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1tad0ri · 3 years

Note

(u can say no if u no like but-) giving itadori yuuji a blowjob in the bathroom stall cuz he was feeling horny and was being handsy with reader (this is before being involved in jujutsu) thank you so much!!

warning: public sex, blowjob (even tho this is before the jujutsu stuff, they’re still 18+ so pretend the jjk school is a college or smth <3)

itadori yuuji x fem!reader

how can i NOT like this

“that was embarrassing.”

“seriously? i thought it was pretty hot.” yuuji was trailing wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck, one hand shoved up your shirt to squeeze your tits while his other hand kneaded your ass.

you rolled your eyes, arms looped comfortably over his shoulders. “yeah, it was hot, but you weren’t exactly subtle, babe.”

“no one even noticed!” he leaned back to look at you, indignant, and you took in his swollen lips and the shimmer of your lip gloss along his jaw. he was so cute. you leaned up to peck his lips, finding them soft, thinking about how he was so sweet (even in spite of him groping you like this).

“yeah, i’m sure the prof didn’t notice you trying to finger fuck me in the third row of the lecture hall.”

“yeah, he didn’t.” when yuuji grinned unironically, you resisted the urge to slap him, instead pushing him back and against the opposite wall of the bathroom stall. you sunk to your knees and set about unbuckling his jeans while he automatically rested a hand atop your head.

“you look hot like that.”

you rolled your eyes, freeing his cock from his boxers and pumping the length, smearing the leaking precum along the head. “you always say that.”

“and it’s always true.” his hand slipped down to brush against your cheek. “you’re always beautiful, babe.”

you rolled your eyes again, but still turned your head to kiss his fingers in thanks, letting your tongue loll out when he pressed against your bottom lip. yuuji slipped his fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them, tongue running all over as you stared up at him.

“holy fuck.” he shoved them further in and you greedily coated them in your saliva, maintaining eye contact with him. “babe, please let me fuck you right now.”

you let the fingers slip out of your mouth, spit dribbling down and you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. “nope!” your chipper reply had his face falling and he pouted. it was so hard to resist that look. “you act like you don’t want your dick sucked, yuuji.” pumping the length, you landed a tentative lick to the head, making him shiver.

“i just want you to feel good too, baby.”

fuck. there was a reason he always left your legs shaking—yuuji was an unselfish lover, always eager to please, whether it be you wanting to sit on his face or his dick, he let you do whatever you wanted. there was something else you wanted to do right now though. instead of saying anything else, you leaned forward to wrap your mouth around his cock, pushing it in as far as it could go, hands wrapped around what couldn’t fit.

“fuuuck.” his grip on your head tightened as he threw his own back, the stall wall shaking as his head slammed against it.

you popped his dick out of your mouth, saliva coating the surface of it, shiny under the grainy bathroom lights. “yuuji, baby, you have to be quiet.” after class, he had pulled you into the closest bathroom to the lecture hall—not exactly subtle but it’d do. thankfully, the room had been empty, even with the mass of students milling around just outside in the hallway.

“right, right, sorry.” yuuji’s sheepish grin was a heavy contrast to the current situation and you once again wondered how he had so much duality. “feels good. i’ll be quiet—i promise. pinky promise.” he held out his hand—oh my god, he was actually serious—and you looped your pinky around his just to humor him—this bet would be over before it even started.

hand squeezing around the base of his cock, you raised an eyebrow at the strangled groan that bubbled out of him. “mmm, yes, very quiet, yuuji,” you mocked him, giggling, and set about pumping his length again. the slick coating it let your hand slide easily over the skin. “if we get caught i’m blaming you.”

“you can do whatever you want.” yuuji watched you with lust-darkened eyes, humming under your touch, and you felt a light push on the back of your head. “come on, baby girl, going to take me all, right? you’re torturing me here.”

“dramatic,” you mumbled under your breath, but still sucked the salty tip onto your tongue. you could tell he was trying his best to control his breathing and you decided to take pity on him, pulling it out of your mouth again. before he could complain, you began leaving soft kisses down the sides of the flushed skin, enjoying the way his thighs shook and how his eyes kept squeezing close in pleasure despite him fighting to keep them open and watch you—you’d work him up to his high, carefully, slowly, letting him keep his voice low.

“shit,” he whispered, back of his hand pressing against his mouth when you set back pushing his cock down your throat, stopping halfway to let him adjust to the warm heat. your hands worked on the lower half, messy and wet from your spit. “fuck, yes. just like that, baby girl. can i move?”

you gave a slight nod of your head—well, as much as you could with your mouth filled like this—and an affirmative bat of your lashes. you knew he liked when you looked pretty just for him. with that, you felt both of his hands on the back of your head now and you let him cant his hips forward, forcing you to swallow more and more of him. your hands fell away from his cock to grip his thighs, hollowing your cheeks and opening up your throat to let him slide in easily.

“you’re doing so good. just a little more for me, okay? shit... yes, keep going. you’re so good, babe.”

by the time your nose hit his pelvis, you were taking shallow breaths, trying to wipe off the drool that threatened to drip from your lips around his cock, and doing your best not to gag as he filled your mouth so wholly. yuuji was drawing circles on your cheek with his thumb, mumbling praises, and you could tell he was trying not to cum right then and there.

“that’s my baby. your mouth feels so warm. god and your fucking lips. so messy... i love you, you know that? mmm... bet your pussy feels even better.” everything he was saying was going straight to your core and you could feel the building arousal between your legs, cunt throbbing. you squeezed your thighs together to satiate it for now (he’d take care of you soon).

as soon as the weight holding you down released, you pulled off of his cock with a gasp, the back of one hand shooting up to wipe off the fluids that were dripping down your chin and your other hand setting a steady pace sliding up and down his dick once again. spurred on by his earlier words, you set back kissing and sucking along his dick, hands and mouth working in tandem. yuuji was cursing and moaning under his breath, biting at his fist to keep himself from yelling out. he set a steady rhythm where he would tilt his hips forward to meet your mouth when you would sink down—it made you gag but the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat was perfection.

his breathing grew labored the longer you worked, hand splayed against the stall wall behind him to keep himself steady. “fuck... gonna cum. swallow it for me, baby? don’t wanna get you messy—your little outfit looked so cute today.”

knowing he was close made you quicken the bob of your head, slurping and licking along the shaft. “mhm. yuuji, wanna taste you.” you kissed the tip. “on my tongue?”

“anything you want, princess.”

you let him push and pull your head along his cock as he reached his high, his face contorting into pleasure—you could see his muscles straining under his thin shirt, biceps flexing as he held onto you, and neck pulled tight as he tried to bite back his moans. it wasn’t long until yuuji was spilling into your throat and you dutifully waited until he was done, doing your best to swallow around his cock, and then lapping up any of the excess—you showed him your tongue full of white as a cheeky reward, biting your lip and grinning when he took in a sharp breath.

“that’s my baby girl.”

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ediths · 3 years

Text

here’s to us

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers (with a twist)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You hate Harry more than you’ve ever hated anyone else, and he feels the same (or does he?). The people around you see the interactions that the two of you have and believe that you’re a match made in heaven, but you can’t see it, and you doubt he can either. When he’s the last option to help you with a project that you’re working on, things are either going to go very well, or they're going to crash and burn.

Warning(s): alcohol, cursing, kink talk, angst, sadness, innuendos, tension, a set of lovers trying to convince two people that they’re meant for one another, fluff

A/N: this was originally a piece written for a writing challenge but that’s been cancelled (i love u liv take your time i will still participate in any and every wc you ever do bb) so this is now just another piece haha!! Thank you to @tbslenthusiast and @harrysclementines for letting me know that this piece wasn’t as bad as i thought it was (literally forever ago like.... i wrote this a long time ago lmao)!!! Also thank you to @kiwismoon for letting me send you parts of the fic and scream about how much i hate myself for writing things like i did!!!

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Relaxing.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing tonight. You’ve been stressed out about the article that was due in less than a week and you were in need of a night out with your friends. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the inspiration to write the piece. Plus, you had been completely swamped with your school work. Even though you were still in college, you had gotten a job as a writer and chosen to take online classes.

Sarah had suggested that you and her go out and have a few drinks. That had quickly developed into you, her, and Mitch. Then your ‘friend’ Michelle was added into the mix.

Now, you’re standing at the bar, waiting for your next shot of tequila and wondering how you let Sarah talk you into this. You hate bars. In all honesty, you only hate them because someone always seemed to mess up your nights when they were drunk. Luckily, that someone isn’t here tonight. You had made it abundantly clear to Sarah that if she were to invite anyone, it better not include him.

As the bartender hands you your shot, you down it and place the glass down on the bar. You wait for him to retrieve it before turning to walk back to the table that Sarah, Mitch, and Michelle are occupying. Right before you sit down next to Sarah, you catch a glimpse of a very particular head of curls. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you immediately feel the urge to exit the building. There’s no way that you could mistake that for anyone else but Harry. He’s the only person that has curls as seemingly perfect as that. Plus, he’s the only broad shouldered, muscular, tattooed man that you’d ever seen around here with hair that’s grown out to the point where it passes his shoulders.

Fighting the instinct to be as far away from him as possible, you sit down next to Sarah and do your best to ignore his presence.

That lasts all of three seconds. It’s as if something is pulling your focus towards him, and you can’t stand that, so you quickly tell Sarah that you’re going to head out. Grabbing your coat, you give her a story about suddenly having inspiration and not wanting to lose it before offering to take her almost empty cup back to the bar. She nods, wishing you a farewell.

As you’re making your way over to the bar, someone knocks into you and the small amount of liquid left in Sarah’s cup splashes onto your chest. You scoff, turning to tell whoever bumped into you to watch where they’re going. You’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes, and suddenly your words get caught in your throat. All you manage is a scoff and a quick “fuck you” before handing him the cup and walking out.

You stand outside of the bar, leaning up against the brick wall of the building as you order an Uber for the ride home. The stench of alcohol is radiating from your shirt, and you almost gag at the smell. Beer has never been your favorite, and you have absolutely no clue how Sarah can drink it.

You place the order and go to stand on the sidewalk to wait for the car to pull up.

“Fancy seeing you here.” The voice seems to carry through the entire street.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” you snap. The chuckle that he releases at your words makes your blood boil.

“Just wondering why you’re avoiding me, love.” You don’t have to turn to know that he has a smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you have a degradation kink or something?” Your words have their desired effect as he all but chokes on the air.

“Um, no. Why? You trying to turn me on, darling?” You roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not.” How can he be so fucking annoying all the time? “I’m just wondering why you continuously pester me after I tell you how much of a dick you are and that I absolutely cannot fucking stand you.”

“Because normally when you do that, you find some way to compliment me. And I think it’s funny how flustered you get when you realize what you said.” You hear him walk closer to you, but you keep your eyes locked straight ahead of you.

“So you have a praise kink.”

When he speaks, his breath hits your ear. Fuck, you didn’t know he had gotten that close. You have to fight the shiver that’s threatening to run down your spine. You can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s having any kind of effect on you. “Do you want to test it out?”

You scoff, stepping away from him. “You fucking wish, Harry.”

He hums. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You finally turn to him. After seeing him, though, you begin to regret your decision. Seeing him like this, in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, hair forming his face in the most perfect way, isn’t doing you any good.

“I’m not going to be your temporary fix, Harry. Go find someone else to give you a good time.” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “I don’t even like you as a friend, so stop fucking around like that. It pisses me off.”

Before he can say anything else, your Uber arrives and you check the plates before getting in the backseat and shutting the door, effectively blocking him out.

What he would have said if your Uber hadn’t pulled up, though, is something that Harry decides you’ll never get to know. Because just when he was about to say, “I’d want you to be more than temporary,” you found a way to break his heart yet again.

The Uber driver has continuously given you looks since you got into the car. His nose scrunched up the moment that you closed the door, and honestly, you can’t blame him. You smell like cheap beer and probably look like an absolute mess. He’s most likely just checking to make sure that you don’t look like you’re about to throw up all over his backseat.

You roll your eyes, trying your best to ignore him. It’s not even your fault that you’re like this right now, it’s Harry’s.

Harry, who you absolutely despise with every bit of your being. He’s been an arrogant, selfish dick since the very day that you met. He only cares about things when they include them, constantly dropping comments about his success, and always finding a way to insert himself into any and every situation. You can’t seem to get away from him. He seems to be around no matter what you try (at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but now you’re convinced that he just does it to get on your nerves).

Harry, who’s so fucking annoying and unbearable but also so hot that he makes your mouth all but water. He can draw a reaction from you without even trying. Harry, who you’re so fucking attracted to despite hating him, and that fact makes you hate him even more.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be attracted to someone that makes your blood boil.

I’m just drunk, you repeat to yourself as you push the thought of Harry as far out of your mind as you possibly can.

You groan as you walk out of the kitchen.

“Y/N you know I’m right!” Sarah yells after you. “Stop trying to avoid it.”

Plopping down on Sarah’s black faux leather couch, you roll your eyes even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Sarah!”

She doesn’t say anything until she comes into the living room and sits on the couch next to you. She has a bowl of chips in her hands. When you go to grab one, she pulls the bowl from your reach.

“Admit it, you and Harry would be absolutely great together.” You could scream. She’s so adamant about the idea, but there’s no way that she could be right.

“Dude, we hate each other. What do you mean? What do you expect from us in a relationship if we can’t even be in the same room together for more than a few minutes without arguing.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“I know, I know! But Y/N, come on. The two of you are so compatible.” You laugh at her words. How could she possibly think that when she sees the way the two of you interact.

“How so?” you ask, just to entertain her theory and let her get her thoughts out.

“Okay, hear me out. You both like music, right? He sings, you write songs. That’s literally perfect right there, even if you were just friends.” You nod, not saying anything. “You’re always talking about how you want to do hair and nails and stuff for your friends and I know that he’d let you paint his nails and play with his hair.” You had in fact been telling her these things, but you weren’t aware that she would choose to use them to try and set you up with Harry. “You’re both really funny and smart. You guys talk about a lot of the same things, too. It’s just never when you’re around each other.”

“Alright, yeah, that makes some sense.” She perks up slightly but you hold a finger up, motioning for her to wait a moment before getting her hopes up. “It makes sense, but you’re forgetting a few things. I couldn’t write songs for, or even with, Harry. He’d find something wrong with him just like he does now. He’d nitpick them until there was nothing that I could find about the song that he didn’t hate.” You sigh, thinking back to what she had just said. “We’d have to be too close to each other for me to mess around with his hair or nails and you know that every time we get within a few feet of each other, there’s some kind of fight that always gets started,” you trail off, giving her a chance to speak.

“Are you going to give me a reason why the last example of why you’re perfect for each other is incorrect?” She groans when you nod.

“Yeah, actually. We may like the same things and be funny and smart or whatever, but there’s no way that we’d be able to talk to each other.”

“Why?”

“His communication issues.” She throws her head back and obnoxiously groans.

“He doesn’t have communication issues.”

