna think I don’t know how to dress myself.”

“Chris, it’s fine, I promise. We’re just going to dinner and my parents are going to love you. They literally couldn’t care less what you show up in.”

Chris looks at you with a desperate expression for a couple of seconds before sighing loudly.

“Fine, I’ll be down in 5 minutes.”

“Finally! I’m gonna wait for you in the car.”

You go back downstairs and go to your car when you hear a new text message coming in.

dad, 5:50pm:

Hi honey, is everything okay? Are you guys getting here soon?

You softly smile at your dad’s worry.

you, 5:51pm:

hey dad everything’s fine

i couldn’t find my wallet but we’re on our way over now

see you in 20

You’re turning your music on when you see Chris closing and locking the front door. As soon as he gets in the car, his leg starts shaking up and down.

“Chris, it’ll be fine, I promise”, you say softly, while smiling over at him.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile and nods his head slightly.

As you’re locking the car and walking over to the restaurant’s door, you take Chris’ hand in your own and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. You look over at him and ask,

“You ready?”

“Not really, but it’s now or never, right?”

As soon as you approach the restaurant, the hostess opens and holds the door for you. You slide into the restaurant while thanking her and immediately take Chris’ hand again, knowing that it calms him down.

The hostess smiles warmly at you and asks,

“Hi! Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes! Y/L/N for 4, there should already be two people here.”

“Yes, absolutely, let me show you to your table.”

You follow the hostess to the back of the restaurant.

When you had started dating Chris a year before, you were confused as to why he never seemed to want to go to the restaurant with you. After a particularly animated conversation, he had admitted that he didn’t want people to see you together at the restaurant because they would automatically start talking about you and he didn’t want your relationship to be as public as his previous ones had been. Since that day, you had picked up the habit of always asking for a table in the back of the restaurant whenever you went out together.

As soon as you see your parents, you feel your smile growing as well as Chris’ hand getting even clammier. You look up at him and smile warmly, trying to give him a final boost of calmness before meeting your parents.

Your dad is the first one to see you and as soon as he does, he gets up from the table and meets Chris and you in front of the table. You let go of Chris’ hand and engulf your dad in a bear hug. 25 years old or not, you were still a daddy’s girl, just like when you were a kid.

You normally saw your parents every month or so, but you had been so busy running around for work lately that you hadn’t seen them in over 3 months.

“Dad! I missed you guys so much, oh my god!”

“Hi, honey. We missed you too”, your dad answers while chuckling lightly.

You let go of your dad and reach over to hug your mom as you see that your dad is looking Chris up and down while Chris is just standing to the side.

“Mom!”

“Hi, baby. How are you?”, your mom asks as you’re letting go of her.

You smile warmly and put your hand on Chris’ arm.

“I’m doing great! Mom, Dad, this is Chris, my boyfriend. Chris, these are my parents.”

Chris smiles tightly and says, “Hi Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N). It’s really nice to meet you both”, Chris says while shaking the hand that your dad is holding out to him. He holds his hand out to your mom, but she smiles warmly at him.

“Nonsense. Come give me a hug!” Chris then awkwardly shuffles over to your mom and hugs her. You snort lightly at his clear but unnecessary discomfort.

After letting go of Chris, your mom walks back to her chair, followed by your dad. Chris takes your coat and then pulls your chair back for you to sit. You smile at him and softly thank him.

As Chris sits down, he immediately reaches for your hand under the table and starts to play with your fingers, as he often does when trying to control his anxiety.

Your dad clears his throat and asks, “So, how did you two meet?”

As time passes and drinks go by, Chris gets visibly more comfortable and even starts to crack some jokes. Despite your dad’s obvious overprotectiveness at first, even he had started to loosen up and laugh at Chris’ jokes.

As the waiter drops the check at the middle of the table, Chris and your dad both reach for it. Chris immediately smiles at your dad, “I’m the one who invited all of you to dinner. The least I can do is take care of the check.”

You see your dad hesitate before he gives his approval nod and removes his hand.

As Chris is paying, your parents start to get up and prepare to leave. You also get up and put your coat back on as Chris finishes paying.

Your dad smiles at Chris and shakes his hand, both clearly more relaxed than at the beginning of the dinner, while you hug your mom.

“It was really nice to meet you, Chris. Hopefully, we will see each other again soon, right (Y/N)?”

You playfully roll your eyes at your dad’s comment. “Yes, Dad, I know.”

You tightly hug your dad while your mom gives a warm hug to Chris.

“I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

Both your parents smile back at you and tell you to get home safe.

Chris picks his coat up from the back of his chair and stretches before putting his arm around your shoulders as you take his hand in yours.

“You see? It wasn’t that bad. My parents literally loved you!” Chris scoffs lightly.

“Yeah, after your dad spent like 10 minutes giving me a death glare. I almost peed my fucking pants!”

You laugh heartedly at Chris’ comment before answering, “Come on, he’s just being protective of his little girl.”

“True. Can’t blame him for not wanting my beautiful girlfriend to be with just anyone.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Yeah, wait until we have a baby girl. See if you won’t beat up any guy that looks her way.”

Your breath hitches slightly as you realize you just implied that you wanted to have a family with Chris.

He stops walking as you reach your car and lifts up your chin.

“Hmm… Is that so? A mini (Y/N) Evans. I think I can see that happening, yeah?”

A smile draws itself on your face as Chris’ words register in your mind.

“Yeah”, you chuckle as Chris bends down to kiss you.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfics

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abundanceofnots · 3 years

Text

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

#toe fic 🍅#my fics #gallavich fic #shameless fanfiction

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keerishima · 3 years

Note

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that?

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?!

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

212 notes · View notes

cornacopicimagines · 5 years

Text

after hours│t.h

pairing: professor!tom holland x reader

words: 6.9k (hehe nice)

warnings: swearing, PURE FILTH, sir kink, rough sex, masturbation (male & female), exhibition kink if you squint, spanking & sort of public sex.

summary: It's wrong, y/n tells herself. She can't help it though. She can't help fantasising about him. At the other end of the class, Tom tells himself to stop staring at her. It's creepy, he thinks. Neither one knows of the mutual pining that is until tension bubbles over.

a/n: I’m back bitches! I'm still a fucking sinner and this is such a cliche, I'm so so sorry

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n sat at the desk. Her eyes never left Mr. Holland. Her attention never left the way the veins in his arms bulged when he picked up the massive textbook, never left his perfectly gelled hair and how it sat atop his head like it was crafted to from the day he was born. Perhaps I should start typing the notes that were on the board, she scowled to herself.

She feels dirty, almost ashamed of her crush on him. She hates herself for falling into a stupid cliché that had been so easy to avoid all these tireless years. y/n doesn't know why she has gone back to a love-sick teenage girl fantasising about a boy who she'll never even get to touch. A boy that so out of her league, he wouldn't even had the faintest idea that she exists. That doesn't stop them though. y/n still finger fucks herself to an orgasm that no boy has been able to give her in her 24 years of life, all the while wishing it was his cock instead of her fingers. If Mr. Holland knew what she did to herself under the influence of him and his stupidly handsome face, he would be disgusted. This she knows for a fact.

This isn't what she thought she would be doing, in all honesty. She is a semester away from graduating and she never wanted to be stuck in a perpetual state of wanting someone so unattainable it's not uneasy, it's borderline unethical. She truly believed she would have ancient married professor that sound like their legs deep in their coffin. Instead she got a literal Greek God as her Psych professor.

She knows that she's not the only one of course. y/n has met 10 other girls in her class that probably write god awful poetry about Mr. Holland's liquid bronze eyes. She can't blame them, if she could write shitty poetry about him, she 100% would. y/n not angry either, she knows out of the 120 students (110 of whom are girls), are probably all in the same predicament. She sometimes gets dirty looks from them when Mr. Holland address her by her first name.

Perhaps that's something she should consider; he calls her y/n not Miss y/l/n or just simply Miss. It's different, it's endearing and when he has a raspy voice, it's so fucking hot.

"y/n," a voice called out, she shook herself out of her haze, "are you still with us?" Mr. Holland was no standing over her. His cologne surrounding her, intoxicating her. y/n gulped softly before turning her eyes to his.

"Yes, sorry sir," y/n replied quickly, trying her hardest not to stumble over her own words or even let the blush run to her cheeks.

Mr. Holland smiled warmly, "that's good, I need at least one of you listening," the class erupting in laughter, "I would prefer it to be one of the brightest." That though got them quiet. y/n sunk into her chair in embarrassment. The blush she had been fighting rose to the surface, making her even more adamant not to look up at him but alas she couldn't.

In that small fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes. She couldn't define exactly what it was. Whatever it truly was, y/n knew teachers should not be looking at their students in such a way. It made her even more lightheaded with admiration.

The lesson continued on as normal for another hour. Mr. Holland described the outline for the next assignment, it seemed short and sweet. Write a 2-thousand-word essay on the effects of unintentional recreational drugs during early childhood. y/n had to laugh at the way Mr. Holland phrased it. It was as if he had never touch pot in his entire life, to be fair, y/n wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't. Most of the girls in his class groaned at the mere mention of actual work and not an hour and a half session of pure toe-curling orgasm material. Now that she thinks about it, that would be a wonderful way to spend her Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.

Of course, y/n was in another word during the last minutes of the lesson. Unable to focus on anything other than the hint of a tattoo peeking through the underlining of his shirt. She was working so hard to distinguish what it was that she had completely missed the end of the lesson and the dozens of people walking out.

"y/n, what exactly are you doing?" Mr. Holland's voice asked above her. y/n almost jumped in her seat, but she stayed completely still. "This is the second time today, should I be worried?"

This though made her jump out of her seat. "No of course not sir!" She defended as she rushed to place her things away. "I was just off in wonderland today."