You burst out laughing. “He’s an Aquarius. Of course he does, right on top of those commitment issues.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, Y/N. One of these days you’re going to understand that the two of you are quite literally a match made in Heaven.”

“Not likely,” you mumble before reaching for the remote and finding a movie to put on.

“Wait, what?” Mitch is looking at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“You guys were right. Always have been, really, I just couldn’t say it before now.” Harry gulps, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come, though.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” Harry shrugs it off.

“Not letting it get to me anymore. I’m tired of letting her break my heart.” He curses himself when tears begin to line his eyes.

“If I had known you really felt that way I would have backed off.” Harry nods at his words. “Sarah would’ve too.”

“It’s fine, Mitch, really. I just, I’m just tired, you know? It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling me to her but every time I try to get close she shows me, yet again, that she can’t stand me.” He’s never been ashamed to show his feelings, and right now isn’t when he’s going to start. He lets his tears fall down his face as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting in.

“I really didn’t know, H. Normally I can tell when you like someone but it wasn’t like that this time.” Harry nods at him.

“You get pretty good at hiding your feelings when you’re hiding heartbreak after heartbreak.” He’s silent for a moment. “Should I cut off my hair?”

“If you want. But don’t do it just because you’re sad or you’ll regret it.” Harry closes his eyes as he debates the decision. A part of him wants to do it anyway, make the sadness go away for a moment as the exhilaration of a new haircut sinks in, but the rational part of him knows that Mitch is right.

As he sits there with tear stained cheeks, new droplets wetting his face every few seconds, he really wishes that he could hate you. He wishes that he could find anything to hate about you. But when he searches his brain for a reason to dislike you, he comes up empty. It’s frustrating, really. You seem to hate everything about him while he can’t hate a single thing when it comes to you.

He hears Mitch get up, presumably to go get something to eat, but he doesn’t open his eyes. There are a million memories with you flashing through his mind and it hurts him even more to know that every single one of them have been bad.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Your voice is high pitched, some would even say a little whiny. “Sarah, you promised me that you’d sing the song for me.”

“I know, Y/N. But something urgent came up with Mitch’s family and I have to be there.” Even over the phone, you can hear how worried that she is, so you can’t really bring yourself to be upset with her.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Really, I understand.” You hear her sigh of relief and a small smile graces your face, glad that she now has one less thing to worry about. “I’ll just find someone else to do it.”

“Ask Harry.” She suggests.

“Why would I do that?” The way your mood changed was immediate and it’s almost sad, how fast he gets you worked up.

“Because, Y/N, this project is due in like two days and he’s available.” She says in her duh voice. “Plus, he can sing really well, so just ask him. The worst thing he can say is no.”

“That’s a lie. The worst thing he can say is yes.” Sarah laughs before wishing you good luck and hanging up.

You groan, thinking about what Sarah said. She’s right, honestly. There’s nobody else that you’re going to find on such short notice, especially not one that can sing as good as Harry can. Admitting to yourself that you need him (which is something you never thought you’d say), you pick up your phone and click on his contact.

“Y/N?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, a little raspier, too. Almost like he just got out of bed. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you, the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth when he sounds like that.

“I need your help.” You grimace at the words.

“Alright. What do you need.” Your mind races, trying to figure out why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment or a snarky remark to throw at you. You ignore it for now, though.

“I need you to sing a song that I wrote for a project.” He hums, and you can picture him pulling his bottom lip between his fingers and then running his hand through his curls.

“Okay, when do you need me?”

“Does tomorrow work? Around noon?” You hold your breath as you hope for the best.

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place then.”

You thank him and hang up, letting your phone fall from your hand down onto the couch. Harry Styles, the man that you swear you hate, is coming to your house tomorrow.

When he arrives the next day, you almost immediately hand him the song and let him read over it, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time with him than needed. When he says he has a few suggestions, you’re terrified that he’s going to tell you how awful he is, but he actually only has a few suggestions to help with the flow of things. Besides that, he promises that it’s a really good song.

You go to grab your camera and set it up while he strums on the guitar that he brought. Once you’re ready to begin filming, he sets the paper with the lyrics on it to the side and nods.

He begins singing after the camera has started recording and you get entranced by him almost immediately. His eyes close as soon as the first word leaves him mouth and with them shut you feel much more comfortable while looking at him. His hair is flowing all around him and you have the intense urge to tuck the strands behind his ears. There’s a small crease between his brows, that of which she wants to smooth out with a kiss to his forehead. He seems so concentrated, and something about it pulls at her heartstrings.

You shake your head. He’s your enemy, remember? you think to yourself as you divert your eyes to somewhere else in the room.

After you’ve looked away you find yourself wondering why. Why do you hate Harry so much, really? Yeah he can be arrogant and cocky and rude but who isn’t? Yeah he talks about his famous life and his awards and chart placements a lot, but you would do the same in his shoes.

Plus, he really is pretty funny now that you stop to really think about it. He’s all the things that Sarah had told you over the past few months, and you can’t believe that you didn’t realize until now. You don’t hate Harry, you’ve been convincing yourself that you do to hide the way that you really feel about him.

You’re broken from your thoughts when he clears his throat. Once you turn to him, there’s a smirk on his face. “Could feel you watching me, love.”

Your cheeks burn at the statement. Regardless of the truth in it, you’re still not very keen on admitting that you were ogling him only minutes prior.

“It’s alright, I find myself looking at you sometimes, too.” You don’t say anything to that, and the room falls quiet.

With that stupid smirk, that’s way too hot for it to natural and fair, he picks up his keys and his coat and walks to your front door. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You raise your hand in a pathetic half wave goodbye and try your best to smile. As he opens the door, cold air sweeps through the room and you can see the snowflakes falling outside. “Great, there’s a storm.” He groans, but still continues to walk out the door.

“Harry, wait!” He stops, turning to face you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Um… leaving?” He gestures towards his car that’s most likely covered in snow by now.

“Not in this weather you’re not.” Your voice grows hard as you glare at him. You know that he’d most likely rather not be around you, but there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to allow him to risk his life by driving home.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight, he just shuts the door and shrugs his coat back off. He hesitantly comes back over to take a seat on the couch. You stay silent, struggling to find the words to say.

“So, um, do you want to watch something?” He asks after a few minutes of nearly unbearable silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching Lucifer on Netflix, but if you don’t want to watch that, we can watch a movie or something.” You offer, looking over at him.

“Yeah, we can watch that.” You grab the remote from the table and walk over to sit next to him on the couch.

Pulling up Netflix and starting Lucifer, you let your eyes wander to Harry for a split second before noticing that he’s already looking at you. You immediately divert your gaze. Your cheeks begin to heat up, but you try your best to ignore it.

After watching almost an entire season of Lucifer, you’re just about ready to go to bed. You’ve gotten increasingly more comfortable beside Harry and you’ve even started to lean into him slightly. Not a single part of your body is touching yours, but you can tell that you’ve gotten closer.

You’re about to get up and brush your teeth when the lights go out. You groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “Great, power’s out.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums in response.

“Stay where you are. I know where the candles and the flashlight is, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to get around.” You stand up, feeling your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Opening the cabinet closest to the wall, you pull out the three candles and the flashlight. Fuck, you forgot that there are only two candles. That’s not enough for there to be one in the hallway on the table, in the bathroom, and in the living room for Harry. And fuck, your extra blankets are in the washer.

You shake your head, lighting the candles and walking to the bathroom to place one down, and then through to the hallway to do the same. Making your way back to the kitchen, you pick up the flashlight and switch it on.

Once you reach the living room again, you clear your throat. “Okay, bad news. There were only two candles, and they need to be in the hallway and the bathroom.” You cough awkwardly. “Also, my extra blankets are dirty and I don’t want you to lay out here in the dark and freeze to death so,” your voice gets quieter, “do you maybe wanna come lay with me?”

He chokes on his spit and then clears his throat. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure. If that’s okay with you, of course. Remember, I can always go home.” You shake your head as his words.

“Nonsense, come on.”

Once the two of you are in your room, you climb into your bed and wait for Harry to do the same. Neither of you say a word as you get comfortable as you try to get to sleep. Without the heater working and there only being one blanket, though, it’s a little hard to stay warm and comfortable. “Um, Harry, I- can I- you- can we maybe… fuck I don’t know.”

You feel him turn towards you. “Are you cold, love?”

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, letting you lay your head on his chest and wrap yourself up in his embrace. His arms come to wrap around you and one hand finds its way to your hair as the other rests on your hip.

As you bask in his warmth, you try your best to not let yourself think about the way that you feel so perfectly comfortable in his arms. About how he smells so divine and he’s so warm that you’d be content with never leaving his embrace. About how, without even realizing it, you’ve been letting yourself believe that you hate Harry when really you’re in love with him. However, you’ll never tell him that. Not a chance. If there’s one thing that you absolutely will not do, it’s let Harry Styles break your heart.

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re still in Harry’s arms. He isn’t awake yet, so you let yourself appreciate the way that his hair is tickling your face and the way that his arms are holding you tightly to his body. You let yourself enjoy the way that he’s got ahold of you like he can’t bear to lose you.

You know that when he opens his eyes, everything is going to go back to normal. You’ll have to hate him again and he’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. That thought shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his voice. “Mornin’, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, all but entranced in the way that his voice is so much raspier when he first wakes up. “Sorry for being all over you, it was cold last night.”

You go to move away from him, but he keeps you hugged to him. “Don’t apologize, like having you here, dove.” The words confuse you, but you don’t question them. Instead, you let yourself relax back into him.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, but the air is comfortable this time. “Do you wanna go get some coffee if the roads aren’t bad?” Harry whispers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you climb out of bed and get ready for the day. You let him use an extra toothbrush and once you brush through your hair, you hand the tool to him. He gives a small “thanks” and gets to work on taming his hair as you walk out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he’s walking towards the living room with his keys and then he’s leading you out the door to his car.

The ride to the coffee shop is silent besides the hum of the radio, neither of you really knowing what to say.

Once the two of you slide into a booth at the little diner that he drove you to, you order a coffee and something as he does the same.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I don’t really know much about you.”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him.

“I write. My job is to write articles for this company. But I’m still in school technically, so I’m taking online classes to finish getting my degree. I like songwriting. Um, I think that’s about it.” Your cheeks heat up as you tell him about yourself, although none of the things that you’re listing are embarrassing.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about your songwriting before?” He ponders, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Um, you hate me. Or.. hated me? I don’t know. I don’t want you to tear it apart just because you’re some hotshot writer. Or because you hate me.”

He pulls back, looking down. “Never hated you.”

“What?” You had to have heard that wrong.

“Ever stop to think why I was only rude when you got rude first?”

Your jaw drops as you think it over. “No, um, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well. I never hated you.”

“So, you’re telling me that I hated you and you just… never hated me?” He grimaces.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He offers you a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Throughout the next few hours, you sit there with Harry and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind. He pays for the bill, although you insist on letting you help. As you’re walking out to his car and he’s about to drive you home, he stops. “Um, hey would you maybe want to hang out some more?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you agree nonetheless. “Yeah, I actually would really like that.”

He nods, climbing into the car as you smile to yourself.

It’s been six months since you made Harry stay over at your house because of that pesky snowstorm, and you’ve never been more thankful for the weather.

You’ve spent the majority of your time together, going out to eat when possible and staying over at your house most nights. His is too big, as you’ve always said, so for the simple sleepovers, you insisted that he came over to yours. You’ve grown closer and closer to him, and now you can confidently say that he’s your best friend.

Along with the growing friendship, your feelings have gotten deeper. There’s not a single part of you can deny that you’re absolutely, head over heels in love with Harry. And you don’t want to anymore. You still don’t want to tell him, but you’re no longer lying to yourself in the slightest.

Today is the only day thus far that you’ve even slightly regretted how close that you’ve become with Harry. And that’s because you’re currently standing at the airport, head buried into his chest as you try to find a way to say goodbye for the next six months.

“Don’t want you to go.” You whine as you hold him as close as you possibly can.

He murmurs a “fuck it” before pulling away from you.

“Come with me.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “I know, it sounds crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But listen, we’ll go home, back to your place and we’ll pack your bags and then we’ll go. I’ll reschedule my flight. I- I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his curls (which you’d begged him to let you braid, but he said it was easier to have it down for flights). “Listen, you’re my rock. I- I feel like I can breathe when you’re around me. Fuck, Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

You freeze, completely shocked by the words that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid. Forget I ever said anything.” He’s rambling because he thinks there’s no way that you can feel the same but you do.

“I’m in love with you, H. Have been for a long time.” Before he can respond, you surge forward and grab his face in your hands. Bringing his face closer, you slot your lips with his and allow the kiss to envelop you. After a few moments, you pull back. “Let’s go home and get my bags packed.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #okay yeehaw tell me what you think #here's to us

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soulwillower · 3 years

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tozier (vii)

(tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here’s my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, also minor violence, bit of blood, sub reader AND dom reader, BOTH baby, light choking, mild mild cumplay, oral (fem recieving)

part 7 of the tozier series [ i ii iii iv v vi ]

guys!! finally the last part, thanks for all the love on this series :) this was rly so so much fun to write for yall, pls let me know how u feel about this/the series in general

(losers and reader are 20+ and in college in this)

4.5k words

♡

"i fucked your friends, anyways." you say with a grin.

"funny, y/n. as if any of them would settle for you." richie snarls, smirking as if he's proud of what he'd said. it makes you smirk, shaking your head. if only he knew.

"richie, i don't think she's joking." ben speaks up. everyone's eyes turn to ben, and your heart pounds as you bite your lip. you look at each of the others quickly - ben's gnawing on his lip and looking at richie uncertainly, mike is staring at the ground in thought, eddie's staring at his lap with an amused grin, bev is smirking between the two boys with her eyebrows raised, and bill is looking at ben with a small look of realization.

your eyes land on stan, who's staring back at you intently, a suggestive look on his face as he tugs a small part of your underwear from his front pocket as he thumbs it with his finger. you send him an intent look back, trying to beg him not to do it.

when you look at richie, he's shocked, mouth agape. "what?" richie says quietly. "you fucked my best friend. it was only fair." you say with a shrug, smiling at him. he looks like he might punch you.

you stifle a laugh, trying to keep a straight face but failing. richie looks furious as he walks up to you, the two of you standing in the middle of the make-shift circle the losers formed in the living room.

"which one?" he says through a clenched jaw.

"all of them."

the room is silent as everyone's jaws drop except yours, bev's, and surprisingly stan's - the latter of whom are smirking. richie looks like he's in utter disbelief. it's silent for a few moments, until someone breaks the quiet.

"who was the best?"

you turn bright red at that.

"shut the fuck up, eddie!" richie yells, no sign of joking on his face; he's red as he stares you down. you don't cower at all in front of him - in fact, you're definitely the one with the most power in this situation, and you smirk.

"so... a-all of us slept with y/n?" bill says in shock. everyone looks around and you're just smirking, your brother furious. "i can't fucking believe you. this isn't funny at all." richie snips.