"Are you sure there is nothing distracting you?" He asked.

Yes.

"No," she replied hurriedly.

"You know you can tell me if something is," he reassured her.

Yes, of course. Let me just tell you about how you are distracting me by always wearing the hottest casual suits every lesson and giving me the wonderful fantasy of tearing it off you.

"I know that, it's just been my busy schedule," y/n lied through her teeth. She's a broke college student with hardly any friends or real other assignments. "I am just working really hard, you know?"

Yeah, working really hard to imagine you pounding me into next week!

With that last thought, y/n knew she needed to leave before she exploded with embarrassment and arousal right there in front of him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you are totally allowed to change the topic of the assignment if you feel like there is something that strikes a chord with you," Mr. Holland smiled brightly.

Fuck! Did he have to look so gorgeous even when he's trying to be dorky and supportive.

Mr. Holland noticed the shocked look upon y/n's face and immediately retracted his statement, "I promise I won't fail you, if that's what your thinking." He explained. "I really enjoy your work, you're a gifted woman with a real talent and I don't want to see it go to waste with my shitty assignment."

y/n turned her attitude around. He was stumbling over his words. It was kind of cute and endearing, like everything he does. She smiled warmly at his compliment.

"Sir," she spoke softly. It came out a lot mouseyer and somehow sexual than she would have liked but she refused to back out of her statement. "I can't wait."

She didn't say another word but simply slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the class. Tom followed her figure in complete and utter shock. He praised whatever god watched over him for the small mercy that was having y/n's back turned to him to witness his immediate blush cover his entire freckled face.

Tom never let his eyes leave her. He just watched her waltz right out of his classroom, he bit his lip at the sight of her perfectly cupped ass in her jeans. Through-out the entire lesson, all he could think about is how her tits would bounce as his dick thrusted up into her little cunt. Just the thought made his cock spring to life.

He stared up at the clock. He had to be in another lecture in 10 minutes, he had to teach another round of student without her pretty face in it in 10 bloody minutes. Sadly, it wasn't enough time to imagine cumming over her said face. He fidgeted until his painful erection was safely hidden.

God, you are such a fucking creep, Holland. He thought to himself.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n really didn't want to be doing this.

She really didn't want to have to walk to the library in a mini skirt she had when she went through her cringy hoe phase and a low-cut tank top she only really wore to bed at 8 at night. Luckily before she left, her roommate gave her a full can of pepper spray and a pocketknife. A handle tool for when you looked like a prostitute.

She had no choice. It was laundry night and she had to get her assignment out of the way, or she would never finish it in time. She wanted to kick herself for letting laundry night fall on the only night the library stayed open until midnight. It was a perk for sure but not when you had nothing to wear but pink neon rags.

y/n pushed open the library door and relieved herself of the anxiety of being abducted by the greeting of Harry. He looked familiar but she couldn't pinpoint where she had seen his face before.

"What cha doing here?" he shouted. Quite contradictory for a librarian. y/n grinned when she saw his dorky face at the counter. That is until he caught wind of her outfit, or lack thereof. "Got a late shift at the strip-club after this?" Her face fell.

"I hate you," she played along, her arms slumping on the cold desk. y/n looked around the library. It was basically empty, with the exception of the middle-aged teacher grading a stack full of papers. Poor bastard, y/n thought. "Got one for me?"

"You're going to get me fired if I do this again," Harry huffed, he banged his head against the keyboard in frustration.

"This is the last time," y/n explained, "I pinkie promise." She lifted her hand over the counter and waved her pinkie finger in Harry's face. He stared up her than move his eyeline to her finger now just touching the tip of his nose. He groaned loudly as he took her finger in his.

"There is a ton of empty booths, choose one and don't make a sound," Harry told her angrily, y/n simply clapped her hands in celebration and skipped off. She chooses the booth in range of Harry, in hopes that maybe he will distracted her and she won't have to do her work because she's too busy goofing off.

y/n dropped her stuff in a huff. Her back slumped into the curve of the chair and the desk covered her body happily. She placed her earphones in and played her favourite study music. She was in absolute heaven.

The assignment was kicking her ass, but she was determined to do it. Mr. Holland seemed genuinely excited for what she would write about if she did decide to change the topic. Now though she's regretting not letting Mr. Holland's hopes down.

She could find hardly anything online and even if she did it was by some random SJW on Tumblr. That's what lead her here tonight. In hopes that maybe some privileged white asshole with a degree would have some sources sighted to help her. Unfortunately, she was having trouble with that too.

It was now 11:30pm. She had been at this god forsaken table for two and a half hours now in an endless pursuit of bullshit. y/n had half a mind to give up and just suck his dick for the grade like other girls would in this situation. y/n had to remind herself though, she is a gifted woman with a real talent that should not be wasted on something shitty to please the masses. Did she just quote Mr. Holland?

She caught eyes with Harry in her block, who had two pencils stuck up his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. It did for the most part. y/n wanted to play along but it had seemed someone else had walked through the door at that very moment and Harry threw the pencils out. Harry's face lit up with red upon the arrival of this mystery person. y/n was interested in who this mystery person was. That is until she saw his face.

Mr. Holland walked up to the library desk in a fit of laughter. His hands smacking the counter and his face contorted in a wide smile. y/n instantly ducked under the table. She could faintly hear their conversation. It just sounded like muffled words until her name popped up.

Jesus Christ. Not now. Not tonight. Why of all night to run into his must it have to be tonight. Maybe I should make a run for it now, bust out of the wind-

"I know you're under there y/n," Mr. Holland's voice sung above her. It was too late now. Any escape plan that her mind frantically tried to rationalise was long gone by this point. Slowly, y/n retreated from her hiding spot to face him. He had his normal outfit of a tight t-shirt paired with a decorative tie and slightly lose pants. This time though he had a long burgundy coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a painting. y/n smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said simply. Regaining her seat from before and fully appearing in front of him. "I had no idea you would be here this late," she tried with conversation.

"Harry's my brother, I have to drive him home before leaving myself and he just wanted to work the late shift tonight," Tom laughed to himself and he turned around and waved at Harry. His brother waved back guiltily. "You know, I could say this same to you," he smirked at her.

"I am working on your assignment, sir," y/n responded quietly. Tom's eyes lit up at that and he rushed to snatch the papers off her desk and into his hands. Much to the disapproval of y/n.

"Oh good, you've decided to change it," Tom sounded almost relieved as if he trusted her judgement more than his own. Worse of it all, he decided to sit down next to her. Even taking off his coat, making his biceps bulge through his shirt. His eyes flicked through what she currently has. His eyebrows raised in shock, "I have to say, I was not expected you to decide to do something about the female orgasm and its effect on the psyche," his voice was an octave deeper than usual. y/n could feel her arousal building.

y/n couldn't decide if he was just being friendly or if he was trying to send a deeper message. Either way, she decided to take action. "Well, with the number of women being unsatisfied I thought it was an appropriate topic," she snatched the papers out of his hands, "but you wouldn't know anything about women being unsatisfied would you sir?"

Tom sat there in astonishment. His cock stiffened against the restraints of his jeans, he has only been in her vicinity for 5 minutes and already she has him hard as a rock. It was times like these that he wished he could just leave all his determination to fuck her over this very desk at the door. Regrettably, he couldn't.

"Well, that just ruins the surprise," y/n sighed delicately. Her fingers flicking through the pages of her useless book. "Either way, the resources are complete shit," this time her sadness was real, and Tom snapped out of his lust-ridden haze.

"Did you really expect a man to know mostly everything of something that is so cardinally female?" Tom smirked as he closed the book on her and pointed to the photo of a wrinkled old man. He was the author of a stupid book and to be fair, he looked like he would write this type of book as well.

"Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong," y/n hissed. She had been spending her entire night trying to piece together information from a man who can only give her half the story.

"The book on the top shelf is one on the chemical effects of orgasming in females by a female," Tom leaned in and whispered in her ear. His hot breath wafted of her skin; it was enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. y/n turned her head to face him, their lips inches away from each other. If they didn't have Harry watching them like a hawk, they probably would be out of breath from lip-locking. Instead, y/n nodded and got up out of her seat, making sure to give him a stunning view of her tits through her tank top. He wanted to audibly gasp but kept in inside. It didn't help with his situation downstairs any more than the last few minutes have.

Slowly, she walked over to the bookcase. Her eyes scanning the endless rows and she made sure Tom had enough time to enjoy the deep red thong underneath her skirt. Finally, her fingers coiled around the book and brought it down to her. Tom couldn't believe his own eyes. He was so under her spell. The way her top hugged her curved and let his eyes completely drink in her breasts. How her skirt was pulled up to her waist, allowing the flushed skin of her ass to be visible to him. He wonders how a woman like her even exists and yet she takes a seat next to him, absolutely unaware of his throbbing manhood. Begging to be touched by her, to be taken by her, by anything to do with her.

"Thank you, sir," she almost purrs to him, Tom's struggling to keep it together. He afraid the next thing to slip out of her flawless mouth, he'll cum straight into his pants when he would rather cum into her.

"Anytime," he responds just a dark before getting up. Hiding his clearly hard cock behind his briefcase. "I'll see you in class?" He already knows the answer, but he just wants the last bit of assurance from her.

"Of course," she smiled warmly. With that Tom basically books it, he's frantically making sure he's well-hidden as he quickly bends over the counter.

"I'll come back to pick you up in 30, I forgot some paper work back in my office," it's so fast, Harry almost doesn't have time to translate it before Tom's out the door and rushing down the hall.

At one point, he basically running to get to his office. Feet tapping against the concrete as he continues to see nothing but flashing images of y/n. It blurs his vision and he's so desperate. He considers using a spare supply closet but know he will only get complete privacy in his own office.