"this isn't any different from what you did, richie. c'mon, it was just some fun. it's not like it meant anything more to any of us." mike says. you're shocked that they're all taking it so well.. you never expected them to find out, but they seem to be on your side. thank god.

your eyes dart to stan, who's still sat on the couch. he meets your eyes and doesn't back down, his gaze piercing and intense. his eyes course over your figure and you feel a twinge of emotion as you remember his hands on your skin, his lips.... you clear your throat as you look away, hoping to god nobody will notice your lace undies sticking slightly out of stan's pocket.

"-why are you taking her side?" richie hisses, shoving everyone away. his eyes barely leave yours, his fists clenching down by his sides.

"because you are in the wrong, richie. you cannot possibly be mad at me for this." you say with a grin. "sorry, you're just overreacting. plus you're not just fucking cecily, now you're actually dating her. which is way more shitty. and clearly they all wanted me, richie. i'm an angel."

bill snorts from where he's standing, "yeah r-rich, you're the one who always says that girls who suck fingers without being told to go to h-heav-"

richie throws his empty cup towards bill, missing by only an inch as he yells, "can it, denbrough! shut the fuck up!"

you're bright red from bill's words, looking from him, to richie, and then catching stan's eyes again. you swallow, throat dry.

"-wait, who was the best?" comes from bev this time. you bite your lip, watching as richie shoves her lightly. you grin, "well, ben was the sweetest, but mike was the most surprising-" "you better shut the fuck up right now y/n." richie mutters. you shrug, "you talk about cecily all the time to me!" you yell. "plus, i'm not finished. eddie... well, that was the dirtiest." you smirk at him and he grins at the ground, richie moving towards you. you back up swiftly, still talking. "-eddie fucked me in your bed, you know."

richie shoves you hard, looking the angriest you ever have seen him. everyone else gasps or rushes towards the two of you, but as your back hits the wall near the fireplace you barely wince, laughing. "then there was bev... that was the hottest. you were in the other room." you wink.

bev gives mike knuckles out of the corner of your eye and you almost laugh, watching richie as the others tug him back from you. "y-y/n, stop. we get it, r-richie's gotta calm down." bill says as he holds back richie's seething form.

you tilt your head, grinning at bill. "what, you don't want richie to know that you have the best dick game?"

everyone stops, and richie freezes in bills arms. "wh-" bill starts with a cocky smirk, but then richie's wrestling bill to the ground, and your eyes are widening. "richie, knock it off!" bev yells, laughing as richie shoves bill's head and bill just laughs on the ground.

mike and ben get him off of bill, who's sitting up with a disheveled shirt and smirking. "jesus, richie." stan mutters, still on the couch seemingly unbothered.

you feel the need to make it worse, just to rub it in. "richie, it's okay. he felt bad at first, fucking me in my bedroom while you were asleep next door-"

"shut up y/n!" richie yells, loud enough that you think the neighbors could have heard. stan laughs from the couch, and richie turns to stare at stan, who's lounging as if nothing's happening, looking entirely amused and unbothered. it’s hot.

it's quiet for a moment, and it seems like everyone thinks you're done. you mutter, "but stan was the most recent, like ten minutes ago, actually." stan doesn't even really react to your words, he just grins devilishly at richie, dimple popping in his cheek.

you clench your thighs.

richie turns to you again. "you're a fucking bitch. you’re so disgusting, it's no wonder you couldn't get any of my friends to want to date you. so you just tried to fuck them all instead. you're embarrassing." richie spits. your eyebrows draw together and you almost quip back but a movement makes you look to your left. stan rises as he states, "richie. shut up." you and richie both look to stan, as do the others.

"i don't want to hear shit from you, uris. fuck you, i've told you for years to keep your paws off my sister." he spits, and stan tilts his head.

"she's a grown up, richie. she's not just your sister. if she wants me to go down on her in the backseat of your car, why the hell would i say no?"

and then richie's swinging at stan, punching him hard in the face.

"richie!"the others call, bill and mike pulling him away and holding him firmly this time, shocked that he really did it. "stan?" you call, moving toward him as he flexes his jaw and holds the side of his face. he stands all the way up and licks his lip, a smear of blood leaking from the fresh split on his lip. richie's shaking his hand, face bright red under his glasses.

"fuck all of you." richie hisses, turning and shoving eddie and ben out of the way as he grabs his car keys and storms out the front door.

it's quiet after richie leaves, and everyone decides that he needs cool off time before he comes back or before anyone tries to talk to him. so they then get the message to trail out and head to the basement in groups of two or three until just stan remains. "stan, i'm sorry." you say weakly, offering a hand. he lets you lead him to your bedroom upstairs, silently looking at the ceiling as you re-enter the room with a shitty first aid kit.

stan is impossible to read as you tear open a wipe to clean around the cut. your hands shake as they rise to his face. "i'm sorry." you whisper, the guilt getting to you.

you jump a bit as one of his hands lands on the bare skin of the back of your thigh. you meet eyes and stan stares directly at you, "i'd do it again."

you smile shyly, looking down and swiping across his bottom lip to collect the blood. "i never meant for this to happen, i guess. i was just so angry, and i- yeah."

it’s quiet again.

"when did you and bill fuck?" is all he asks after the silence. you blink at him, thinking. "um... a few weeks ago? when we went to kiera gross's party."

he hums, his hand still rubbing your bare leg and making you feel weak. his fingertips graze the skin of your ass before moving back down, making you exhale shakily. you feel like you want stan to know that you don't have anything going on with bill - but you're nervous. "i promise, i- god, would you stop fidgeting?"

your hand grabs his jaw, but he jerks his head away and he tosses you a glare. "i'm fine." he mutters.

"i don't have to be doing this, i can just go back downstairs." you snap, crossing your arms.

"yeah, perfect, why don't you go let bill fuck you again?" stan quips. "he was the best, right?" you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you look at his pouty lips. "stan, come on. and tilt your head up."

it's silent again and stan's staring up above you, avoiding your eyes as you wipe a bit of alcohol over his busted lip. "y'know, i hate to say it, but this is kind of hot." you whisper.

he stares at you dryly. "you think your brother socking me in the face is hot?"

you laugh, "no, i think me telling you what to do is. you take directions well." his face blooms light pink at your words and you feel proud. he’s watching you carefully, "really? that's cute coming from you. i seem to remember you begging for me to tell you what to do not even an hour ago."

you swallow, cheeks going red, but you notice his are too. "maybe you just need to be put in your place, stan." you whisper, leaning forward to capture your lips together. he winces slightly, his busted lip tender against yours, but his hand grips your ass immediately, tugging you towards him.

you slide onto his lap, straddling him easily. the kiss starts slowly, but quickly heats up when he pulls you down to grind on him, causing you both to let out shaky moans of pleasure. then you gently push his shoulders back, “wanna feel you inside me.” you whisper, noticing his knowing smirk as he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch you.

you slide back on his lap, undoing his pants and sliding them down his legs. his cock springs up and you bite your lip, hand wrapping around his base. you pump slowly, watching as he bites him lip and tilts his head back. you're filled with desire as you take in his size, desperate to feel him. then you're pressing a kiss to his lips, balancing up on your knees and teasing him against your slit, spreading your wetness. he groans, bucking his hips up but you shush him, kissing him again.

he pulls off your shirt, and you quickly do the same to him, taking in his toned torso. you silently thank whoever made stan so goddamn good at baseball. he groans as you place his hands down and off your body, gently sinking down onto him.

you both let out loud groans, relishing in the feeling of him stretching you out perfectly. his head falls onto the wall behind him as you start to move on top of him, stabling yourself on his chest. “fuck, y/n.” he groans lowly, eyes shut in pleasure.

he looks so perfect under you and you move yourself quicker, loving how he fills you. one of your hands slips into his hair, pulling and making him groan, his hips stuttering. “stan…” you moan as he places kisses on your neck and chest, moving your hips as you bounce. his teeth nip at your skin, his hands rising to grip your ass, hiking up your skirt.

leaning forward, you find a new angle and bite your lip to keep from screaming at the feeling. stan's biting his own bruised and split lip, his face flushed and chest heaving. he’s hitting deep inside you and you feel full, moaning as you bounce up and down. you moan into his skin, sucking dark marks up and down to column of his throat,

you lean to press your hands against his chest, changing the angle again. “fuck.” he mutters and you moan, your legs burning but the pleasure flowing through your body. he all but growls, his head falls against the wall again with a groan of pleasure, his hands raising to your hips and fucking up into you, eyes scrunched. his hips are stuttering and he’s flushed, looking like heaven under you. "stan," you moan, "you feel so good, fill me up s'good." you whisper, unable to stop yourself as you moan.

through breaths, he's whispering into your ear. "sorry, who did you say fucked you the best?" he asks as you clench around him.

"shut up." you whisper into his ear as you bounce on him, your hand rising to his throat.

his eyes lace shut, screwing with lust as he moans, hands hard on your hips as he fucks you down onto him. you squeeze his throat lightly, feeling him swallow under your palm. your lips meet and he bites down on your lip hard, moaning at the feeling of your hand on his neck.

"who fucks you this good?" he says, and you can feel his voice vibrate under your palm, his lips in a sexy grin as his eyes flutter shut. "shut up, stan." you say again, "don't make me leave and let you finish yourself off." you whisper in his ear.

he moans at that as you move your hips, your hand still around his throat.

his hand rises up your back, palm sliding over your bare skin and then gripping your breasts, starting to thrust up. you moan loudly, forehead falling to his shoulder at the new angle as stan stretches you and hits perfectly deep inside you. your hands fall to his chest, clenching around him as you whimper.

your legs burn and it's almost like stan can tell, because he's lifting you off him and then swiveling you so that your back falls onto the mattress. he hums, "no, you won't leave."

you raise your brows as he grabs your legs, pulling you down towards him on the bed. "what makes you think i won’t just get up right now?" you ask.

but then he's sliding into you, one leg held by his hand and the other behind him. he fills you up and makes your toes curl and your vision cloud in pleasure with one stroke. and then he's thrusting, your whole body bouncing as he pounds into you, hitting your g spot perfectly and making you gasp sharply in pleasure.

"because," he whispers into the shell of your ear, "nobody can make you cum like i can."

you let out a shaky breath, the last ounce of dominance gone from your body as he fucks you into the mattress. he slips his thumb into your mouth and you wrap one hand around his forearm, sucking on his thumb and swirling your tongue over the tip of the finger as he stares into your eyes.

he bites his lip, grinning. "what was it bill said? that girls who suck fingers without having to be told go to heaven?"

you blush at that as he thrusts into you, and he coos as he slips the finger out of your mouth with a light pop. "yeah, guess he's right. you are my good girl."

and then he's rubbing your clit gently with that thumb, his hips rocking into yours and making your legs shake. you moan loudly, the pleasure making you squeeze your eyes shut.

he hums, "you'd better be quiet or everyone's going to know who's really your favorite." he whispers cockily against your lips, and your eyes roll back as you moan quietly.

he smiles at you, other hand smoothing your hair. your eyes fall to the marks from your fingers around his neck, and you get shiver of pleasure knowing the effect you have on him. "you need me. say it." he whispers against the skin of your chest.

you let out a strangled, "n-need you, stan... i n-need you." you rush out, feeling dangerously close to your second high of the day. he smiles, kissing you sweetly as he thrusts deeper than before, making you moan into his mouth a low whimper. the aching need is becoming almost unbearable, and you pull him closer to you, clenching around him as you near your high.

"it’s okay, i need you too, babylove." he whispers into your ear, kissing your hairline as he tugs your leg up more, hitting a different angle. the new sensation pushes you over the edge and you're moaning his name in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut as you pulse around him. you feel euphoric as he rocks you through your orgasm, kissing you softly.

his name falls from your lips as you hold him tight, your nails leaving small half-moons in his skin. you come down from your high and stan's right behind you, only a few more thrusts until he stills slightly, his breath shake as he props himself above you.

he pulls out and pumps himself, biting his lip as a bit of blood lingers from the split. you're breathless as he cums in spurts on your stomach, enthralled by the sight of his beauty. "god, y/n." he whispers, the david star charm on his necklace glinting in the light against his bare chest.

"didn't want to cum inside you." he whispers against your lips, but you pull him closer, "it's okay, i'm on the pill anyways." you whisper. he swallows, sighing in relief as he collapses next to you. "good girl." he whipers breathlessly. you smile into his neck as he pulls you closer to him, your naked limbs warm against each other's bodies. you lay there for a few moments, listening to his rapid heartbeat calm down as he plays with strands of your hair.

he gets up suddenly, though, and pulls on his own underwear and then pulls your own from his pocket of the pants on the floor. you swallow, watching him as he slowly slides your underwear up your legs slowly. he watches you, too - "did you fake it?" he asks.

you blink at him. "no, actually." you admit, face red. "never with you."

he smirks, kissing your bare legs as he makes his way up your thighs. you swallow, heart beating quick. "wh-what are you doing?" you ask. he shrugs, "you look so beautiful when you cum. i want to see it again."

your throat dries up as you try to swallow to avoid choking at his words, shock coursing through you along with desire. holy fuck. "but your lip-" but he shakes his head, "-don't care." he says, eyes already focusing on your heat.

"o-okay." you say shakily, "god, please," you add, looking at him as his breath hits you. he watches you as his tongue sticks out, licking a stripe up your pussy before swirling on your stimulated clit, making you gasp in pleasure.

the feeling is sharp and pleasant as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks lightly, tongue running over your folds. his hands move to hold your thighs as he delves in, your moans quieting as the pleasure increases after already being so overstimulated.

you're already shaking. his mouth moves on you expertly, his tongue sliding to fuck up into you and making your hips buck, his nose brushing against your clit. you tug on his hair and he groans, sending vibrations through your body that make your toes curl. "stan, f-fuck," you say quietly, whimpering.

its soft as he looks up at you, his tongue working you so well that within a few minutes, you know you’re already about to cum. your fingers tug his hair hard and then he's reaching to cup your face.

his thumb presses against your lips and you kiss it softly, making smirk in between your thighs as he kitten licks your clit and draws a gasp from your lips. “stan, oh my god, i’m so close.” you sigh out, overwhelmed by how good you feel, by the pleasure coursing through you and the affection for the boy you’re with.

he just holds you tighter to his face, lapping your juices up and flicking against your clit before sucking, your thighs tightening. “stan, please, i’m gonna-” and but yourself off with a high moan, hand covering your mouth as you hit your high. you cum for the third time on his tongue, your legs shaking as you ride it out, your fingers combing through his curls. you sigh in bliss as you come down from your high, full of affection and need.

stan rises from between your thighs, pressing a kiss to each before pulling up your lacy underwear and kissing your lips.

he's wordless as he leaves the room, coming back moments later with a warm washcloth to clean himself off your stomach. you watch him the whole time as he smiles, your handprint fading from his neck. your stomach flutters as you pull on a sweatshirt and press a kiss to his nose.

but the door opens and shuts from downstairs and you both share a look: now is not the time to test richie.

stan looks to your window, then back to you, "i'm going to go. it's probably best."

you pretend not to be disappointed. "y-yeah. makes sense." stan stares at you for a second with a gentle smile before standing and quickly getting dressed the rest of the way.

you watch silently with an aching heart as he pulls his shirt on, grabbing his shoes and then leaning to kiss you quickly. "hey." he says softly, and you meet his eyes. "i'll... see you soon."