He finally gets there, after what seems like an eternity of running. He checks the hallways before entering. He drops all of his things at the foot of the door. He even has the decency to hang his coat upon the rack. Tom slowly walks over to his chair. It's a rough leather material and usually he would refuse to do what he's about to do in here, it will be stained with the memory but at this point. He got no fucks left to give.

He crashes down. His back hitting the material he hates so much. He doesn't think he's got time, but he still does it slowly. His belt drops next to his and he undoes the zip slowly and the cold air hits his dick. He hisses at the feeling but proceeds anyways. Tom pulls the rest of his jeans and boxers down his legs and kicks them across the room. His hand takes his dick, slowly rubbing the head. Imaging y/n's fingers dancing over it, spreading the precum over. He uses his palm to envision her own stroking up and down in an even motion. He can't help but moan. He can't help but softly call out her name.

He so entranced that he doesn't recognize the following light footsteps approaching. He's so into her non-existent touch that he doesn't hear the door peacefully squeak open. He's so in love with the feeling he doesn't feel y/n walk around the room to get on her knees in front of him.

She's in glory of his movements. Watching him stroke his much bigger cock than her masturbation version has her in a hurry to get her own panties off her body and across the floor. She's sure she's dripping onto the wood below but she does have single care in the world. Tom has his head thrown back in ecstasy as his hand starts to speed up, that's when y/n decides to go for the kill. She licks a long strip up his shaft. Her hands stabilizing him by placing them atop his bare thighs.

Tom almost jumps out of his chair. He had no idea she caught him in the middle of something so vile and wrong. Better yet, she had caught him with the tip of his dick around her perfectly glossed lips. He doesn't get to say another word before y/n's hands begin massaging the bottom of his manhood. It's slow to begin with, it's almost if she's easing him into it. Her cheeks hollow out to allow his length into her warm mouth. It's incredible. Tom can't help but buck his hips up into her throat causing her to gag slightly. It's a sound he wants more of.

His hands ball her hair into his fist. With the faster her movements become, the harder he fucks into her mouth. They sync up almost instantly. One of y/n's hands leave his cock to fuck herself. Tom's mesmerised by the way her fingers act as a replacement for his dick. He's certain he's not going to last much longer.

"I should be d-doing that," he whispers through grunts. y/n lifts her head to smile at him, still letting her free hand jerk and pull bringing him closer the edge.

"I know," she responds, just as quiet. Her mouth reconnects but Tom quickly snaps his hips up into her. Her muffled moaning vibrated against his cock as he fucks her mouth. It's the hottest thing he's ever done. He tugs and pulls at her hair, y/n's edging him on. She's exquisite, it's like she's mastered this and has allowed him to chance to feel how fucking beautiful her little mouth can be.

Like it's effortless, he comes. Without any warning, he is shooting hot stream of cum into her mouth, filling it up. Tom swears he's seeing stars but can't bring him to call out her name but instead bites down on his hand so hard he's afraid he's drawn blood.

y/n releases him from her mouth and is from an actual porn Tom spent his teenage years watching, his cum leaks from her lips and falls down on the curves of her tits. It's a sight he was to remember forever. He wants to grab his phone and click so he will get to look at her covered in his cum for the rest of his life but alas, he's still regaining his bearings.

"Tastes better than I would have expected," y/n giggles as she brings the liquid back up to her lips and swallows. There is no way this woman gets better; he thinks to himself.

"Sweetheart-," he begins but she beats him to it, her gets back on her feet and plants a sweet kiss upon his lips. He can taste himself on her lips, it's addictive.

"I wanted this," it's almost as if she read his mind. He doesn't respond but he simply looks at her, his hand coming up to twirl a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face.

y/n pulls away from him, walking over the pile of discarded clothes and bend to pick up her soaked underwear. She gives Tom a look, he's so close he can smell her juices from his seat. Her pussy look like a paradise waiting to be exploded by him, but he keeps his hands to himself. y/n paced herself over to the coat hanger, her folded panties in hand. She places them in the left pocket with a devilish smile upon her face. Tom had now place their rest of his clothes back on and had joined her.

"I'll get them back next lesson," y/n grins. Tom nods quickly, their feet fumbling under her back hits his office door. She's trapped in between him, he smells of pure sex but she's committed to her idea. He bends down to capture her lips in his with a forceful kiss. It's hungry and needy. She wants it so badly to give but she pulls away. "My roommate is waiting for me outside."

"We'll finish this," Tom whispers as he opens the door for her. It sends shivers down y/n's spine. It's not a promise, it's an order.

She grabs the rest of her things and heads off. Almost in a sick turn of events, Tom watches her bare ass strut away from him. Just like the last lesson, except this time all he can do is imagine him face fucking her. It's a beautiful sight.

━━★✼☆｡

The three days leading up to class where probably the slowest 72 hours both of them had ever experienced. A constant detail of pleasure from the night before. So when the fated day arrived, both parties didn't know what to do. Tom debated just staying home, though he couldn't deny he so desperately want just another taste. He thought, if he didn't show up, all his guilty conscience of a student giving him the best head he's ever had in his life would simply disappear and he would go back to being a normal teacher. y/n, too, thought of skipping this class for a completely different reason. Perhaps she had got a surge of confidence after hearing her professor call out her name while he touched himself or it could just be the pure scandalous nature of it all. Either way, she wanted to stay cooped up with a blanket while she watched him unravelled. No matter the psyche from the both of them, they went.

y/n stood outside the classroom for a good 20 minutes, unsure of what she should do. Should she go in now and fuck him in the small window or wait and play with his emotions? She hadn't realised how fast the time had went until she saw other student's start entering. It was now or never and unfortunately it was going to be now.

The room was smaller than y/n remember when she stepped in. It seemed more wide the last time she came in here. Of course, the last time she came in her, she hadn't sucked Mr. Holland's cock.

Her eyes landed on him in a matter of seconds. His back was turned to her as he wrote on the massive blackboard in front of him. y/n could see his muscles flex as he tried to reach for the duster above the board. She bit her lip as she thought of her nails digging into his back as he fucked her. It was a fantasy she had to push to the side.

Tom could practically smell her once she walked in. It was her normal perfume that had been intensified 10 fold. He refuses to turn around, afraid that if he did all his good heart nature would go out the window. Tom could hear the faint clinking of the heels of her shoes walk up the stairs. He so desperately wanted them to come right back down.

"Okay, as you know, you're assignment is due in 2 weeks and this is going to be the only time I will answer your questions," Tom's voice boomed. He hadn't got a lot of sleep since that night and he didn't particularly want to do this but he considered himself a kind professor, so he had too.

He turned around and saw the entire class' hands go straight up in the air. Including y/n, though hers was a little lower. Her eyebrow raised and a small smirk painted on her lips. There was no way in hell he was answer whatever question came out of those pretty lips. She looked even more exquisite than when he last saw her. A tight t-shit that had a stained 50's logo on it and a pair of tight black jeans, he knew as soon as he spoke to her, he would loose all control on himself.

So he never did, constantly dodging her. Answering every single question, even if half of them were if he was married or worse if he was free Friday night. He will admit, seeing y/n get frustrated every time he passed her to talk to another young female student made him just that tad bit excited.

It was an hour and a half of pure tension. Sure, no one else in the class could feel it but they 100% could. She never felt more out of control and for some reason, she despised it. He kept ignoring her, kept refusing her, kept defying her. It was infuriating, that she wanted to take fate by the hair.

She waited, until every single soul had walked out of the door. She waited until the last gaggle of girls had finished their blabbering to Tom before she starting to strut down the stairs. Tom refused to meet her eyes even when he knew that's all she did. Glare at him as she stomped past him desk to the classroom door. He heard it lock.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she almost spat, "sir."

Tom straightened himself before swivelled around to meet her. She was so livid with him but he knew deep down that all she wanted from him was to have the white chalk from the board rubbed up her back from him pinning her down.

"Fire away," he responded exactly the same. She stared at him for a moment before strolling towards him. She made sure to swing her hips every other time. She noticed his eyes on her, finally she was getting somewhere.

y/n pressed her chest upon his heaving one. Her face lifting to meet his. They stayed like that for a good minute, just pondering. They listened to each other's heats thumping against their rib cages. They both desperately needed this.

Never taking her eyes off him, y/n snaked her hand around the side of pocket of her coat, smiling once she found what she left. Her soaked red thong, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"I wanted to ask if I was every going to get payback?" she giggled softly. Tom knew she was playing a game but he had no idea which one it was.

"I don't think I understand," he stammered, she strutted away from him until she met the edge of his stainless desk. Her fingers gliding over the wood ever so slightly. She turned her head to look at him. She had a rawness in her eyes; lustful, a sinner's stare. It would be a look Tom was never forget for the rest of his life.

y/n suddenly jumped on the desk. Her ass moving the papers to the side as she slowly started to unbutton her tight jeans. "I think you do," it was almost a hiss but he only heard the desperation in her voice. "I want you to make me feel all the things you did that night."

Tom almost fainted just with that until she dropped her jeans the floor. She had come to class without any underwear on and her wetness was dripping onto the desk. Tom was sure was in heaven but he didn't want to believe it.

He got on his knees. His hands palming at her soft thighs. Tom didn't need another incentive, he didn't need another spur-on. Tom licked a single strip up her folds, y/n bit a moan back. It was like tasting ambrosia or doing cocaine for the first time. He needed more, so he went back in again, this time it was rougher. His fingers gripping at her ass, pulling her closer to his mouth as he devoured as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Her hands tangle themselves in his floppy curls, she tugs harshly on his scalp as he adds a finger into her warm entrance.

Tom's never felt like this before but he doesn't care. He's sure people can hear her soft but frantic moaning from outside, but he doesn't care. He'll never look at his desk the same way but like everything else, he doesn't fucking care. Tom curls his fingers in the perfect spot inside of her.