"okay." you whisper as he slips out your window and down to your roof.

you don't see stan for almost eight days after that. he doesn't phone the house, the losers don't come by much, stan not at all. richie doesn't speak to you, only in passing and only micro aggressions. it's lonely.

it's almost sunset when the door knocks, and you take your time walking to open it.

you swing the door open and do a double take as you see the boy standing on your doorstep, hands in his pockets. he looks nervous, but when his eyes catch your figure, his face turns red.

stanley uris looks devastatingly gorgeous in the dying light of the afternoon.

"-oh, i thought..." he clears his throat. "i thought richie'd be here." he says, swallowing. you raise your brows, "he's at work right now, actually." you respond, toe drawing circles in the ground. "why did you even try to come and talk to him? he's a nightmare right now, he'd definitely try to beat you up again." you say softly. he chuckles a bit and your heart keels over and surrenders to him.

stan shrugs, "he's been my best friend since we can remember. it's not as bad as he seems to think, i know we can get through this."

you nod, heart then deflating as you realize that stan's intending to apologize to richie and beg for him to forgive him - of course friendships are more important than hook-ups, but after last time... and the way stan had stood up for you when richie was being mean... you'd hoped things would be different with him.

because you think you've loved stan for a long time.

"anyways, he has to learn to accept that i have feelings for his sister. i'm not going to sacrifice my happiness just because he's acting like a child, or that he's mad that i spend all my time thinking about you."

your head snaps up to him and your eyes widen, heart soaring at his words. "wh-wait what?" you ask, suddenly shy. "you-" you just smile, not knowing what to say. stan shrugs, as if it's as simple as saying the sky is blue.

"i think about you all the time, y/n. i like you as more than a friend, more than just a good fuck. i want to be yours, i want you to be mine. always have."

you smile so big you think your face may split in two. "i think about you too, stan. haven't stopped in a few years. i missed you last week."

"then can i take you out?" he asks boldly. "promise i'll hold your hand and buy you dinner."

"he'll kill us." you say, looking into stan's bright honey eyes. they're full of confidence and mischief and you think he's absolutely irresistible. stan's large hand finds purchase on your waist lightly as he smiles, "has that ever really scared you, y/n?" he asks.

you smile as you take his hand. "of course not."

he kisses your forehead as you step towards him, his arm pulling you closer and releasing hordes of butterflies in your stomach. "think we should go visit him at work? order a shake with one straw and make out in the corner booth?" stan asks, the light catching the purple and yellow skin of his fading bruise.

you laugh as you walk towards his car, shoving him a bit. "you're an asshole." you say, butterflies rampant. his laugh makes you warm and he leans towards you. "you can say that all you want, but i know you've had a crush on me since we were kids." he teases.

you roll your eyes. "you're really testing me, uris."

"it's okay, tozier. i think you're beautiful even when you're mad." he says, pecking you on your nose. "well you better get used to it, i guess." you mutter, and he chuckles a bit as he kisses your forehead.

"i will never get tired of you, no matter what you do or what your brother thinks."

tag list:

@gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @psykronium-cube @ruefulposts @letmereid @topper-mostofthepopper-most

#stanley uris smut #stanley uris x reader #losers club x reader #losers x reader #richie tozier x reader #beverly marsh x reader #mike hanlon x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #bill denbrough x reader #ben hanscom x reader

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koutarouthighs · 4 years

Text

『 orange slices 』

S U M M A R Y ― orange slices are usually eaten during or after sports events to replenish hydration, vitamins, and antioxidants; these characters can be forgetful, so what will you do to help them remember that sometimes it’s important to take care of themselves even though all they want to do is get lost in the game of volleyball?

post type ➺ headcanons fandom ➺ haikyuu!! characters ➺ daichi ⧾ bokuto ⧾ kuroo genre ➺ fluff tags ➺ college!au; established relationship; word count ➺ 2k+ request ➺ [YES/NO] ↳ request here!

⤭ people always tease you and daichi, calling you mom and dad, or playing around and saying, “oh, it’s like you two are already married!” and you suppose, most of the time, they’re right. you two just click. ⤭ you try to make it to as many of daichi’s intramural games as possible, given your busy school and work schedule. and every time, without fail, whenever he spots you on the green chatting with another one of the player’s girlfriends, that signature little bento box is seated safely beside you. ⤭ after the game is over, he snags one last refill of water from the team jug before jogging over to you, standing in the way of the sun so you’re not blinded when you look up at him. although, he shines brightly enough all on his own that it’s still tough not to narrow your eyes even just a little. ⤭ he makes small talk with the girls around you, their boyfriends slowly trickling in as they wrap up from their games. daichi sits next to you, hand on your knee, careful never to interrupt or overstep, always aware of you in every capacity. there is laughter as you all share stories about your least favorite professors and that one assignment you just can’t shake. ⤭ daichi waits until his stomach growls to make a move for the bento, knowing that the box is big enough for the both of you. you unravel it carefully, putting the cloth wrapping to the side before allowing him to unlock the lid.

more below the cut ↴

daichi’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head as the steam from the still-warm meat and rice wafts upward to his face. he sighs and leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek before taking the set of chopsticks and digging into the food.

everyone else is watching you two, in awe or disgust at the natural ease of your relationship. you two sit closely, read one another’s minds as you get him a napkin when you see sauce drip from his chin, and he passes you the thermos filled with some sort of tea when he notices you trying to stifle a cough.

“thanks, honey,” daichi wipes his face clean before kissing your temple this time, one hand on the back of your head to steady you as he leans forward. he tucks his tissue into the empty box and nuzzles your cheek with his nose, “you always make such good lunch.”

it’s a simple recipe, one even tanaka couldn’t screw up, but the affectionate words are not lost on you. your face still heats, your eyes still avert his saccharine gaze, and your skin still buzzes at the sound of him. you thank him in that small voice you get when you feel self-conscious, and daichi wraps you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his still-damp chest, mouth against the shell of your ear, “i’m so lucky to have you, y’know? always looking out for me.”

“daichi,” you groan, your skin burning as he kisses your cheek relentlessly, uttering little sweet nothings against your face like stardust. you wrinkle your nose and shove at him, but it has no intent. you curl your fingers around his jersey, “we look after each other, you silly goose. no need to thank me.”

daichi huffs and you look up at him, noting the wrinkle in his brow. just as you go to ask him what’s wrong, if you’ve said something that’s hurt him, his lips part, “i will never stop thanking you for being the wonderful person that you are. if i do, then i’m taking you for granted and that’s not fair.”

you know that he’s being overly dramatic, but you don’t have the heart to refute him. rather, you press your palm to his cheek and tilt your head upward to meet him halfway, a warm kiss passed from you to him. daichi’s hands seize around your waist, an anchor holding you to the grassy lawn you’ve been camped out on since early this morning. he sighs as you pull away, utterly enraptured by your graceful nature, “you deserve the whole world, darling. i just hope that what i can give you comes close enough.”

and you know that it will be. daichi was always more than enough.

⤭ bokuto always forgets his water bottle, no matter how many little notes you leave around the apartment as a reminder for him to pick it up, or how often you place it in the most easy-to-find and obvious places, he still manages to forget it entirely ⤭ even though he’s too focused on the intramural game to text you and ask you to bring it, you always show up after you’ve done your morning study routine with his huge water canister filled to the brim with ice cold h2o ⤭ after the first set, when he gets a five minute break before they start up again, bokuto spots you with that signature black water bottle hooked by the key chain attached to it’s lid looped around your finger, swaying it back and forth in midair, a little smirk-turned-smile on your pretty lips ⤭ bokuto has no bashfulness when it comes to your relationship. he loves you, is totally smitten, and wants everyone to know it. so he has no qualms with running across the green to pick you up around the waist and hoist you into the air, twirling you as he blabbers a dozen different thank you’s ⤭ he’s always so appreciative of the way you never get upset that he’s forgotten something yet again. rather, you pick up his slack, helping out where he lacks. today this trait shows by you bringing by his water bottle [and a little bento box filled with his favorite food for after the game is over]

﹢

"i left it on the front doorstep, bo,” you chastise him just before he manages to plant a kiss on your lips, effectively cutting short your admonishments. he chuckles, the sound reverberating his chest and yours, before settling you down on the ground so you can get your bearings straight before he kisses the breath out of you all over again, “yeah, but then i wouldn’t have had an excuse to come over here and kiss you.”

your whole body goes hot, from ears to toes, and you look down at his sneaker-clad feet so you don’t have to stare up into his shimmering golden irises. but bokuto, ever the steady-hand, notches his knuckle under your chin to tilt your head upward, “thank you, baby. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“dehydrate,” you deadpan, trying your hardest to keep from turning to a molten pit of lava right here on the campus green, “starve.”

“you little...” a mirthful smirk tugs on his lips and then he’s devouring you all over again, grabbing you around the waist and invading your space as he leans forward to kiss you square on the mouth.

“bokuto! time to start the next set!”

reluctantly, and with a low growl, he departs from you, raising a pale brow as he nudges your nose with his, planting one last chaste kiss to your mouth, “gonna watch the rest of the game, babe?”

you nod, smiling as he pulls away, “of course, bo. i always watch your games.”

“just checking,” bokuto pinches your hips before finally unraveling from you, “can’t wait to show you my new power serve i’ve been working on! you better watch me!”

pushing him away, you lick your lips and grin uncontrollably, his energy infectious as he bounces on his heels at the sight of you and the thought of playing another set of volleyball. you take a breath before nodding up at him, “i can’t wait to see it, kou. you’re always amazing.”

he can’t help but to kiss your cheek one last time before jogging back towards the volleyball court, his water bottle still hooked around your finger, forgotten once again.

⤭ kuroo is not forgetful of his things like jerseys, water bottles, etc. but he can lose track of time. usually he’ll have played so many games without eating that you have to interrupt him after a few games too many and only then does he realize how lightheaded he is. ⤭ you press your palms to his heated, sweaty face and force him to focus on you, reminding him that he needs to take a break every now and then. his eyes will flit around for a moment before he finally zeroes in on your features. ⤭ one of his classmates who has been taking a break on the bench tells kuroo that he’s going to sub in for him, he wants to try blocking against the other team for a while. you know it’s just the classmate trying to help you out, so you give him a small nod over kuroo’s shoulder and then turn back to your boyfriend. ⤭ you force kuroo to sit down on the grass underneath a big tree, the shade already cooling him down as he guzzles water from his bottle for a few moments without speaking. you simply sit next to him, keeping your distance because you can tell by his posture and the flush of his skin that he’s overheated, and you don’t want to contribute to his warmth by touching him with your palm to his knee. ⤭ finally, after a few minutes, he looks across at you with a genuine grin on his lips, his eyes practically lighting up at the sight of you now that he can see you in your entirety. he reaches towards you to press a palm to your cheek, tilting his head before kissing you slowly.

﹢

"you worry me, tetsu,” you whisper as he pulls away, your fingers clutching at his jersey.

kuroo kisses the tip of your nose and then your forehead, smoothing your hair away from your face before sitting back on his thighs, still towering over you even as you sit close together. his free hand drifts to your knee, drawing little swirling motions along your skin, warmed from the sunshine beating down through the sparse leaves of the tree, “i know, sweetheart. i just get lost in the game sometimes, i forget how long i’ve been playing. i promise i’ll be better.”

the same promises every time, but you know that he misses playing with nekoma. he misses being a captain. he misses the camaraderie. and who are you to tell him that he can’t have that any longer? who are you to rob him of his sidelined dreams that are played out now in the form of recreational volleyball?

instead of arguing, you purse your lips, silently asking him for another bout of affection. kuroo chuckles before obliging, rather enthusiastically, tackling you down into the grass. he loiters over you, lanky and long and bulking as always, broad shoulders down to a trim waist, knees caging you in on either side of your hips.

“thank you,” he murmurs as he pulls away, translucent lids still partially hiding his amber irises from your view, “i don’t know where i’d be without you to bring me back down to earth.”

“you’d manage,” you whisper, tracing his jawline with your thumb, “but i like to think i make your life a little easier.”

a slow blink and the gentle tilt of his head has you completely enraptured in the beauty of his eyes coupled with his smile. every time you see him, you’re completely blindsided by his mere presence, and he never ceases to amaze you, no matter how many days you spend together. your fingers slot into his hair at the nape of his neck, thumbs brushing along his throat, like this is what you were built to do, easy and smooth.

kuroo kisses your lower lip and then your top lip, paying closest attention to every part of you, “i don’t think you know how much you mean to me, baby. guess i’ll just have to remind you.”

if you two get lost in each other against the tree trunk, the sun setting and bringing about a newfound chill in the air, nobody seemed to notice. almost as if you two were in your own world, completely lost, unable to know where one of you ends and the other begin. eventually you have to go home, but for now you’re going to bask in one another’s presence.