"Just like that," y/n calls out, her hair now sprawled out on the desk. "I'm going to cum sir."

Tom feels her walls contract around his fingers as he pulsing faster, her back arches and she trying so hard to force her cries back into her throat. It's a sight he wants to from above, it's a feeling he wants to feel inside of her. So, at the last minute, he retracts everything. His tongue leaves her throbbing clit and his finger, which are glistening with her slick, slid out of her.

y/n can't hold back to whine that leaves her left from the loss of his god-like tongue and fingers. "What the fuck Tom?!" she's angry with him, she wants to tell him off but before she can do it. One of his hands captures her wrist and slams them against the desk below her, pinning her to it. She whimpers at the sting of pain.

He's right above her but she can't see a single thing below her. "Look at me," he tells her sternly, she does what's she is told instantly. "You can't talk to me like that sweetness," y/n knows there is a venom behind his words even if she speaks in a melody. "I'm not your fucking boyfriend, you don't call me that."

Without any warning at all, he pounds right up into her. y/n almost spasms out of Tom's grip from the wave of pleasure. Tom doesn't move at all, he stays nuzzled inside her. It's agonising, almost painful for y/n. Having his perfect cock not jamming into her tight cunt. It's torture.

"You understand that?" he peppers kissed against the nape of her neck, she's about to cry out, she'll do anything. She nods her head frantically, hoping it's enough. It isn't. He keeps his hips locked tightly against hers. "Words, sweetness."

"Yes," she responds. She can feel him frown against her skin. He pulls right out of her and rams right back in, causing y/n to scream out in pleasure. "Y-yes sir," she corrects herself and with that, Tom starts a pace. It's slow and tantalising, he watches amazed at how her pretty folds swallow him up with every thrust. It's magnificent.

He wants to savour this moment forever. He wants to fuck her brains out for every waking moment of his existence.

"Sir, go harder," she moans below him. Her wrists bruised from his gripped, but the pain just only contributes in her overwhelming amount of pleasure. His thick cock is so much better than her fingers, no matter how many she adds.

Tom obliges and starts to really pound into her cunt. It's raw and ruthless, he's calling out her name now. "Fuck sweetness, you so bloody tight," he purrs, y/n can't respond through her chant of curses. "You're little cunt was made for me, it was made for me to stretch it out."

The dirty talk elevates her, y/n's not sure how much longer she'll last. His filling ever last inch of her. She can feel her tits bounce every time their skin collides. Her wrists are finally let free as he begins to clutch at her naked hips. It's an experience she's never felt. The sound of skin slapping and their combined gasping and cursing are the only thing she can perceive to hear. If there was a knock at the door, y/n knows she would have no idea about it.

Perhaps, it's the pure excitement and morality of this whole situation that makes them both feel like they're on cloud nine. Her arms snake around his waist, her hands move with every rough thrust into her. She's gripping onto his back through the material of his tight shirt. Her nails clasping on the contracting muscles. She would have left his back red and sore if he didn't have the damned t-shirt on to protect him.

"Fuck," she curses as he started to hit an area inside of her, she never knew existed. "Just like that sir, I am going to cum," she moans, her forehead against his. They lock eyes again, this time though there is no linger feeling of want or romance. It's just sex. Dirty, hot, intense fucking.

She's the first to come undone. The fire now transformed into a raging wildfire spreading across her entire abdomen. y/n throws her head back in ecstasy, her whole vision goes black and she has to bit down against her hand to stop and inevitable pornographic scream to jump out of her mouth. Her other hand clutches his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Tom follows shortly after, his thrusts become sloppy and erratic but never easing up. His cock twitches inside of her before he shots the hot white liquid all inside of her cunt. He pressed his lips against her as his attempt to stop his moan as well but he continues to call out her angelic name against her lips. Once, Tom pulls out of her, he watches in awe. The mixture leaks out of her hole and then pools on his desk. He's so in love with this woman it hurts.

"I have never cum that hard in my entire fucking life," she giggles, pulling her top down her flushed tits. As he too, starts to redress himself, he simply stares at her. Watches her retrieve her jeans from the floor and slip them up her bare ass. He spots her shove her panties back into his back pocket, not before she scribbles something down on a torn piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of her.

"I'm giving you a reason to come make me dinner and then fuck me again," she explains, "I put my address in there, so hopefully you can't get lost."

"You sure about this," Tom asked hesitantly, y/n now swivelled around to face him. Her warm palm caressed his face.

"I wouldn't have just done that if I wasn't," she places a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. "Make it a Thursday though, my roommate will be out on those nights," she told him as he grabbed the last of her things and unlocked the door. Tom grins warmly as she makes herself presentable for the last time. "I would clean that up if I were you," y/n laughed, pointing at the obvious mess all over his desk before quickly exiting.

As she wobbled back to her dorm, she wondered what article of clothing she should leave out on their next escapade.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: this is gonna flop, i just fuckin know it 🥴 anways i hope you enjoyed my fic that has ended my hiatus. see you (hopefully) soon 🥺

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland smut #professor!tom #professor!tom holland #professor!au #tom holland x you #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #marvel imagines #actor #actor smut #actor imagines #actor x you

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littlerockerao3 · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but if you are, I’d like 94 💕

Hi. Do you remember you sent me this ages ago? I’m sorry.

94. “Did they hurt you?”

Trigger warnings: mentions of abuse (doesn’t happen but they wonder what if it did), mentions of spiked drinks and Robb is such a gift in this it hurts so I think this count as a trigger warning as well.

~~~

Robb really doesn’t know how he managed to keep still all night. Sure, he didn’t get any sleep at all, but it’s a pretty impressive result that he didn’t jump out of bed in the middle of the night to do what he’s doing right now. He admits that this is all he was waiting for: if he couldn’t let it out yesterday immediately the moment it happened then he might as well do it now.

He realises, as he hits the punching bag one more time, that his anger is still boiling in his veins just as fast as yesterday. He throws another punch. He just can’t keep the scene out his mid. He hits the bag again. Theon who can’t even stand up on his own, drinks spilled all over the dirty living room, Skinner keeping Theon’s arms behind his back to prevent him from moving (like he was strong enough to defend himself), Ramsay’s hand clasped around Theon’s throat and jaw. Theon shaking his head and mumbling something. Robb seeing all this through the window and literally smashing it with the first thing he found to break in.

He throws another punch. Then another. Then another. And then another one.

He can barely hear the so familiar voice calling his name.

“Robb.”

The other night, Theon called his name as well. Though he sounded much more relieved than he is now: now he’s concerned, worried. But Robb just can’t seem to stop his hands from hitting the bag.

“Robb!” Theon yells again. “Hey!”

Robb is one hundred per cent sure the next punch he’s going to throw will break the chain the punching bag is hanging onto. Thought the way Theon reaches over to rest his hand between his shoulder and neck causes his arm to stop midway.

“Calm down.” Theon whispers. Robb’s breath is uneven as he tries to clench his fist even more inside his boxing gloves. “You need to calm down”.

Robb turns his attention away from the red punching bag, slowly, and intensely stares at Theon, “Did they hurt you?”

Cause the thing is, Robb doesn’t exactly know what happened yesterday, cause Theon just won’t tell him. He just knows they were at Renly’s party fighting over something stupid (they’ve been fighting a lot lately) and Theon just left with Ramsay. Robb can’t find a reason to explain why Ramsay was there, it’s not like Renly despises him less than everybody else in the world does. He doesn’t despise him as much as Robb does, of course, but that’s because no one can, not even Theon, who has more reasons to.

“When will you stop asking me?” Theon sighs, hands on his hips. Robb stares deeply into his eyes and replies, firmly, “The moment you’ll answer sincerely”.

That’s all he knows and remembers: them fighting at Renly’s party, Theon moving away from him and spending the rest of the party with anybody but him, Robb seeing Theon talking to Ramsay, Robb reminding himself how Ramsay has always tried to get to Theon and how Ramsay has a history for spiking drinks at parties. Theon leaving with him. Robb calling for him, Theon ignoring him. Theon and Ramsay and Skinner getting into some car and Robb rushing to his own, cursing himself for parking it so far away. He’s just grateful Ramsay was stupid enough to take Theon to his own place and that Robb guessed where they would have been right. Who knows what would have happened if Robb didn’t get there. He doesn’t want to think about it, but the moment they came home, Robb with blood stained hands and Theon all trembling, Robb just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He’s been to nice to Ramsay and Skinner by only punching them a couple times before Theon stopped him. They deserved worse. And that’s all he can think of now that he’s looking at Theon’s face, cause he still looks so scared and shaken and who knows how many days are going to go by before he stops looking like that.

“It’s complicated” he mumbles.

“It’s not.” Robb shakes his head and proceeds to grab the strap of his glove between his teeth and pull it open, “It’s a simple answer, yes or no”.

He removes the other gloves with his free hand and throws both of them on the table nearby. He wants to go back punching that bag so bad. He needs to pretend he’s actually punching Ramsay.

“They didn’t.” Theon whispers at some point, “They couldn’t. You came before they could do anything”.

But they could have, they would have and that’s just something Robb can’t let slip away.

“You should have let me beat the shit out of them” he says, stepping forward to let his nose brush against Theon’s: he must be gentle with him, so that can calm both of them down.

Theon reaches over to brush Robb’s sweaty curls away from his forehead, and smiles lightly, “I’ve already paid your bail once.”

Robb wants to smile in return, cause he knows that would make Theon happier, but he just cannot remove those images from his head. Theon notices that, cause he’s not stupid and also, cause he doesn’t want to focus on what’s going on with himself, therefore he’s focusing on what’s going on with Robb. He grabs Robb’s hand and pulls him gently towards him, “Come on, let’s just… go out on a walk with Grey Wind, that also relaxes you.”

It does, but it works only if he’s stressed. It works if he’s scared of failing some test, it works if he’s scared of the results of some random medical stuff turn out to be bad, it works if he’s sad. It doesn’t work if he’s mad angry. He needs to hit something. He would hit something, if Theon didn’t grab his hand, “Robb. Please”.

“They need to get what they deserve” he mutters between his teeth. He can’t even manage to speak properly, he’s just craving to destroy everything until he’s calmed down.

Theon’s hands rest on his jaws, fingertips gently brushing against his beard. “Don’t think about it”.

“How can I not think about it?!” Robb snaps, “Ramsay spiked your drink, who knows what else he could have done to you!”

He’s said that out loud and that just makes things worse. It makes it even more real, more real than seeing it with his own eyes. And more real than experiencing it, cause that’s exactly what Theon’s face is suggesting. But the way he’s shrugging makes it look like he’s trying not to make it look like such a big deal, “I’m okay, cause you were there”.

But what if he wasn’t?

“But what if I wasn’t?! What if I didn’t make it there on time?! How can you be fine with doing nothing after what happened?!” If it was up to Robb, they would have gone to the police yesterday night. But Theon wanted to go home and Robb thought he looked too shaken to do anything else, no matter how much he tried to deny that. Though today it looks like all that trying to pretend to be alright yesterday night has exhausted Theon to the point that he can’t keep pretending, today. “Cause I’m scared.” He whispers, eyes looking at the tip of his shoes. “I’m scared no one would believe me and Ramsay will get mad at me for trying to do something”.

Robb’s stare softens. Deep inside, he hates to admit that, but he knows Theon’s fear is not random. It’s actually pretty normal: Ramsay has been spiking people’s drinks since Robb can remember and he’s still doing that. It can only mean that nobody has ever done something to stop him.

“Come here.” Robb tells his boyfriend, before wrapping his arms around him. This is one of those times where he wishes he was taller than Theon, so that he could kiss his forehead without him having to bend down his neck. Instead, he just kisses his neck and rubs wide circles on his back. He can feel Theon’s tired breath against his skin, he can feel how stressed out and scared he is. And he doesn’t want this.

“You’re not the only one who had to go through that and you’re not the only one who was too scared to do something.” He begins, then he cups his face in between his hands, “Maybe we could convince some of these people who’ve been there to sue Ramsay and the others too. Maybe someone is going to do something if they see how many people went through that shit”.

Sansa knows a girl, Robb is sure of that. Renly knows someone too. So does Loras. This could work.

Theon doesn’t answer for a bit, and when he does, it’s not exactly the answer Robb was looking forward to hear, “Can I think about it?”

But it’s a start.

“Of course” he kisses his lips, softly, cause softness is what Theon needs more than ever right now. Robb is sure he will never forget the way Theon didn’t dare get away from Robb’s chest not even in his sleep, last night. Robb is relieved by the way Theon kisses him back just as softly, his hands still caressing his beard. His eyes look a little less sad when they part.

“I could really fancy a walk outside with Grey Wind though” Theon says, shrugging.

Robb nods, “Sure. Sure, we can go right now.”

At first he doesn’t get why Theon is chuckling, but god does he love that sound?

“Take a shower first, you stink” Theon smirks, then proceeds to ruffle his hair. Robb smiles in return and almost opens his mouth to ask him to join him, but realises that might not be the right thing to say right now just in time. So he grabs Theon’s hand before walking past him, and squeezes it reassuringly. It’s going to be okay, I’m here and I’ll help, I’ll do everything I can and more, that squeeze says. And it’s only when he can read in Theon’s eyes and small shy smiles that he gets it, that he knows that, that Robb allows himself to let go of him.

Robb can’t help but smile at Theon petting Grey Wind behind his ears, the big wolf happily wagging his tail.

“Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? It’s you, yes it’s you!”

Grey Winds barks once, then jumps on Theon and licks his face, causing him to rest on the grass on his back. Robb leans against the tree they’re sitting under, and whistles once to get the big dog’s attention, “Grey, come here boy.”

Grey Wind jumps on Robb’s lap. He’s no longer a puppy and doesn’t fit in there anymore but he doesn’t care. Neither does Robb.

He takes the small package of dog biscuits from his jacket and lends one over Grey Wind’s mouth, “Here, have a treat for being such a good boy. The best of all”.

He’s noticed how Theon looks happier if he has Grey Wind to play with, and something tells him he’s going to sleep in the bed with them too, tonight.

“See?” Theon sits down next to Robb and hugs his side, “Going on a walk with your dog and your unbelievably sexy boyfriend is way better than hitting a punching bag”

He pecks his cheek and Robb turns around to do the same, “How are you doing, Thee?”

Theon sighs lightly. He grabs Robb’s hand, and tries to put on the best reassuring smile he can give him, “I try not to think about it. Grey Wind helps”.

“Oh, I can see that” Robb snorts a laugh, and Grey Wind proceeds to lick his cheek too, before abandoning his lap to go and rest on Theon’s.

His boyfriend smiles, this time it looks more real. “Not my fault you picked the best puppy”.

Robb knows he shouldn’t keep pressuring him about what happened, but he needs to tell him one more thing. One more, then he’ll stop and will try and find other ways to help Theon, if talking about now that he’s still so shaken about it is not the right thing to do. He just needs to tell him one more thing. He brushes his nose against Theon’s, before he says, softly, “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but whenever you think you need something, don’t hesitate and come to me and tell me. Don’t be ashamed. I’m here for you”.

He expects Theon to tense up, but he doesn’t. He just smiles some more and pecks his lips gently. “I know. You picked the best puppy, but I picked the best boyfriend.”

Robb chuckles. He’s glad Theon is feeling at ease at least around him: if he does, then it means it’s going to be easier for him to let Robb help him.

“So did I. I have good taste” Robb kisses his boyfriend’s lips, just a small kiss, no tongue. He suddenly can’t wait to go back home so they can snuggle on the couch.

Theon brushes their noses against each other again when they part, it’s something he likes to do. Sometimes he kisses Robb’s nose too, other times he even bites it lightly, and that often leads to sexy times.

God, if Robb will ever see Ramsay again he’s sure as hell he’ll go to prison for what he’ll do to him. It’s not fair that Theon looks this way and the only consequence Ramsay has faced is just a simple broken nose.

“Do you feel like… do you feel like renting a movie tonight?”

Theon’s voice brings Robb back to Earth. If Grey Wind is Theon’s solution to calm down, then Theon is Robb’s.

“I know we technically are subscribed to every streaming service but we used to do that a lot when we were younger” the dark haired young man goes on, a light shade of red painting his sharp cheekbones.

Robb nods, and extends a hand to brush Theon’s hair behind his ear, “Yeah, of course. That sounds amazing.”

Theon blushes even harder and Robb just wants to wrap his arms around him, hide under a blanket and stay like that til the end of times.

“Tell you what, let’s go to the grocery store and let’s get all kind of sweets. Then we’ll go pick the movie” he suggests, standing up.

Theon stand up as well and grabs his hand. He winks, “Sounds like a plan.”

They’re halfway through Hocus Pocus, cuddling on the couch. The coffee table in front of them is filled with popcorn bowls and chocolate snacks. Grey Wind is snorting beside them and they’re wrapped in the big warm woollen blanket crocheted and gave them as a gift when they first moved to their own place. And Theon suddenly squeezes Robb’s arm.