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isadcrajade · 4 years

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💀 * [ barbie ferreira + cis female + she/her ] —— have you met isadora oliveira ? they are a twenty-one year old sophomore currently studying fashion design & merchandising. they live on keating house, and word around campus is that this aries is loyal + warm, as well as self-objectifying + obsequious. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. chocolate covered strawberries, gothic platforms, lingerie under leather jackets.

hiii bbies it’s me (gabby) finally here again to post this finalized, messy version of isa’s intro! she’s a brand new never-been-played muse of mine so it’s def bound to be a bit more scattered & less developed than ezra’s, but also much shorter? so i mean there’s a bonus lmao alright here we go:

so isadora (also known by many nicknames such as isa, izzy, iz, & dora the explora if ur trying to piss her off vgbjhksjs) was definitely not brought up in a world of prestige and recognition like the one she’s become so accustomed to in attending holloway university

growing up in the small town of lisbon, maine the only reality isa knew during her childhood was that of living as the only child of a woman who was (TW) both a compulsive liar & and compulsive hoarder. their house was floor to ceiling with things her mom collected as well as garbage built up over time- her condition had already driven isa’s father out of the house when she was just three years old, and she never had a relationship with him as a result

she was still fairly young when she realized the true severity of her own situation, just how abnormal it was compared to that of her friends. she missed out on so many rights of passage during her upbringing like birthday parties, sleepovers, etc. for much of her life her own living space / bedroom were just as bad off as the rest of the house, given her mom’s inability to keep from passing her hoarding tendencies onto her daughter. isa simply didn’t know any better at the time. to her, that was normal.

not only was her mom a compulsive liar & hoarder but she was also extremely neglectful, often leaving isa to her own devices in the dangerous environment they called home. as a result of this she (TW ED) developed harmful coping mechanisms surrounding food, regularly overeating to combat negative feelings of loneliness, and this went on from the time she was just a little girl all the way until she was in high school

high school was rough in many ways- she suffered depression, anxiety, experienced bullying at the hands of the more popular kids for her weight & her mother’s financial situation, and was all around extremely isolated from her peers- the only person she really had to depend on was her cousin (WC) . she had so much respect and envy for her cousin, they had more of a sisterly dynamic than anything, she was just so gorgeous and everything she did just seemed so effortless, to the point isa couldn’t help but idolize her and consider her a best friend.

like, remember when spongebob said he hoped that by being in squidward’s presence some of his artistic ability would rub off onto him? that was deadass isa & (WC) in high school jhbksnjs my girl was so sure if she just spent enough time with her she’d inherit some of her pretty & cool

high school was also where she reached a turning point when it came to her home environment, able to put a name to her mom’s condition after years of struggling with her strained and toxic relationship with her mom, and ultimately changed the rest of her life. she stayed the night at (WC’s) one night and after she fell asleep, isa stayed up watching TLC- it was there that she first discovered the TV show ‘hoarding: buried alive’ and realized there was a name for her mother’s infliction- but more importantly, learned that there was help available for her condition

when she went home to excitedly tell her mother that she’d basically discovered a cure, a means to change everything for them... she certainly hadn’t been expecting the reaction that came: her mom, who’d always been so indifferent toward her, so lethargic and uninterested in what she had to say, was suddenly listening very clearly- and she was not happy. isa had never heard her mom scream like that, had never really heard her express any heightened emotion, but it was in that moment at 17 years old, just a few weeks away from her 18th birthday, that she realized what she needed to do. she had no choice but to make plans to leave her mom behind.

the final weeks leading up to the big day she was counting on as a turning point consisted of her cleaning out her own space, little by little, enough that she had somewhere to set up her secondhand laptop and webcam. blowing out the candles on her 18th birthday cake came with wishing for a whole new life, and she was determined to make that for herself by any means necessary.

(TW SEX WORK) isa spent half her 18th year in her room working as a successful camgirl, showing everything but her face, & of course always being careful not to dox herself. she eventually earned enough money to start buying herself nicer clothes, but it didn’t take her long to realize she wanted more from life than just rotting away in her hometown. she bought herself a higher quality webcam to keep making money... and a nice sewing machine, something she’d always dreamed of owning.

all her life she’d been drawing and sketching as a means of escapism, it’d always been therapeutic to her to be creative and conjure up unique designs for outfits in her mind, drawing models in all shapes and sizes to represent her fantasy outfits. but she never felt like a visionary, even though anyone with an eye for fashion who got a look at her work could see that she had the natural talent and potential to be.

isa had been an a straight-A student her whole life despite having almost no support at home from her mother growing up, and with plenty of encouragement from (cousin WC), she plucked up the courage and applied for holloway university, with ivory falls being far enough from her hometown of lisbon, but still in the same state so that she could go and see her mother from time to time (bc although their relationship is quite strained now, she still loves and worries about her)

the next summer she received her acceptance letter at holloway u for the coming fall semester, and the fact that she’d been able to make it into such a prestigious school made her feel so proud of herself that she completely underwent a massive arc of character development; evolving into someone so much more confident. realizing that plenty of people found her desirable as she continued to earn money through cam shows had been part of that transformation, but realizing she was talented enough to get accepted into the fashion design and merchandising program at her dream school had a completely different effect on her.

( TW BODY IMAGE ISSUES ) isa decided that as she entered college, she was no longer going to be the meek, insecure girl constantly playing the role of the doting, loyal fat best friend to the ‘prettier main characters’ she’d always been sidekick to- she told herself that she was the main fucking character in her life from here on, and has spent her entire college experience up to this point just,, navigating as she figures out what that really means to her

still has a terrible underlying tendency to be overly-loyal and a bit obsessive with girls she closely befriends, if she has any kind of jealousy towards them. but ! is a lot more confident than she used to be, and it shows in the way she dresses and carries herself, as well as in her long-term goals (to transfer to FIDM for her final years of university)

( TW ED MENTION ) as a young adult, she’s mostly she’s replaced the compulsion to deal with her body image issues by using food to cope that she had as a teenager... by using sex to cope instead, so she’s definitely a bit promiscuous but does her best to keep that Her Own business

personality-wise she has a massive heart & is loyal to a fault but is also wild AF & loves a good time! never rly dabbled in drugs until she got to college but since then has acquired an interest in trying everything under the sun, even if it’s just one and done. mostly though she just likes to get really drunk & stupid. used to feel like she was constantly living in her cousin’s shadow, & in some ways she still does, but she’s trying hard to make herself believe that she’s reached a place where she won’t be playing second fiddle to anyone, ever again

i’m gonna shut the hell up now & stop pretending i know this character better than i do bc i deadass do not jbhnjss like she’s literally brand new so lemme go head & leave plenty of room for development!

same story as ezra i’ll have a full connections page posted for her soon but in the meantime some ideas i have are: friends, frienemies, ex friends, high school bullies, classmates, old high school friends, people she gets fuckt up with on the reg, people she hooks up with on the reg (any gender, she’s bisexual / biromantic), someone she had a crush on in high school / has pined for from afar maybe?? someone who used to watch her cam shows?? someone she almost kinda dated but Not? someone who she hooked up with while they were dating someone else?? idk that’s what i have for now but there’ll be more where that came from <3 xoxo like this or hmu !

#holloway.intro #this is a hot ass mess #but i'm rly excited to finally play her x

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themfchase · 5 years

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blindfold (6)

Jeon Jungkook x reader‒ blindfold. (m)

✎ [6+k words]

genre: smut, NSFW, college!au

warnings: light smut, dirty talk, angst

Strange things happen all the time, just like what you’re being offered by a strange tall man in a quiet coffee shop near campus. Strangers that you can’t see and only hear, and a strange boy that barely speaks but seems to be everywhere aren’t that common, on the other hand. But for some reason... You’re really keen on strange things. u. A/N: So... The end had come. First, I wanted to apologize to everyone for the very long delay, but in the end here it is. And I really hope you’ve all enjoyed blindfold just as much as I have. It’s been a wild ride for me while writing this HHAHAHAHA But I’m really glad I finished it. I’m still not satisfied with it, not going to lie, but, I guess no one is ever going to be satisfied with the ending to one of their stories. Thank you all so much for the endless support you all have given me, I couldn’t have done it without you guys and the immense love you guys had for this little series. As always, reblog, like and don’t refrain from sending me messages. Thank you so much for following blindfold so far and I’ll see you all in the next series. Love and Kisses, May. (btw, if you see some typos and errors, I’ll fix them soon.)

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. masterlist.