“Hey.” He whispers shyly.

“Yeah?” Robb turns away from the tv and worries the moment he sees the frown on his face, “Love, are you okay?”

Theon takes a deep breath, but still manages to look at him straight in the eyes, as he says, “You feel like going with me to the police tomorrow?”

Now it’s like the knot on Robb’s throat has been untied. Yes. Yes yes yes.

“Of course.” He breaths out in relief. “Of course”.

He takes Theon’s face in his hands but lets him kiss him first. He drags him on his lap, keeps wrapping the blanket around them till it fully envelopes them. Theon wraps his arms around Robb’s neck. He’s going to be fine, he will be. Robb will do all he can to make sure of that.

That’s all he can think of, even right before falling asleep, Theon’s head resting on his chest, Grey Wind right next to them on the bed.

#throbb #theon x Robb #throbb one shot #anon #the ending kinda sucks I can’t write endings sorry :(

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tobesobri · 4 years

Photo

Nervous

the one where Y/N might be insane but Harry is definitely a shy nervous idiot. (~7k)

thank you @ anon for requesting this! I tried to do it justice, but I’ve honestly never written Harry this way so 😬hopefully it’s decent. Apart from this being probably the only request i’ve ever done, this is also my first piece of one-off writing i’ve posted in a long time, so I do really hope yall enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you to @fromyourstrulyh @aileenacoustic & @smokeinherperfume for beta reading and just generally being incredible ❤️As always, your feedback, thoughts or just a reblog are super appreciated!!

The busy conversation could not overpower the way the sun felt on Y/N’s skin. Sometimes it burned a little too hot, but other times it felt just right and she found herself basking in it, ignoring all her friends a few times too many. She knew if they were any further inland from the beach, the hot L.A. sun would be completely unbearable, but the breeze that swooshed through the courtyard every so often was enough to make the weather practically perfect.

She no longer regretted going for one of her summer dresses that had straps and a shorter hemline. Her other options had been one with sleeves or a midi skirt, but either of those would have left her boiling, even if she only had her bathing suit on underneath. The last thing she needed when seeing all her friends again was to be sweating buckets.

Especially in front of Harry.

She couldn’t remember when he’d first joined their ever-growing group, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. He was nice to look at, which was just about all she ever did because he wasn't a man of many words. All of their conversations burnt out within a couple minutes. She never had any idea what to say to him because frankly, he intimidated her. All of her friends had various connections to Hollywood, but he was most definitely the most famous person she knew. So knowing what to even say to Harry was a whole other obstacle than just simply being acquainted with him.

But she did like to look at him whenever she could get away with it. Particularly when he was chatting with someone else and she obsessed over the way his dimples went in and out of his cheeks every time he smiled. If she wasn’t staring at his face and admiring the freckles or how green his eyes were in the sun, she shamelessly watched his hands. Whether it was while he articulated them in conversation, or while he picked up his sandwich to take another bite, she couldn’t take her eyes away from them.

She wanted nothing more than for him to just have a normal fucking conversation with her like he did with everyone else.

“Hey.” Mel nudged her elbow into Y/N’s side, forcing her eyes away from Harry for the first time in the past three minutes. “Do you want to share a slice of chocolate cake?”

And for the first time since they’d sat down, something other than Harry piqued her interest. With enough sparkle in her eyes to blind someone, Y/N nodded eagerly. “That shouldn’t even be a question.”

Mel shrugged and looked over the dessert menu again to pick out the right slice of chocolate cake between a plain one, one filled with fudge in the middle, and one packed with triple chocolate--whatever that meant.

Trev, who sat beside Harry and right across from Y/N, folded his arms and leaned onto the table, “So Mel, how’s it going with that guy, uh… Alan?”

Mel rolled her eyes but kept them glued to her options of chocolate cakes, “It’s Adam.”

“Does it matter?”

Y/N bit back a smile and sat against her seat, waiting for the typical show between Trev and Mel where he let his jealousy spew out like boiling hot lava and made fun of whatever dude she was seeing all because he was too up his own ass to just ask her out. It was entertaining for the whole table, though, and especially for Y/N.

It was then, in the heat of Mel’s insults about Trev’s own miserable love life, that Y/N and Harry shared a glance, and only a glance because it was so quick, she thought she was imagining things. Just the familiar green of his irises burned into her eyelids was enough to know it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. She’d been snickering at the two in front of her when she blinked over at him, possibly because he had already been looking at her. As soon as she did, however, within less than a second he’d looked away. She would take it, and the way it made her entire insides feel like they were being electrocuted, and run with it though. He’d looked at her for the first time all afternoon and she just might gain the courage to try and talk to him again. If he would let her of course.

She thought about their last conversation and how it seemed like centuries ago, but also may have been the reason he hadn’t said a word to her today yet. A smaller portion of their group had gone to LACMA on an off day so it wasn’t as busy. She tried to talk to him about the Diego Rivera painting he’d been standing in front of which he had humorously mistaken for Frida Kahlo. Looking back on it though, she cringed at the way she’d laughed at his mistake because he probably didn’t find it all that funny. He had still laughed right along with her, as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment and he tried to find a quick escape to avoid interacting with her again on their museum trip--which he had done, successfully.

He knew Diego Rivera from Frida Kahlo, though, he wasn’t stupid, but whenever she was around and he had to communicate with her, he turned into a big dumb pile of mush who wouldn’t be able to tell his left foot from his right. He had never been so fucking nervous around someone in his entire life, and so naturally, he no clue what to make of her.

The bickering between Mel and Trev died down when their waitress returned to take dessert orders as a busboy collected dirty dishes. Although dessert was Y/N’s favorite part of every meal, she found herself pouting at the thought of their afternoon passing by a lot quicker than she expected it to.

The topic of discussion shifted once the sweets all arrived and suddenly they were all going on about Tiger King conspiracies that Y/N knew jack shit about, but still listened intently as if she did. She asked a dumb question every once in a while, which made everyone at the table groan in frustration. Eventually, though, they got onto more topics she didn’t understand the references to so she gave up.

Instead, she found herself eyeing Harry’s sampler of various cookies, particularly his painted fingers as he broke off pieces and popped them in his mouth. He had had black nail polish on at some point, but most of it had chipped off by now. The rings he usually wore to excess had dwindled down to just one on his middle finger. She missed them, even though she was sure his poor hands were in desperate need of a break from all the jewelry. His tattoos were on full display now, soaking up all the sun they could after being under long sleeve sweaters all winter. The black ink stood out against his slightly tanned skin, and especially against the red, floral print flowy button up he wore. She felt like it’d been ages since she saw him in something so casual, but they were all headed to the beach soon after all.

“Do you want some?” When she heard his voice, her eyes shot up to his face, realizing she’d been caught. Realizing he was looking at her and speaking to her because she’d been staring at his fucking hands not the cookies.

Since she couldn’t let him know about that, she nodded, “Uh sure.”

She felt even worse about taking a half of a chocolate chip cookie from him when he reached across the table and his poor, beautiful hand collided with her half-full cocktail glass that instantly dumped all over the table. It caught everyone’s attention when the glass broke and quickly Y/N and Trev grabbed napkins to soak up the liquid before it reached their laps while Val saved their plates.

Harry hid his face in his hands after placing the half of a cookie down on his plate again, utterly embarrassed by himself. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled between his fingers after dragging his hands down his face dramatically to see the mess he’d made.

“Literally the clumsiest fucker I know, you know that?” Trev said while sopping up the rest of her drink and discarding the used napkins on an empty plate. Val called over their waitress once she was close enough to help deal with the broken glass.

“Can I buy you another one?” Harry asked, his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him again and it was definitely not from the sun. He looked embarrassed and apologetic and she was positive he felt stupid because she knew she would in his place, but it made her sad that he thought any of that when it was just a silly mistake.

Harry definitely would not have minded sinking into oblivion right there and then.

“No it’s alright, wasn’t that good of a drink anyways.” She shrugged, easing his nerves just a tad, but he still felt horrible.

“I’ll pay for that one then.” He concluded, not giving her a chance to shoot him down this time, however. And when the checks came long after Harry’s incident that gave him plenty of time to recover, she didn’t have much say in it either when he snatched up her check before the waitress could even hand it to her.

Y/N could easily pay for herself, but if Harry insisted she wasn’t going to argue. It was his way of feeling better about the situation and she’d leave it be, even if it did bug her that he said he’d pay for her drink, not her entire bill. She kept her mouth shut, however, and just gave him a mean look so at least he knew she wasn’t happy about it, even if she had no intentions to stop him.

She escaped to the restroom while everyone wrapped up, knowing she’d have to go the second she got near the ocean later and she did not want to use the disgusting public bathrooms at the beach. They were always full of sand, salty water, and smelled ten times fishier than normal.

Her confidence was at an all time high when she looked in the mirror, wondering if it had been the sun or Harry to do it to her, but either way it really didn’t matter. She felt like she was on a cloud and like nothing could touch her or bring her back down.

Except, of course, when she walked back out to reality and realized everyone had already made their ways to the Malibu coastline. Sighing, she pulled her phone from her little crossbody bag and walked towards the main entrance. Before she got too far into her Uber app, she glanced up at a familiar shade of bright red floral print standing near the doors and instantly floated back up to the clouds.

“Did everyone leave?” She asked once she walked up to Harry. He held onto a cardboard box of leftovers in one hand and his keys in the other. His sunglasses, that were previously perched on the neck of his shirt, had made their way to the top of his head, pushing his hair back from his face.

He nodded. “I, um… I didn’t know if you had a ride, or...?” He stumbled and she wasn’t sure why, but it was cute nonetheless, especially since she initially had the impression that Harry would be a little more self-assured than he was turning out to be. That was what she liked best about him though, that he tripped over his words and confused artists and spilled drinks.

She held up her phone in her hands and smiled, “I’m getting an Uber.”

He furrowed his brows, but she didn’t notice when she resumed picking out the cheapest option on the app to take her down PCH as she maneuvered around him and stepped back out into the warm summer afternoon.

He followed quickly, nearly tripping over himself and then cleared his throat, “Well, um, I’ve got a car.”

She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder while she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of car?”

He had no clue why she’d asked him that, but given the little smirk on her lips, he had an inkling that if he didn’t have the right kind of car, she’d prefer to stick with her Uber options. What he was positive about, however, was that he’d never liked her more than he did right there in the parking lot as she planned on roasting his choice of transportation.

“Uhm...” He glanced around the lot until he found his car and then pointed it out, “that one.”