"Jungkook... Look at me." Your breath was loud and fast, your heart beating as if it could leap from your chest, you felt sick, you felt weak, you were scared... So, so scared. With the blindfold in your hands you watched as his shoulders lifted and fell, his back to you, both hands on the wooden table in front of him, he was just as you were. Scared. A few hours earlier. Sleeping felt impossible. There were oh so many things that a while back seemed impossible, but somehow, some crazy way, shit just started to become that... Possible. If you were being honest with yourself, there was this part of you, this... Safe part of you that wanted to just be that. Safe. Turn your back on this whole idea and go back to your normal life. But after almost the whole night reminiscing in memories, the faint feeling of being touched by him, to hear his voice again to honestly, see him, you felt sure that this is what you had to do. Now, you hadn't really thought out just how things would go, confronting him was the only thing you were sure of. You didn't know how you were going to do so, what you would say. Yet again you found yourself without a plan, something you were not fond of. You still had a few hours before the sun came up, so getting out of bed and sitting in front of your computer you did what you did best. You planned everything. And the first step to your plan was making sure there were no misunderstandings. You were already sure that Jungkook was the Stranger, but you needed proof. You stood outside the Frat House and watched as the boys came out one by one. In your red summer dress and wearing very, and I mean very obvious sunglasses you waited until Jungkook came out, but that never happened. When you spotted Namjoon, you quickly made your way to him. "Joon!" You called. His head spun around at the familiar voice calling out his name in the almost peak of the morning. "Y/N, what are you...?" He started speaking. "Good morning, sorry, this is unexpected, I just wanted to speak to you real quick." You said as you watched the boy's bloated sleep-deprived face twist in confusion. "Uhm, sure... What's up?" "Is Jungkook still asleep?" You asked. "Oh... I'm pretty sure he didn't come back to the house last night, didn't see any of his bodyguards and well, I was awake almost all night." He said and you sighed. You sighed, you just needed to get something that could prove he was the Stranger. "Listen... Is there any chance... And look, this is gonna sound weird, but I just want to... Uhm, I want to surprise Jungkook and I really need to get into his room, but I know he has like a hundred locks and I was wondering since you're the house president if you know the code?" You lied. Namjoon seemed a little bit suspicious at first, but he smiled, a sweet smile that made you confused. "You two really hit it off, huh? I'm glad, honestly, the kid needs to let out some steam." He said. You grinned, a chuckle leaving you. Little did he know just how much steam Jungkook let out on a weekly basis. Namjoon was certain to give you the code and soon, you were on your way into the frat house. As you made your way up the stairs you momentarily stood in front of Jungkook's room. There was a nervousness that you just couldn't contain inside of you. What if he was there? How would you confront him like that? He could just lie to you, say that you are delusional. You took a deep breath, put in the code and the door unlocked. As you slowly made your way in, it was empty, just the faint light from the rising sun peeking from his window. His room was... Him. It was neat and minimalist, but as you looked around you felt a sense of loneliness in everything, in the way his pencils were organized and the way he didn't have any pictures or posters... It was just as if the person who slept there would leave at any given second. And maybe... Just maybe that was your biggest fear in confronting Jungkook, having him leave and never see him again. As you looked around you sighed again, you needed to find something, you decided to open his desk drawers. There you found yourself gasping as not one but several sketches were organized inside. They weren't ordinary sketches, they were detailed drawings of you... You in the coffee shop reading a book. You in class bitting down on your pencil, and of course, there were the lewd ones. You put your hand over your mouth, cheeks heating up as you saw the detailed lines of you tied up completely bare in the hotel bed. The blindfold on, but on the same sheet, right beside that, were your eyes. Several different sketches of your eyes looking down, or looking straight to you, or... To him. You felt slightly overwhelmed, this was how Jungkook saw you, he saw you in a way that you never could have imagined. He saw you as something beautiful, something precious and you could feel that by the way he drew you. You left the sketches in the drawer and further looked for something else and soon enough you found it. The blindfold. Not just any blindfold, this was the first one, from the first day. It gave you a feeling of nostalgia, melancholy, the idea of all that just becoming a memory. You weren't in love with just the stranger, you were in love with the quiet boy, the one that shoved his hands in his pockets and that asked you invasive question, you were in love with him. And the two together made things even stronger. The second step to your plan was making sure that if things went wrong, he wouldn't be alone, that he wouldn't freak out, so you took out your phone as you made your way out of the frat house and called. "Miss Y/L/N?" The voice said on the other line. "Listen, I need to speak to you, but it has to be a secret, if you tell him, I'm going to leave and never come back do you understand me?" You threatened. "Yes." He said after a while. "Good, meet me at the cafe in twenty minutes, if he's with you, make something up." And you hung up. This part of the plan was the part you were most worried about. You knew Jungkook was a troubled guy, that he has severe anxieties and the last thing you wanted was to trigger him in any way possible. So as you waited in the cafe you fidgeted with the blindfold in your hands, looking down at the wood. Not long after, he came in and slowly made his way to the table. "Miss, Y/L/N." He said in a calm voice. You looked up to see the same man that had stopped you a while back to give you the proposition. "Call me Y/N, please, there is something serious I need to discuss with you." You said in a firm tone. "Fine, Y/N." He sighed, taking off his glasses and placing them into his pocket. "What is this about?" "Listen, Mister... Wait, what's your name." You asked. "Jin." He answered simply. "Ok, listen, Jin, I know Jungkook is your client and that you must have confidentiality terms with him and all, but... I found out, ok?" You started and watched as he adjusted himself in the chair. "I... I don't know who you're talking about, Y/N." He said. "Cut the bullshit, Jin, I'm not here to threaten him, I'm here to make sure that he's going to be ok." You said and you saw him swallow. You looked down, now fidgeting with the blindfold. "Look, you told me he was a good kid and I know he is, I feel it... I feel it so much that all I want is to be with him, but I can't do that while he's lying to me." You admitted in a defeated voice. "He's not lying to you-' Jin started to say in an outraged voice. "Fine, omitting. Whatever." You shrugged, rolling your eyes. "I'm going to confront him today." It came out less secure than you wish it had. "And I don't know how that's going to go... I don't know if he's going to want to leave and never look back, if he's going to freak out, all I'm asking of you is that you make sure he's ok, that he's safe and that he's taken care of in case that happens." Jin was silent for a few moments, looking you in the eyes while he assessed the information. Jin seemed like a good guy to you, you could see that he really cared about Jungkook and that his concern was real, not just professional. He sighed and looked down at the table. "Ok." He said simply and you felt the air you were holding leave you. "Ok." You mimicked him, a faint relief in your voice. "Don't tell him I know, don't tell him I'm going to confront him, all I want is to do this the right way, all I want is honesty, if he's honest with me, I'll be all his." You didn't know to whom exactly you were saying that, if it was to Jin or to yourself, but either way, it was the truth, you breathed out, the air coming out a little shaky. "He... He really liked you." You heard Jin's voice and your eyes traveled up, looking him in the eyes again. He seemed less formal than before, a little more relaxed, but always with that worry in his eyes. "Jungkook isn't only my boss he's my friend and all I want for him is to have a normal life with friends and a normal relationship." He finished in a low voice. You bit on your lower lip nodding in understanding, but soon, looking down at the blindfold again. "Why hasn't he told me yet?" You asked. Jin pursed his lips, a bitter chuckle leaving him. "He's scared, scared you'll think he's a freak that he's... A pervert, I don't know." He admitted trying himself to understand the boy's reasons. "Jin, I agreed to let him do things to me for money, what does that say of me?" You asked, feeling your cheeks a little red with admitting the fact. Jin shrugged, hands coming to cross in front of his chest. "I just hope this works, I thought that telling him to ask you on a date was going to fix it." He shook his head as if he couldn't understand why things went wrong. "Wait, that was you?" You frowned. Jin looked up at you, a side smile on his face. "Yeah, I've been telling him to ask you out for months." He chuckled. Your eyes bulged slightly, months? You looked back down at the table. "I'm in love with him." You said it out loud and looked at Jin again. The smile on him was genuine. As if he was looking at something endearing to him, you felt your cheeks hot. You both were cut off by the sound of Jun's phone, he looked at it for a moment and looked at you. "Is it him?" "Yeah... I should go." You pursed your lips and nodded. After you said your goodbyes, you felt your stomach turn. You were nervous, what if in the end, maybe Jungkook didn't have feelings for you, he wanted to keep things separate? But Jin had said he really liked you. You shook your head getting rid of bad thoughts and made your way back to your apartment. As the day went by, you nervously waited for the clock to hit seven. Witch each hour that went by you rehearsed everything in your head. Malia would peek through the door and sigh, she was almost just as anxious as you were. After all, she knew how much you liked him. You distracted yourself by taking a shower when the clock hit six and soon enough, it was seven. You waited by your window your stomach felt as if it was turning inside of you. When you saw the car park outside you made your way to the living room and Malie was standing there, waiting with a hopeful look on her face. "Ok weirdo, good luck." She said while she gave you a quick hug. You nodded and looked at her. "Before I go... There is something I need to say to you." You had to say something, after all, if things went bad with Jungkook, maybe at least one thing could go right. Malia had a confused look on her face but nodded. "Namjoon really, really likes you... I know you're not the type to date and all, but he's an amazing guy and he deserves good things, so... Either step up and be with him or stop breaking his heart." You said with a firm tone to your voice. You knew Malia wasn't a bad person, but she was terrified of commitment, so maybe she just needed a push. Malia swallowed and bit her lower lip, but nodded. You smiled at her and made your way out of the apartment, once again getting in the car and making your way to the hotel. You clutched your phone all the way to the hotel and looked at the driver who seemed just as impassive as ever. Just as you were the first time you had come to the hotel, you were shaking and nervous. You walked slowly into the lobby, this time you had a feeling you were being watched, but you didn't dare look around as you made your way to the receptionist. She looked up at you and she smiled when she recognized you, you smiled back, this time a little more secure than when you first came. When she gave you the key, you clutched it in your hand, making your way to the elevators. AS you got in it all started to feel a little worse, the fear of Jungkook leaving, the fear of him having a breakdown. You breathed in and out slowly, trying to control your heartbeat. When the doors opened you took in the hallway, you haven't ever noticed the way the warm light painted the walls and how the carpet was littered with Roman designs. You always knew this was a five-star hotel, but maybe just now you started to notice the small things and feel nostalgic about them. When you stopped in front of the room you waited a few seconds before you put in the card key and stepped in. Candles. Everywhere. Just like the first time, the smell was so good and relaxing that you closed your eyes and breathed them in. You never got the chance to appreciate how much effort he put in to make sure you were comfortable and now, if things didn't go well, you wanted to take it all in. You walked into the bathroom and saw the body wash a feeling of fondness taking over you, honestly, ever since you and Yoongi had broken up, you hated that smell, but Jungkook made you like it again. You looked around, the hairdryer, the towels, you gently caressed the soft fabric before walking back into the room and sitting on the bed, you caressed the fabric underneath you and looked around. You hoped that things would go well, you wanted them to go well not because of this room, but because of what it represented. It represented you feeling free for one. Being cared for (Somehow). Being able to know yourself and to meet him. You saw the blindfold on the bed and decided to put it on top of the wooden table right across from the bed but instead, taking out the first one, the one you took from his room and looking at it for a while, they were different colors, the one you put on the table was a light graffiti color and it was a plain cotton while the one in your hand was almost pitch black, but it shined with red and it was velvet. You decided to slide that one on instead and wait. It took him longer this time. Maybe it was because you didn't do your routine, maybe it was because you had already waited all day. There was a thought at the back of your head, maybe Jin had told him, maybe he wasn't coming. You tried to calm your heartbeat and your breathing, but you were more nervous than you have ever been. More than the first time you had come here, more than when he called you, or when he took you out and your senses where heightened by the sight deprivation. Your foot was bouncing nervously, you shook your head, maybe you should leave, and let things go. No. No, you couldn't, you had to stay, you wanted Jungkook, now you just needed to make sure he wanted you too. You heard a noise at the door and you held your breath. Click. The door unlocked. And then his shoes on the floor. Tap. Tap. Tap. Soon, you could smell his cologne in the air and you couldn't help but feel a series of feeling at once. Right in front of you was Jungkook. The same boy that had tutored you, that had stood up for you, that had taken you out. The same boy with that shy smile you were sure not so many people had the chance to see. The same one that... That had made you feel things you never thought you could feel, make your body do things you didn't know it was capable of. You let the air out, swallowing hard as you felt the dizziness from his smell. You felt multiple things. Nervous. Scared. Turned on. It was a natural body reacting to the whole situation. "Hello, sweetheart." It made all the hairs on your body stand up. His voice was soft, so much softer than usual. There was a tenderness to it as if he was longing to see you. You could feel it. "Hello, Sir." You answered in almost the same matter. Voice soft and tender. "I see you're still dressed." He pointed out, amusement in his voice. "Yes..." You said, slowly getting up and standing. "I'm here to talk." You said while you adjusted the blindfold on your face. He was silent for a while, maybe he noticed the blindfold, maybe he didn't. He was quiet until... "Hm..." And you gulped, his voice was the one most powerful thing. The thing that made your legs shake, your heart go wild and your body want to bend to his every will. You cursed yourself mentally for being aroused in a moment like this. "I-I'm here to tell you something." You said already feeling your courage crumble. Voice shaky. "Go on." He said simply and you took in a deep breath. His voice sounded different like there was curiosity in them, but he was insecure. "I... I met someone." You started, just like you had planned. "I met someone that... I am completely in love with." You felt a lump in your throat and heard him shift. "He's... Smart and he's funny and he's so, so very handsome. But, these are the least of things that I love about him..." You could feel tears accumulate in your closed eyes. You dropped your head. "I love that he understands me... And that he sees through me. I love how he stood up for me just because he cares about me, even if he has never told me that before. I love how he's quiet and how comfortable we both can be in silence. I love so many things about him..." You felt the lump in your throat grow bigger, you breathed in. "I love that he sees me in a way that all my insecurities and traumas make me blind to, but somehow he does." You heard him shift again. "I'm in love with him. And all I want is to be with him, all I want is for him to be able to look me in the eyes and tell me he feels the same way, but he can't." You felt tears stain the blindfold, voice cracked. "Why can't he?" His voice was strained, low, weak. As if he had already understood as if he noticed that you were talking about him and that you knew he was right in front of you. "Because... Jungkook. Because he's scared." And you lifted your hands to the blindfold slowly. "No, Y/N, don't..." He said before you pulled it off voice just a whisper, but you didn't stop, you pulled it off and you were met with the light of the room again. You couldn't catch a glimpse of him before he turned around, he was fast. Both hands on the wooden table, he was gripping it tightly looking straight at the other blindfold in front of him, you could tell his breathing was off, that he was trying to control it. You feared he could have a breakdown so you decided to speak. "And I'm scared too, I'm scared of feeling these things for you and not knowing if you'll ever... Feel the same way about me." You continued saying, now it was done, what would happen from this moment on would decide everything. "P-please, please put it back on." You heard him beg. And you furrowed your eyebrows. "No, Jungkook... I won't put it back on." You argued. "You've looked me in the eyes so many times... You told me that you felt comfortable around me." You breathed in. I'm sorry it's so hard for you, I'd switch places with you if I could, but I can't keep doing this, living like this." You felt a dull ache in your chest as you watched his shaking figure. "Now either look me in the eyes and tell me you want me too or tell me you don't." He was silent, taking the whole thing in, now that he was found out there was nowhere left to run, he could have you or he could lose you forever. "You know I want you." He said shaking his head, voice so low it was almost a whisper. You pursed your lips, swallowing. "Then tell me." You asked with a weak voice. "Look at me and tell me, please." You begged. Your heart was beating violently in your chest, it felt as if the air in the room wasn't enough to breathe. He went silent, a silence that this time felt terrible, felt terrifying. "Jungkook... Look at me." Your breath was loud and fast, your heart beating as if it could leap from your chest, you felt sick, you felt weak, you were scared... So, so scared. With the blindfold in your hands you watched as his shoulders lifted and fell, his back to you, both hands on the wooden table in front of him, he was just as you were. Scared. Just as Jin had said earlier. Slowly he leaned back from the table, you felt as the tears streamed down your cheeks, all you wanted was him to tell you. Slowly he turned around, eyes meeting yours as you could see just how scared he was. It made you want to cry harder. He stood in front of you, eyes slightly red, dark circles under them. He looked fragile, unprotected, vulnerable. You wanted to run to him and kiss him, hold him. "You're so stupid." You cursed him as you brought both hands to your face and whipped away your tears. "I'm so stupidly in love with you, with both sides of you and you... Why did you have to hide this from me?" You couldn't control your rambling, you just felt as you cried and whined at him, he looked ashamed and you shook your head, controlling yourself and finally looking at him, he looked back, no sign of looking away. "I-I love you, Jungkook." Your voice came out in a sincere whisper. "Fuck" He cursed out and right then, you thought he was going to say he didn't feel the same so you looked down. "I love you too." You looked up at him and he took a step forward closing the gap between the two of you quickly and attaching his lips to yours. You gasped as he took your face in his hands, as his body crashed into yours. He kissed you tenderly, passionately, he kissed you as if you were the most precious thing on this earth and you kissed him back, hands coming to wrap around his neck. This time you allowed your heart to beat violently in your chest, you allowed your stomach to turn and twist inside of you because this time, this time you felt like you had a good reason. Jungkook separated his mouth from yours only to look at you for a while taking in all your features, make sure this was real with his swollen lips and irregular breathing. "I'm sorry., I missed you so much." Jungkook started saying and you shook your head, lips coming to his again to shut him up. You kissed him deeply hands coming to intertwine in his hair, when you licked his lower lip he opened his mouth, allowing you to deepened the kiss even more, and with the feeling of your tongue Jungkook let out a very low and short groan that sent a wave through your body. Soon, you two fell on the bed, teeth clashing into the now desperate and needy kiss. Is was like he didn't want to let you go, too scared of losing you again and you were eager to hang on, so eager that when your dress went over your head, you attached your lips to his without even breathing and he took off his shirt while gently and sweetly kissing down your neck. It was different this time, it wasn't lust... No, it was a lot more. Slowly you two made your way up the bed, kissing each other tenderly, soft whimpers leaving your lips when he'd roam his hand around your body. This rough fingers that worked so delicately on you, you learned that you were highly addicted to it. Jungkook broke the kiss to look at you again and when he saw your swollen lips, flushed cheeks and a caring look in your eyes he was overwhelmed by just how stupid he was before, shaking his head. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm so, so, sorry, I shouldn't..." He started. And you shook your head again, hands coming to caress his face. "It's ok, we're ok." You said in a soft voice. "I'm yours." And you saw the shine in his eyes when you said it. He was quiet for a few seconds and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're mine..." He whispered back, lips coming to caress yours gently as he slowly rid you of your underwear, you arched your body, helping him. You knew what was going to happen, it was something you've wanted for a long time, ever since you first got into this room and you remembered what Jungkook had said about intimacy and suddenly you understood a lot. You wanted nothing more than to be intimate with Jungkook, but on another level, not just physically, you wanted to be able to hold his hand for everyone to see, kiss him in the stupid supermarket while you both chose cheap bland hoodies. You wanted Jungkook and you were going to give him all of you in return. Jungkook gently kissed down your neck, soft pecks, and love bites, the air was filled with the sound of your soft whimpers and his fingers caressed every inch of your body as he made his way down, slowly he hovered over your center, lips coming gently to kiss at your pubic mound. When he licked up your core you arched your back, eyes shutting and a moan leaving your lips. It was one thing to feel him, but to watch him? It was another thing completely, you felt just how sensitive watching Jungkook eat you out made you, just how fast it was making you approach your orgasm while he gently sucked on your clit, savoring your taste just like he probably did the other times only this time, he was doing it for his own pleasure as well. "J-Jungkook." You called his name in a whispered moan and his eyes flickered up to you, dark and blown out, they were divine. "I-I don't want to c-cum so f-fast, please." You begged in a weak voice. Jungkook planted small kisses to your core before pulling away and coming up to your lips again where he let you taste yourself on his tongue. There was a proud smile on his lips, maybe because he had you now, or maybe, just maybe because he knew he could make you cum with a snap of his fingers. "Can you taste how sweet you are?" He questioned with a low hint of hunger to his voice. You nodded, lips coming up to his as he gently closed his eyes and shoved his own pants down and kicked them to the floor, his kisses gently went to your jaw and then your neck, he was being rougher now, already taken over by lust and the desire to finally be with you the way you wanted. When you felt his erection sprung free you looked down, mouth slightly watering and core clenching over nothing. You wanted nothing more than to taste him too, to make him feel good and he seemed to notice your eagerness. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll have all the time in the world for that, right now, I just really want to fuck you the way I should have a long time ago." He said in a low husky voice that had you whimpering. Jungkook slowly aligned himself with your entrance, hands coming up to wrap with yours as his forehead rested on your own. "Hey, look at me." He asked as you looked down where your bodies would soon connect. You flickered your eyes to him, already squirming as you felt the tip already breach you slightly. "I want to look you in the eyes while I fuck you, I want you to see just what you do to me, just how crazy you drive me, just how much I want you, love you, do you understand?" He gently inched himself in a little more, your mouth opened and a moan left it, your walls were already clenching around his tip and you could feel your wetness leak from you. "Answer me, sweetheart." He demanded in a stern, yet velvet voice. "Y-yes, Sir, yes, I-I understand." You stuttered while you tried to answer him. "No... Not Sir, my name, say my name." He requested and you could barely think straight. "Yes, Jungkook, y-yes, yes." You whispered. "Such a good girl for me." He cooed and you clenched even harder. When Jungkook breached your walls you couldn't hold back the moan that ripped through your throat, you squeezed his hands tight, your walls clenching violently around him. You felt so full, so good, having Jungkook inside of you was even better than you had imagined. "F-fuck, don't squeeze so tight." His voice was strained in pleasure, face contorted in it too. His breathing shallow and you felt him twitch. "So fucking tight, what a delicious fucking cunt." He whispered to himself and the dirty manner in which he spoke made you clench even harder. "Jungkook..." You whined his name and he stared straight into your lust drowning eyes. "P-please move, p-please." You begged. "Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want." He said trying to control his own voice. When he pulled out and ground back into you, another moan ripped out of you, he was filling you out perfectly, it was as if your bodies were made for each other. You heard the groan coming from his lips, his eyes still staring into your own, but now they were only slits, hazy eyes while he gently started a grinding pace in and out of you. He let go of one of your hands and came to cup your face, lips crashing into yours. This was different, it was intimate, it was slow and sensual, it was love and lust. He separated your mouth's yet again to whisper. "You're so beautiful." He said and you bit your lower lip, cheeks flushed with pleasure and the way he called you beautiful. "I love you." You whispered back. It didn't take long for Jungkook's grinding to become rougher, his cock hitting your sweet spot again and again while his body rubbed and grinded into you. Soon, it was gasp's and moans and whimpers all around the room, your body sweating and sensitive, it didn't take long for you to feel the familiar trace of your orgasm approaching you and when you clenched hard and opened your mouth, Jungkook's cock twitched. "Close already, baby?" He asked and you didn't answer, instead, you let the feeling of it slowly creep onto you. "That's it, sweetheart, cum all over my cock, let me watch you cumming for me you always look so beautiful when you cum." He instructed. And soon you were squirming and moaning and shaking under Jungkook, clenching violently around his length eyes focused on his while he had a tight grip on your chin. "Look at me while you cum." He said. "Jesus fuck, you're so beautiful I might cum just by watching you." As he rode out your orgasm he slowed down, lips coming to your to kiss you gently while he slowly moved his hips in and out of you, so slowly it was almost painful. You finally closed your eyes. Feeling his body move on top of yours it was overwhelming, it was everything you ever wanted. You heard him groan and his pace slowly got faster, he was close and you wanted nothing more than to give him the pleasure he had given you up until now, slowly, you started moving your hips to meed his, grinding up onto him. "Oh, God..." He said in a shaky strained voice. "You feel so-so good." He praised. Jungkook's grip on your hand tightened and soon, his hips halted deep inside of you and you felt him coat your insides with his release, a low and sensual groan leaving him as his face read nothing but pure pleasure and bliss. It was beautiful, it was heavingly, watching Jungkook feel good because of you made you feel proud and affectionate, you lifted your head, lips coming to gently kiss him and he kissed you back, breathe irregular on your lips. When you both calmed down, Jungkook pulled out gently, laying beside you and closing his eyes. You had a stupid smile on your face and you felt tired, he turned his head to you and you did the same, looking at him. There it was, the look that you so desperately wanted to see, the look that said: "I love you." Gently, Jungkook took your hand, locking his fingers between yours and bringing it up to his lips, leaving a sweet kiss on them. "When did you notice?" He asked after you two were silent for a while, he looked at your fingers, playing with them. "Sweetheart." You said simply with a smile on your lips. Jungkook looked up at you. "You called me sweetheart and it's something only... The Stranger called me." You said. "The Stranger? Is that what you called me?" He asked and you nodded feeling slightly embarrassed. "I should have known, I always called you that and I guess it came out naturally, but I'm dense." He admitted with a chuckle. "Yeah, well, so am I, I thought I was in love with two people but it was actually just one." You said and Jungkook smiled at you. "You're in love with me." He said as if it was something he still needed to wrap his head around. You nodded. "Yeah, and I have been for a while now... Jin told me that he told you to ask me out months ago." You said without thinking. Jungkook's eyes slightly bulged and you sat up. "Hey, he didn't know, I asked to meet him and kind of... Threatened him so he had to go. And I already knew so, he was just trying to help." Jungkook shook his head and chuckled. "I'll deal with him later." He said and you glared at him making him laugh. "So... Months ago?" You asked and he looked at you again in silence before he sat up and pressed his lips gently against yours. You closed your eyes, kissing him back and he pulled away. "I love you." He said and you felt your cheeks blush. "I love you too... But, I'm not letting you off the hook, tell me." You asked and he smiled, looking you in the eyes with no fear, no insecurities, just love, and comfort... Love and intimacy. "The first time I saw you..." The end.

#blindfold6 #blindfoldfic #smu #btssmut #mature #fanfic #imagine #jungkook #jk #jeon #oc #jungkook x reader #btssmutclub #finale #smutcentralnet

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writinggolden · 4 years

Text

Not a date

prompt: Art College Harry!! Harry helps you on an art project and begins to flirt with you in order to get a rise out of you. One thing leads to another and he can’t help but get sucked into your sweet innocent charm.

warnings: fluff, art harry, makeouts, frisky, cussing

It was a Friday night, and your friends decided to drag you to a party at one of the frat houses. It was a party for the start of your junior year of college. They put you in a tight skirt and crop top, which was way too revealing for you. You were a very shy and quiet person and rarely went to things like this ever. You walked into the party, music blasting, and you headed straight for the kitchen to get a drink.

You sip slowly on your drink, eyes scanning across the room. Until a cold drink splashes down your back, a gasp leaving your lips. You whip around to see a handsome brunette, his attractiveness almost making you more frustrated. The mystery guy mumbles, “Woah sorry love,” he places his hand on your hip. You push him off, “don’t touch me jackass”. You stomped out of the house and called an Uber. Once you got home you took off your soaked dress and hung it up in the shower. You instantly fell asleep on your bed and dreamt of his stupid eyes.

It was quickly Saturday and you were still exhausted from the night before. You had to get ready for work so you put on vans, leggings, and a sweater. You work in a record shop that’s near campus so you didn’t really have to dress up. You got to work and parked your car behind the store. You came in and started working on the D artist collections of records until you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Excuse me do you know where I can find the Fleetwood Mac rumors record,” you turn around to see that guy from the party that spilt a drink you.

You mentally groaned, “it’s over there,” you pointed to the box two rows from you. He grabs the record, “Wait aren’t you the girl I spilt drinks on at the party?”. You sigh and grab a box of cds and walk away. “Hey hey,” he grabs your arm and pulls you back, “I’m sorry about the party I was drunk and it was an accident.” You sigh, “it’s fine”. You walk behind the counter and pull up his record.

You tell him the cost and he gives you money, after a second you hand him the receipt. “I’ll see ya later...” he looks at your name tag, “Y/n”. You roll your eyes as he winks and walks out, but also can’t help but blush. It was finally Monday and you had your first class today which was art in room 132. You walked into the class and sat in the back, hoping to be isolated from people. Your teacher got up and started to introduce himself until the door swung open. Your eyes widened as you realized it was the same guy from the party.

His eyes scan the class and he smirks when he sees you. He walks straight towards you and takes a seat next to you. Your teacher starts to speak, “Hello students, today your first assignment is to get a partner and draw, paint, whatever of him or her”. You sigh, you never got picked by people for these things since you’ve always been shy. The guy from the party raises his hand and gets the proffesers attention, “Yes Harry?”. Even his name was hot, “Will this be a in class assignment?” harry asks. “No it will be outside of school,” Harry nods and shifts in his seat.

You listen to the teacher talk about oil pastels until you feel a squeeze on your thigh. You squeak and look over to see Harry looking at you. Your cheeks blush from embarrassment at the noise you just made. “Do you wanna be partners?” Harry asks. You blush, “Uhh sure,” he smirks and turns back to the proffeser. You and your other classmates get up to go get pastels until you feel a tug on your arm. You turn around to see Harry, “Wanna maybe start after class? We can go to my place and i was thinking of sketching you” you agree silently.

“I’ll paint you,” you shrug. He grins, “It’s a date,” you quickly reply, “it’s not a date” and walk down the stairs. Harrys smirk never leaves his face and his eyes never leaves your ass. Class was finally over and you followed Harry out of the classroom to his car. You open the door and get in, placing your bag on the ground. He starts the car and radio and pulls out of the parking lot.

The drive is silent and your leg stayed slightly bouncing. You had finally pulled up to a brick apartment, and Harry gets out of the car. You open the door and follow right after him. He unlocks the door and you walk in behind him. “You can leave your stuff right there,” he points to the kitchen counter. You mumble a thank you and place your bag down. “So I have my drawing supplies and paints here now so you can pick whatever,” he opens a case and shows you his paints.

You grab the things you need and walk over to a set up canvas in his art room. You turn to him, “Can I paint you first?”. He nods and sits down on a seat infront of you. He sits silently as you start to sketch the beginnings of the painting. You walk over to him and he stares at you making you blush. “U-Um is it okay if I move your face around a little?” you ask sweetly. “Yes love,” he smirks as your grab his chin and tilt his face. He stares at you at you move around his hand on his lap, getting the right pose. You look up in your crouched position and make eye contact with him.

Your noses were almost touching and you couldn’t help but blush at the eye contact. You quickly stuttered a sorry and stood up. You walk back to your paints and start to draw his body and start painting. Your tongue sticks out a little as your brush paints over the canvas. You can feel his eyes staring at you but you don’t say anything. About an hour later he sat on his phone as you kept painting silently. You had finally finished and wiped your forehead.

You hear a snort from him and you look up, “What?”. He giggles again, “Harryyy what?” you ask again. He walks over and places his hand on your cheek. “You have paint right...” he wipes next to your lips, “there love”. You blush and see his eyes staring at your lips. You nervously lick over them which gets something out of him, “fuck”. He quickly presses his lips to yours and pulls your face closer. You squeal into the kiss and push back, hard. He licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth for his tongue.

He warm tongue slides into your mouth and you moan at the feeling. Your hands in his hair whilst one of his is on your cheek and the other on your waist. You finally detach from the hot kiss and your foreheads are pushed together. “Did I tell you you’re beautiful yet,” he blurts out. Your cheeks redden and you shake your head. “Well you are love,” he leans down and presses another wet kiss on your lips, leaving you in a daze. You check the time, it was 10, “Oh shit H I have to go,” you grab your things and Harry blushes at the nickname. You open the door and stop for a second. You turn back and run up to him and kiss his cheek. “See you tomorrow,” and you run out the front door.

It was Tuesday and you had another art class today. You showed up on time to see Harry in his seat. You smile and walk up and scoot past him and take a seat. “Hi love,” you smile, “Hi Harry”. He grins, “so do you want to come over again today so I can do my sketch?” Harry asks hopingly. You nod making him sigh in relief. His hand layed lonely on his thigh, and yet so did yours. Your hands slowly slid together and intertwined. Your cheeks were tinted and you couldn’t help but bite your lip to hold back your smile. You couldn’t help but realize he wasn’t being like the douche Harry he was when you first met him. Little did you know you were making him soft.

Class was over and it was the same routine. You hopped into his car, hands being held again, and drove to his place. You ran through the door once it was open and jumped onto the couch in his studio, giggling at the soft impact. He walks over and grins at the sight of you. You giggle and look up at him, your breathing finally slowing down. He walks over and leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. You hum into the kiss, and pull him closer by his hair. He slowly moved on top of you, resting between your legs.

The kisses increased and your legs wrapped around his waist squeezed for friction. He stopped the kiss and quickly grabbed his sketch book. “Do not move,” he demands. You giggle at him and lay still. You stare at him lovingly as he draws you. You couldn’t help but think about what had just happened. A few minutes go by, “okay I’m done” Harry announces. You smile as he walks over to you. He smirks, “You’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past half an hour - time to show me what, exactly, was on your mind”. You giggle as he lays on you again, but you quickly flip him over so you’re on top.

You straddle his waist and place your hands on his chest. You can’t help but stare down at him, his beauty was captivating. “Keep biting your lip like that, I dare you,” you hadn’t even realized you were biting your lip. So you just giggled and hid your face in his neck, his hands placed firmly on your butt. You grab his hand and intertwine them, “I love watching you draw, I just love your hands,” you admit. “Well maybe I should put them to good use”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

loved this theme! hoped y’all liked it ❤️

#cute writing prompts #harry concept #concepts #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harrystylessmut #fanfiction #x reader

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Hell hath no fury like a teenager scorned...

It's a long story, spans years of time. ~~~Cue hazy flashback to 1997/8~~~

Growing up, my family ran a business dealing with water and wastewater pumps. By the time I was in high school, I worked for them outside of school as needed, and I'd grown up around the industry. At the time of this story I was 16, maybe 17. I got a few funny looks out in the field sometimes, but normally wasn't a problem, this time, it was.

Many sales they make do are bids. You go to the builders exchange, which is basically a library for plans and blueprints. You pull the plans, get to the part applicable to you, and see what they want or need. Then you submit a price you think will win you the job.

Many times the plans will actually specify a model that meets their needs, in which case you bid that or a comparable one. Other times, they will give specifications and selection and matching is up to you, going through books and software for curves (chart that shows how it flows under load).

This time was the former. The job is a retrofit/expansion on the city plant. The engineer had specified a model of pump he wanted, and I'd matched it's specs. Put in a submittal for approval on the substitution as required. It gets approved and we are cleared to enter a bid.

We proceed forward putting together the bid. At one point, I have the plans in front of me and I'm looking at the drawings. I don't like what I'm seeing, which is a lot of pipe and a lot of distance. I check and recheck and come up with the same result. The total head (head is how far you're pumping, calculated by distance and including losses from the pipe) is too much for the pump that was specified, way too much. This puts the pump way outside it's curve, it's going to be deep into overload.

I used my corrected numbers and found a proper match, but not only was it significantly more expensive, but physically different, would require large revisions. So I put together a revised submittal with the numbers I ran, and the recommended pump. It included the math from the drawings and the curves. Faxed it over to the engineers office, then I called him.

It did not go well. Not only did he not listen to me, he was more than happy to lecture me. How dare I, a kid, tell him how to do his job. No, he would not accept any revisions or resubmittals, I had no idea what I was talking about and I, personally, was no longer to have contact on this project. He did not use nice words.

This couldn't stand, it was going to cause serious problems down the line. So I did the only thing I could think of, I found the contact for city planning and told him. Made it about three minutes into trying to explain who I was and why I was calling before he cut me off and told me to refer to Engineer and not to contact him again. Tried again for someone else later, did not make it past receptionist.

As. You. Wish.

I took the revised submittal and filed it in the back of the job file and moved on. (I wasn't needed for the rest and I had other things to do, plus school)

Fast forward almost two years, now going to college, still working for my folks as needed. Construction complete, get called in for startup. Goes smoothly as it should, and the countdown to destruction begins.

I think the first one went after about three months? Only made it that long because those pumps are very well built. Emergency ship in a replacement. Second one a week or three after, then another, and another, then the replacements start failing. The whole time, these are being invoiced including emergency shipping, and having to run out to start them up every time. They have no choice, THIS is the model the pads were cast for and the piping run for. You can't directly substitute something else, like, say, the correct pumps.

Then it gets really fun. They start returning the burnt out units for warranty.

The factory starts receiving these and tearing them down for failure analysis. I told our rep straight up that they were being run way outside their design point knowingly, he was not amused. Warranty is denied and they are billed for the diagnostic time and shipping. Manufacturer was in Germany by the way (shout out to the fine folks at KSB, love ya). These units are neither small, nor light. Plus these are being shipped as emergency orders. It's not cheap.

Warranties officially denied to the buyer. We tell them in no uncertain terms that this isn't a problem with the units. (this is now almost a year after the plant was due to come online)

Now the shit has really hit the fan. City council gets involved, because this is a municipal plant. Lawsuits are threatened, and a council meeting is scheduled to discuss further action.

I marked the day, and arranged with my teachers to take a few days off (didn't live close to home). Drove 3 1/2 hours to see my parents, and, to visit their filing cabinet. Right where I left it. Out came the revised submittal, and a quick trip to Kinkos (local copy shop) provided some wonderful blown up posters of said submittal as well as the proofs behind it.

The next day, I drove another 2 1/2 hours up to said City, had a lovely meatball sandwich at a restaurant right across the street from the council building and showed up to the council meeting. I even dressed up nice for the occasion.

I didn't say anything to anyone, just sat in the back in my chair with my rolled up posters next to me and waited. Took about forty minutes.

The council finally brings up the plant. Guess who comes up to testify in front of the council? It's Engineer.

He goes on for about ten minutes talking shit about our company and how we are denying the warranties. Basically states that the problem is due to the substitution and that our pumps were substandard.