Her eyes fell to a bright yellow, convertible 1972 Ferrari Dino and she tried her best to not let him see the way her jaw practically hit the asphalt beneath their flip flops. Instead, she swallowed, stood up straight, faced him, and put her phone away.

“That will do.”

The surface streets were quiet, even though she’d forced him to put the top down while they drove. They were boring, too. She wanted to throw her hands up and feel the air between her fingers and flowing through her hair. Instead, they were stuck at every single red light imaginable on the short trip it took to get to the highway.

“How long have you had this car?” She asked once they’d stopped again, making herself at home in his passenger seat as she rested her elbow up on the door where the window would normally be if she hadn’t rolled it down the second he started the engine.

“Mm,” He thought, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger while his other hand clung tightly to the top of the steering wheel, enough so that she could see the whites of his knuckles. Was he nervous? Did he not like to drive with the top down? Or did he just not like to drive with her constantly staring at him?

“Couple years probably,” he answered finally while adjusting the radio to turn some music on and she took that as her cue to leave him alone. Maybe he was nervous because he liked to focus on the road while driving and not on her silly questions.

They got up to about twenty-miles-an-hour now while he flipped through stations, his eyes bouncing between the console and the road. He tuned the radio until she wrapped her hand around his forearm.

“Sorry, I just,” she let go of him after he gave her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read. He could have been mad at her for touching him for all she knew. “I really like this song.”

He moved both hands to the steering wheel as he sat back into his seat. He’d never heard the song before, but if she liked it then he’d leave it on. They drove for a bit longer until he heard her softly singing along and glanced over at her. He’d only meant to look for less than a second, but when she met his gaze, he got a little too distracted.

Her eyes darted out the windshield and her sudden, “Harry!” caused him to slam on the breaks, luckily just seconds before he managed to rear-end a Honda Civic. He was positive his hunk of metal would have done quite some damage.

“Shit,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair to shift it back into place as his heart raced a million miles.

Then, of course, it was racing for other reasons when he heard her giggling from beside him and once he was done freaking out, he joined in. He was such a fucking idiot but it apparently had made her laugh, so… silver lining?

Once they were on the highway, he no longer felt as tense. The wind from the ocean beside them blew his hair in every direction as he got up to the speed of traffic and she watched his hands as they shifted gears. She let her eyes, and her mind, wander while staring at his tattooless arm and the way the muscles flexed under his skin. It gave her that dangerous self-confidence all over again.

He heard her seatbelt click and immediately shot his eyes over to see what the actual fuck she was doing taking it off while he was going over sixty miles an hour. An all new reason to be anxious filled his entire nervous system as he watched her, through various quick glances, standing up in his passenger seat with no care in the world about flying out. As if he hadn’t already nearly caused an accident, here she was trusting him enough not to do it again.

Her skirt flew up in the breeze but she didn’t really care too much about that either, and neither did Harry. When she finally managed to peel her hands off the windshield, she threw them up and shouted at the top of her lungs, forcing nothing but a huge cheesy grin onto Harry’s face even though he wanted to pull over and kick her out for doing what she was doing and nearly giving him an aneurism.

She sat back down within seconds though, and his blood pressure settled at a more normal pace when she had her seatbelt secured around herself again.

“Wouldn’t have offered you a ride had I know you were going to do that!” He shouted over the sound of the wind.

“I’m in a Ferrari on PCH, you should have expected it!”

He shook his head at her as he glanced over his shoulder to switch lanes and make his off-ramp. She was fucking nuts. And he was a fucking idiot.

They sat in the parking lot together for a moment, staring out at the ocean, after he put the top up, closed the windows, and cut the engine. She was still coming down off of whatever high possessed her to stand up mid-freeway and he was trying not to act like a complete fool being alone with her again where it was quiet and they weren’t moving anymore.

“How come we never talk much?” She asked him before either of them could even think about getting out of the car and joining their friends down on the sand.

He stared straight ahead at the waves for a moment as he thought about why they weren’t as close as he wished they were and that it might be his fault. He just never knew what to say to her to not completely embarrass himself. Within the past hour, it was clear he still hadn’t figured it out.

He sighed, “Probably because you stand up in cars and make me nervous.” He didn’t realize, however, how his words would be twisted until she did so.

“Oh, so we don’t talk because I make you nervous?” She teased with a smirk but she clearly had no idea how right she was about that. Or maybe she did have some idea about it.

Either way, he tensed up realizing he had, yet again, said some dumb shit and went and embarrassed himself again.

“I’m kidding,” she assured when he remained quiet, “I just think we should talk more.” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress and it most definitely did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Then maybe one day you’ll let me drive your Ferrari and you can stand up.”

The breeze dropped several degrees as they walked through the sand to their friends, who were already set up with a few chairs and an ice chest full of wine coolers. It was a nice relief from the burning afternoon sun, but Y/N still regretted not packing a sweater.

As they walked together, someone made a whistling sound at them as if suggesting something had happened with her and Harry between the time it took them to get from the restaurant to the beach. It made him uneasy when everyone looked at them like they were amidst a walk of shame, and even more so when he glanced down at her to his side to see she was also slightly uncomfortable.

“What took you two so long?” Trev asked the second she and Harry reached their little set up. Everyone was already either taking their clothes off to run into the ocean, or securing their spots in the warm sand, nursing a bottle or two of alcohol.

Y/N squared her shoulders, “Harry almost caused an accident.”

His head whipped towards her so fast, he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck. It was one thing for her to know about his dumbassery, but everyone else didn’t have to be in on it too.

A couple of their friends giggled, making Harry scratch at the back of his neck nervously, shaking out his curls and hoping they didn’t all think he was the biggest imbecile alive for not knowing how to drive a car like that. Especially since he did know how to drive, his brain just didn't function the way it was supposed to when Y/N was around.

“Or maybe,” Trev leaned in suggestively glancing between the both of them before settling his eyes on Y/N, “Harry finally won you over with his Ferrari.”

She scrunched her face, trying to figure out what the fuck Trev meant by finally? Harry never tried winning her over at any point in the past. Hell, before today she had been afraid that he hated her, wondering tirelessly what she did to get on Harry Styles’ bad side.

When she glanced at Harry, she was relieved to find that he seemed just about as confused as she was. So it was just Trev being a slimy asshole as per usual.

She rolled her eyes and shoved Trev’s shoulder as she walked past him, eliciting an overly dramatic response as he held his shoulder like a ginormous baby and called her a bitch under his breath.

Both Harry and Trev watched as she lifted her dress over her head, tossed it and her purse into a chair full of other people’s clothes, and flashed Trev her middle finger while she glanced over her shoulder at him. Before she ran off to the water, however, her eyes found Harry just in time to see the way his eyes flickered back up to her face. She smiled knowingly at him just before taking off, hoping his gaze would find its way to her backside again as she did so.

And frankly, her bathing suit didn’t leave too much to the imagination. It was all held together with strings that could come undone with just a single tug from Harry’s hands. Her bottoms were definitely cheeky and her top… Harry should not be looking.

But he was, he constantly found his eyes gravitating towards her as he sat beside Trev on land while she played in the water with the others. He also found his fists clenching whenever one of the other guys in their group got a little too close. He should also not be jealous.

“You know,” Trev began, sitting back against his seat and resting his wine cooler on his knee, “we all know you’re infatuated with her…” Harry turned to look at Trev like he was insane, “except for her of course. Probably because you act like an idiot around her and she thinks there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

Harry really couldn’t disagree. He did act like he only had a handful of brain cells sometimes, but in his defense, he didn’t do it on purpose. He had no clue why he couldn’t operate properly whenever she was around. No one had ever done that to him, not a single person he ever found remotely attractive turned him into a helpless ball of nerves the way she did.

Sighing, Harry stared out at the horizon through his tinted sunglasses and mumbled grumpily. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Knew you were too good to be true,” Trev teased, assuming Harry was referring to there being something seriously wrong with him rather than being maybe a little bit infatuated with her.

Harry shook his head with an exasperated smile on his lips, “You’re a cunt.”

“Listen man,” Trev sat forward again, taking a swig of his drink, “She’s fucking insane sometimes, but if you like her…” He shrugged.

“How insane is she, exactly?” Harry asked, although he already had an inkling given her earlier actions in his car.

Trev snorted out a laugh, “Not like that. She’s just like… I don’t know. Does crazy shit. She was the first one to jump off this huge ass cliff when we went diving a few summers ago.” Trev reminisced fondly before laughing again when he recalled something else Y/N had done. “She got drunk off her ass at New Years and did a handstand in the middle of Gasolina.”

Although Harry didn’t know what Gasolina was, he still imagined how fucking hilarious that party must’ve been. She was the good kind of crazy, he assumed, not the kind that might chop off his fingers in his sleep.

“Besides, all she does is work and hang out with her dog.” Trev added, leaving Harry to wonder profusely about what kind of dog she had. He considered a dachshund at first, but maybe a chihuahua was more her speed.

“Anyways,” Trev sighed, settling into his seat again, “I just think you should stop acting like a twelve-year old and ask her out if you like her.”

Harry’s brows furrowed again, “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He watched as Trev’s eyes landed right on Mel, who had her arms around Y/N’s shoulders as they descended further into the ocean, and he sighed even deeper this time. “That’s way more complicated than the two of you.”

He never would have offered her a ride, no matter how much he liked her, when she’d first came up from the water and threw her dress back on. She was a wet, hot mess for a long while until they all packed up after they watched the sun set and it started getting dark. There was no way he was leaving her there to wait for an Uber by herself, however, once they’d gotten everything packed up into the back of Trev’s Jeep.

Not that she was pulling her phone out to scroll through the app or asking anyone else for a ride.

So, she wound up in his passenger seat again, staring at the sky as it mixed through various shades of peaches and purples until it turned a dark blue color and the stars started coming out as he drove. They listened to some oldies station while heading north on PCH and she never stopped looking at how beautiful the world was around her, especially the part of the world that sat right next to her as he drove silently with his sunglasses on top of his head again. He was cute when he focused, she thought.

When he reached her driveway, she really didn’t want him to leave yet. She’d even considered taking him the long way to her house and hoping he wouldn’t notice just to spend more time with him. She stared up at the stars still while they sat idly in her front yard until she looked over at Harry with a smile and he met her eyes curiously.

“Do you wanna meet my dog?”

She shivered as she closed the door behind Harry, locking it before returning her attention back to him. Seeing him planted into the familiar backdrop of her house felt weird, but it also swelled her stomach with a million butterflies.

“I’m gonna change real quick. The living room’s through there,” she pointed and he followed, “you can make yourself at home.”

While she disappeared up the stairs, he wandered hesitantly, removing his shoes before he walked onto the carpet in her living room. He sat down in the corner of her loveseat, taking in all the surroundings. Her house was nice and he thought about what she did for a living, trying to remember if it had ever come up in conversations before. He didn’t get too far lost in his thoughts and his wandering eyes when there was a sudden bang on the back door behind him followed quickly by loud and incessant barking.

When he looked out the windows that faced her backyard he realized she did not, in fact, have a dachshund or a chihuahua. She had a fucking pitbull.

Possibly even more fitting, and slightly less scarier than the chihuahua.

“Sorry,” she ran in the living room just then, in a pair of lounge shorts and a loose-fitting long sleeve, and went straight to the back door, “I promise Patrick’s not as mean as he sounds.”

“Patrick like… from Spongebob?” Harry asked as she unlocked the back door to let him in.

She grinned like Harry was the first one to automatically get the reference without her having to explain it, “He was a little bit dumb as a puppy.” She shrugged and opened the door and the tan-colored pitbull ran straight towards Harry, jumping on the couch and into his lap like they were already the best of friends.

Patrick got about ten licks to Harry’s poor face before Y/N got a hand in between and tried pulling the stubborn dog away. She apologized again and even though Harry assured her that it was okay, he still seemed highly uncomfortable. When she moved, hoping Patrick would stop molesting Harry with his tongue, she’d been horribly wrong and he went back in for more and Harry was far too polite to do anything about it himself besides making feeble attempts at pushing Patrick away awkwardly.

So, instead, she ran around the couch and pulled him off of Harry, squeezing herself between him and her dog. While Harry wiped off his face, she turned toward him once Patrick had settled down, “I swear he’s trained, he just… forgets boundaries sometimes.” She said the last bit through her teeth, directed specifically at Patrick while petting the dog on the head. He just continued to stare past her at Harry, panting and wagging his tail.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Harry assured her again. He really didn’t mind. Maybe a little, but it wasn’t the end of the world to have too much attention from a dog. Especially if it was her dog.

It was quiet for a moment before she perked up like she’d just remembered something, “Oh, do you want something to drink? I forgot to ask before.”

Harry didn’t really want her to leave just yet, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted her to. He could feel the nervous sweat on his forehead and his clammy hands and he just needed a moment to collect himself. So he nodded, “Sure,” and she bounced back up onto her feet and left him alone with Patrick.

While Harry had successfully wiped the sweat from his face on the back of his shirt and his hands on his jeans--and cupped said hand over his mouth to check his breath-- Patrick scooted right up to Harry’s side, curled into a ball, and rested his head on Harry’s lap. Which was the exact sight Y/N returned to moments later with a couple glasses of water in her hands.

“Guess he likes you, then.” She laughed lightly while handing one of the glasses to Harry and sat down on the other side of Patrick. It was a gap bigger than the one between them previously, but Harry was okay with that. Maybe he’d stop sweating so profusely from just being in her presence.

They were quiet again, but not for too long that it ever got awkward. Harry was sure, at this point, that Y/N was a professional at avoiding awkward silences with the way she said the most random shit right out of the blue.

“Do you like stand up?”

He looked at her like he had no clue what the fuck she was talking about, but in hindsight he should have known. In the moment, though, when she caught him off-guard, he literally could not fathom in his brain what she meant by stand up. So he just shrugged and mumbled, “I guess?”

She didn’t seem to notice his enormous brain fart when she reached forward to grab the remote from the coffee table a little too excitedly. And once she turned on Netflix and searched for John Mulaney, it clicked in his head. Maybe Trev had been right. Harry might just have something slightly wrong with him.

He’d never personally seen any of Mulaney’s stand up, but he’d heard the name and when Y/N mumbled that he was one of her favorite comedians, that’s all he needed to know about the guy. Harry would sit through hours of his stand up if it meant spending more time with her.

John Mulaney had already gotten a few giggles out of Harry within the first five minutes of The Comeback Kid and every single time it happened, Y/N glanced at him proudly as if she were the one telling the jokes and making Harry laugh.

She felt even more full of herself when John’s punchline about exes came seven minutes in and Harry nearly laughed his entire ass off at, ‘Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die.’

Actually, she was certain he’d done some damage to his body when Harry laughed so hard that he held a hand to his stomach, doubled over on the couch and choked on his own spit. She tried not to laugh at his reaction as she sat forward and grabbed his glass of water off the coffee table to hand it to him.

Her movements caused Patrick to get up and jump off of the couch, settling for a cool spot on the hardwood floors to stretch out on as he panted. Harry sipped on his water until he could breathe properly again.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “the dick jokes get me every time too.” Although she intended for it to make him feel better, his cheeks just burned twice as hot from the way she said dick so nonchalantly.

“Are there more dick jokes then?” He asked.

“There’s always more dick jokes to be made.” She confirmed, making him chuckle again. “So you’ll stay and laugh at them with me?”

He wasn’t sure at what point she’d gotten so close to him on the couch, but when she laughed and he felt her shoulder shake against his own, he quickly tensed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her closer, he just didn’t want to act like a complete fool again. And his reaction to just her touching his shoulder was enough to tell him foolery was on the horizon.

He also wasn’t sure when it became a given that he was staying to watch all of the John Mulaney specials on Netflix with her, but he wasn’t complaining. As long as he got to hear her laugh and imitate some of the jokes and weird voices John did, he was happy staying exactly where he was all night and, in fact, when she announced they’d burned through all of them, he was disappointed.

Even more so when she flipped the TV off and he wondered how much longer until she planned on saying goodbye and then who knows how long until they’d see each other again.

It was quiet, apart from Patrick’s snores, but not for long.

“I’m sorry I stood up in your car and made you nervous.”

He turned and met her eyes and she was very clearly not sorry about it, but he didn’t want her to be either. “S’alright.”

They stared at each other for a moment while he thought about what else she was going to say, if anything at all. But he should have known better than to assume she didn’t have anything else up her sleeve.

It was just that the next time she spoke there wasn’t the perpetual cute little grin on her face. Instead, she met him with a frown. “To be honest, Harry, I kinda thought you hated me before today.”

He scrunched his face, absolutely detesting that she ever thought that at all. “I don’t hate you.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

She tilted her head to the side while she looked at him and then gave him a reason why it wasn’t that ridiculous of an assumption on her part. “Then why do you always avoid me?”

He felt bad about the way he acted around her, especially since she had the wrong impression about it. He didn’t avoid her, he just didn’t know how to talk to her when he always acted like a neanderthal around her.

Sighing, he shuffled a bit in his seat as the anxious sweats really made themselves known. “You were right when you said we don’t talk because you make me nervous.”

She grew more confused by that, “You’re literally Harry Styles, how do I make you nervous?”

He shrugged, “Been trying to figure it out myself.”

Although he’d been avoiding her gaze like the plague, sure that he’d never be admitting any of this to her while looking right into her eyes, she still smiled sweetly at him. He was Harry fucking Styles, who got up on a stage more times than she could imagine and sang in front of thousands of people, but she made him nervous.

She took him off guard again. “Are you seeing anyone right now, Harry?”

His eyes quickly panned to her, wide and puzzled by her question. “No… wh--”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish after she’d gotten the only answer she wanted out of him and suddenly she was a lot closer than she’d ever been. In fact, there was no longer a single gap between them as she reached her hand up to his jaw and pulled his mouth down onto hers. Even though he didn’t know how to react at first, feeling her on his lips, his brain swelled with all the good kinds of chemical reactions and he kissed her back, wiping his hand on his jeans again before he touched it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in his palm softly.

Normally, he’d be the one making the first move, but he didn’t really mind it being the other way around with her. Who knows if they ever would have gotten to this point if they’d waited for him to make the first move, after all.

He definitely didn’t mind it when she swiped her tongue across his lower lip and positioned herself into his lap. His head had fallen back into the cushions while she straddled him and got a little too carried away, but, again, he didn’t mind it. He fed off of her energy until he was slipping hesitant hands down her waist and on her backside, making her moan into his mouth that both felt and sounded like heaven.

Heaven. He was in heaven and this completely bizarre angel was in his lap, making out with him on her couch and rubbing herself all up on him in ways that were so very unheavenly.

Neither of their dopamine infused brains registered the sound of Patrick’s collar when it was vastly more important to focus on the way she giggled around his mouth and how his tongue felt swirling around with hers.

However, when he jumped up on the couch beside them and began licking Y/N’s face, she snapped back to reality for a moment. Pulling away from Harry with a whine, she sat back on his knees and wiped the slobber with the back of her hand while she stared over at Patrick.

“Can I help you?”

Patrick did some whining of his own while he dug his paw towards her, begging for attention. So she gave it to him, petting his head and scratching his ears while Harry watched, still very aware of his hands on her hips and her free hand leaning on his shoulder.

“Crazy dog,” she muttered mostly to herself while Patrick laid down next to them.

“Like his owner,” Harry teased, mostly just to bring her attention back to him.

It worked too as she pinged her eyes back to Harry as fast as humanly possible and faked offense, “You think I’m crazy?”

“You asked me to meet your dog and then somehow hooked me into staying for three hours to watch John Mulaney specials and then completely out of nowhere… ended up here.” He nodded his head down at their current positioning with her still perched on his lap.

It took her a moment, but she fully realized what she had done soon enough. And once she did, she was quick to apologize. “Shit, Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to--”

Before she managed to get much further away from him in failed attempts of removing her foolish self from his lap, he grabbed hold of her wrists and brought her hands up to either side of his head, pulling her as close as she’d been before with just an inch or so gap between their lips this time.

“I think that’s why you make me nervous,” He admitted softly and after glancing between both her wary eyes, his gaze landed on her lips just moments before he stretched upwards to meet them with his again.

They fell back into place completely, except this time, she’d gone as far as to undo all the buttons on his shirt while she made out with him on her couch. Once it was open and she had full range of his chest, she pulled away from him again and watched his body rise and fall quickly as he caught his breath. She traced her fingertips over his butterfly tattoo, and like magic formed a few of them in his stomach while he watched her through heavy eyelids.

When their eyes met again, she smiled excitedly. “Does this mean I can drive your car now?”

#100% rewatched the comeback kid in the middle fo writing this jnjvf #but im really happy and proud with how it turned out so im excited!!#kinda longer than i expected it to be but oh well #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #shy!harry

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