This is a loss now counted in the millions between the downtime and replacement costs and rejected warranties, labor etc. Council swallows his bullshit hook, line and sinker. He sits down and the council starts discussing among themselves. This is my cue.

I stand up, approach the podium, and wait for them to notice me, doesn't take long as I'm a teenager in a city council meeting. I introduce myself and unroll the posters.

Me: Hi! I'm Crispy Silicon from Goingtoruinyourfuckingday! Before you proceed any further, you should probably have a look at this, which is the revised submittal I sent to Engineer prior to the initial bid. You'll note the date. Also attached you'll find the supporting calculations, relevant drawings from the original plans, and the recommendation of a larger suitable unit. You'll also see the fax acknowledgement sheet, showing it was received by his office.

Me: Immediately after sending that, I contacted Engineer directly and advised him of these issues. He declined, I was told outright to keep my nose out of things I didn't understand and to leave engineering to the adults. He was well aware the units would self destruct if run at this point.

Me: After that I called your planner, who refused to listen, and referred me back to Engineer.

Me: If you'd like, I'd be more than willing to contact our phone provider, so they can verify that fax and those calls were placed?

I'm grinning like the Cheshire Cat at this point and I'm not holding back the evil one bit. I'm sure I looked like a psychopath, couldn't help it, also didn't care.

Dead. Fucking. Silence.

Me: So yeah, the warranties are void as all of the units were operated well beyond their design point. I still stand by the revised submittal, so feel free to call when you're ready. I'll leave these here.

Still completely silent. The entire council looks like I just dropped my pants and mooned them. Then after a few seconds, one of the ladies on the council gave me a "Thank you Mr. Silicon. You can go."

I left my posters on the podium, turned and walked, made full eye contact with Engineer as long as I could with that same grin. He looked like he was probably going to vomit, didn't stick around to check.

Stopped by to give my folks a hug on the way back to school and that was the end of my involvement.

No idea what happened to Engineer or Planner, but the City paid every invoice in full without another peep. They had continue to purchase replacement after replacement to limp it along while simultaneously trying to re-refit the plant. They finally got it fixed after about another year, but by that time, I can't even imagine how far over the projected estimate they were.

(source) story by (/u/crispysilicon)

#prorevenge #by /u/crispysilicon #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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omgjasminesimone · 5 years

Text

The Hot Exchange Student Part 3

Logan x MC (Ellie)

Previous Part: Part 2

Next Part: Part 4

Author’s Note: This is longer than usual, and I didn’t get as far as I originally wanted to. Hopefully you guys like the longer length! One last RoDAW entry!

Summary: Logan is an exchange student from Detroit a month into his exchange program in L.A. Tensions rise with his detective host father as Logan becomes involved in L.A.’s criminal underbelly, while simultaneously becoming romantically involved with the detective’s daughter.

Word Count: ~4000

For a few moments no one speaks, a silent showdown. Mr. Wheeler is looking at his daughter with his ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ face, but when his stare turns to Logan sitting beside her, his face reads, ‘I’m both mad and disappointed’.

“Where were you guys?” Detective Wheeler finally asks.

“A car show.” Ellie answers.

“I was unaware they had car shows at 11:00 PM on Saturday nights. Did you mean an illegal sideshow?” Detective Wheeler prompts.

Ellie sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Yes.”

Detective Wheeler nods. “Despite the fact that you guys are grounded, and you’re only supposed to leave the house for school or if you’re studying.”

Ellie deflates further. “…Yes.” She answers when her father looks like he’s waiting for a response.

Detective Wheeler turns his gaze to Logan, who is sitting beside Ellie defiantly, not looking remorseful in the least. “Anything you want to say Logan?” Detective Wheeler asks, narrowed eyes informing Logan that he’s looking for an apology.

He doesn’t get one. “Just that the three week grounding for missing a 10:00 curfew seemed a little excessive to me. Ellie is a good person. You can loosen the leash a little bit.”

Ellie winces at that response. Her dad is going to explode.

The cold, calm anger Detective Wheeler speaks with next is more terrifying than the rare occasions when he’s yelled at her. “You’ve been very disrespectful since you got here Logan. We’ve had several conversations about it, and your behavior has not changed. I think you’re a bad influence on Ellie, and I really don’t like that. If you’re going to live under my roof, you’re going to follow my rules. Otherwise, you can leave my house and go back to Detroit early. Are we clear?”

This is the first time Detective Wheeler has actually threatened to kick Logan out of the house. Logan’s jaw clenches as he fights his desire to retort. He chances a quick look at Ellie before he nods. “Crystal.”

“Good. I also want to speak to your parents about your behavior.” Detective Wheeler adds, leaning back in his recliner.

Logan hesitates, taking a breath before he finally speaks. “I can give you my current foster father’s phone number if you really want it, but I can promise you he’s not going to care. And most of the time his phone doesn’t work because he spends his whole social security check on beer before paying the bill.” Logan reveals.

Foster care. That explains a lot. The lack of belongings. His aversion to parental authority. His ‘situation’ in Detroit. Ellie feels bad for him, but she tries to fight down that feeling. She knows Logan well enough to know that he doesn’t want her pity. That’s probably why he never told her.

“I’d still like his number.” Detective Wheeler says, pulling out his address book while Logan goes through his phone to pull up his contacts. Logan recites the number, and Detective Wheeler writes it down. “I’ll call him tomorrow since it’s so late, even later Central time. You guys should get to bed too.”

Ellie looks at her dad suspiciously. That’s it? Ellie starts to get up, but then her father speaks again.

“By the way, you guys are grounded for another 3 weeks. And this time, I mean it.”

…

Ellie’s phone pings as she and Logan watch a movie on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder. She sits up to grab it from the coffee table. It’s a text from her dad.

Dad: Peace signs by the refrigerator.

“Logan, peace signs by the refrigerator.” Ellie reports, standing up and heading towards the kitchen. Logan follows behind her, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“This is so stupid.” He complains as they pose for the selfie. Ellie sees he’s flipping a bird in her camera screen as she prepares to take the photo.

“Logan.” She admonishes, so he lifts his index finger as well to make the peace sign her father has requested.

To enforce his grounding when he’s away at work, Ellie’s father requests specific poses somewhere in the house. That way, he knows they’re home like they’re supposed to be. This is their last day of grounding, but it hasn’t been all bad.

Ellie has gotten a lot of studying done over the three weeks, and more importantly, she’s had a lot of quality time to spend with Logan. He’s more open with her now, since he’s not trying to hide his background anymore.

Logan told her that he was born in prison. That he doesn’t know who his father is. That his mom is still in jail for all he knows, they’ve never had any contact.

He told her about his current foster father, an alcoholic with 6 foster kids in a small three bedroom trailer. Logan shares a small bedroom with a 15 year old foster brother, who Logan simply describes as ‘troubled’. Despite this, he tells her it’s actually one of his better placements.

That’s why when his high school counselor told him about the opportunity for a full ride scholarship for the exchange program, he jumped on it.

(“She’s straight out of college. So she’s not jaded yet, she still cares.” Logan scoffs, drawing skulls on the toes of his chucks as they hang out on the porch. “That won’t last long.”)

Another reason why the grounding hasn’t been all bad is because they’ve found creative ways to work around it. Ellie and Logan signed up for an after school SAT prep class, and Logan convinced her to lie to her father about what time it ends, giving them 2 hours of free time each day after school. Well, Logan has 4 hours of free time because he doesn’t actually go to the class. She’s not sure exactly what he’s doing, he’s very vague about it when she asks.

Ellie feels bad about lying, she didn’t habitually lie to her father before Logan got here, but she does enjoy those 2 hours with Logan. Sometimes, they go to the beach. Or that diner she loves with Riya and Darius. But usually, that time is dedicated to driving practice. Ellie really want to pass her license test.

Since they’re already in the kitchen, Ellie pops another bag of popcorn before they return to the couch. “Do you feel ready for your driving test tomorrow?” Logan asks, watching her instead of the cheesy horror movie.

“I think I am.” She smiles up at him. “You’ve taught me well.”

Hmm, what to wear. Ellie is looking for an outfit that says, hey, this girl is a competent driver who totally deserves a license. She settles on a denim skirt and a white shirt that hangs off her shoulders. She’s putting her long hair into her usual braid when Logan knocks.

“Hey troublemaker. Change of plans. I’m sorry, but I can’t take you to your test. Something important came up.” He takes in her outfit. “Wow, you look great.”

She’s too annoyed with him to be flustered at the compliment. “What do you mean you can’t take me? I can’t ask my dad and rescheduling with the DMV would be an absolute nightmare.”

“You can take the car, just drive yourself.” Logan underhand tosses her the keys.

She catches them with both hands, “But, I don’t have my license! It’s illegal for me to drive by myself.”

“Just don’t get pulled over on the way there and you’ll be fine. You’re definitely going to pass. Come here, good luck hug, not that you need it.”

She wants to ask him what he’s doing that’s so important, but she doubts he would tell her. So she just walks over and hugs him. He smells really good. Like, vanilla-y? She tightens her grip around his muscled chest, burying her face into his shirt.

“Text me when you’ve passed.” Logan says as he pulls away after one last squeeze.

She is even more of a stickler for the rules than she usually is as she drives to the DMV, cars behind her getting annoyed with her since she’s actually under the speed limit. But she doesn’t get pulled over, and when she finishes her test the instructor says she’s the best beginner he’s ever seen. She’s passed.

Ellie smiles for her new license photo, and once it’s printed she takes a photo of the freshly minted license and texts it to Logan. He replies right away.

Logan: congrats!!

Logan: knew u could do it troublemaker

Ellie: Thank you! I’m very excited, if you couldn’t tell from the big cheesy grin on my license photo. :D

Ellie: Where are you? I can come pick you up, we can get a celebratory late lunch/early dinner.

The three dots indicating that Logan is typing starts, stops, and then starts again as he probably writes and deletes a message.

Logan: I’m actually at a drive-in movie theater

Logan: come meet me troublemaker 😉

His next text includes an address on Rosecrans. Ellie plugs it into her phone and takes her first licensed solo drive.

Ellie wanders the parking lot on foot. Logan told her to park on the street (they charge by car), and that she’s looking for a white van. But there are a lot of cars here. She looks around helplessly, pulling out her phone to text Logan again.

“You lost, sweetheart?”

Ellie turns to see who would use sweetheart in such a condescending manner. She’s met with a boy who looks to be around her age, dark hair, even darker eyes, dressed in a leather jacket and carrying a tub of popcorn. He seems familiar for some reason.

“Maybe a little lost. Logan’s directions were a little vague.” She admits.

“Aah, you must be Ellie. Logan said you were coming.” He looks her up and down. “What is a girl like you doing hanging out with a lowlife like Logan?” Before Ellie can say anything in Logan’s defense, the boy walks off. Ellie assumes she should follow him.

He stops in front of an old white cargo van, opening the sliding door. Inside there’s Logan, a man with long hair, prominent neck tattoos, and glasses, an extremely tall woman, and another woman with long black hair and a piercing gaze all resting on bean bag chairs in the back.

“Hey Ellie, you made it.” Logan says, taking her hand to help her into the van. “Ellie, this is Toby, Ximena, Mona, and Colt.”

Toby and Ximena both give her a welcoming smile, while Mona just looks at her appraisingly. “Take a seat Ellie! Or you’re going to miss the best part!” Toby warns, eyes returning to the screen.

Ellie squeezes onto Logan’s bean bag chair, leg flush against his. “How’d you meet your friends?” She asks Logan softly.

“I wouldn’t say they’re my friends. Just coworkers I get along with. Well, I don’t always get along with Colt. But he’s just visiting Kaneko over his Fall Break.” Logan answers.

Ahh, so that’s why Colt looked familiar, he’s Kaneko’s son. Ellie’s brow furrows as she goes over the rest of his statement. “Coworkers? You have a job?”

His eyes widen slightly at his slip up. He gives her a measured glance, as if he’s deciding how much he should tell her. “I’m doing some work for Kaneko.”

Ellie’s blood runs cold, remembering how everyone feared Kaneko. Knowing that whatever work Kaneko is offering is probably criminal. What has Logan gotten himself into? “What kind of work?” She presses.

“Shh you two! Blown Gasket is playing!” Toby chastises, looking at the screen raptly during a car chase scene.

Ellie shuts up, but not before giving Logan a look that clearly says the discussion isn’t over.

Colt scoffs at Toby’s enthusiasm. “Calm down Toby. You’ve only seen this stupid movie fifty times.”

“No one forced you to come Kaneko Jr.” Mona retorts, not even bothering to turn away from the screen to look at Colt.

“My dad wanted everyone out of the garage while he does whatever he’s doing, especially me.” Colt replies.

Logan leans over slightly to whisper in Ellie’s ear, not wanting Toby’s wrath. “Does your dad know where we are?”

“I just told him we’re out with friends. We’re not grounded anymore, so he was fine with it.” Ellie whispers back.

Half an hour later, Ellie finishes the last of the popcorn in the extra large tub. She starts to put the empty tub down on the floor, when Ximena interjects. “Nuh uh sweetie. Whoever finishes it gets the next refill.”

Toby gives Ellie a $100 bill. “Does anyone have anything smaller?” Ellie asks, standing from the bean bag chair and heading for the door.

“Nope.” Mona responds, opening the door for Ellie.

Ellie is walking across the lot towards the concession stand when suddenly someone steps in front of her, blocking her path. Ellie looks up and is met with Salazar’s smirking face. “I can’t believe it, real nice of you to join us.” Salazar sneers.

“Salazar…” Ellie mumbles, dropping the popcorn bucket and turning around to head back to the van when Salazar steps towards her menacingly. Ellie’s escape path is cut off by the same four goons who had accompanied Salazar when he lost the race.

“I heard the Mercy Park Crew was hanging around here, came to see for myself.” He spits out when he reaches her. Mercy Park Crew? Ellie has no idea what he’s talking about. “Your boyfriend owes me money for what he did, lots of it.”

“You lost the race. You both agreed on the terms.” Ellie mutters weakly, looking around for a possible escape but finding nothing.

“I don’t remember him stealing the opportunity I had with Kaneko being one of the terms. I worked hard to build respect in the streets, to make a name for myself, and now some punk kid shows up and gets everything handed to him? That’s bullshit.” He turns to the biggest goon. “Grab her. He’ll pay to get her back.”

“No!” Ellie tries to fight off the heavily tattooed man gripping her arm roughly, but he’s twice her size so she doesn’t stand a chance.

“Get away from her. You got a problem with me, you leave her out of it.” Logan’s voice has a dangerous edge to it that Ellie has never heard before. The goon looks to Salazar, waiting for a small nod, before releasing her.

Ellie quickly retreats to Logan’s side, and he gently pushes her behind him. Salazar smirks, eyeing Logan venomously. “Now it’s a party.”

The goons close in, encircling Logan. Logan clenches his fists, gearing up for a fight.

“No, Logan! You can’t fight them five on one. We need to run.” Ellie reasons.

He briefly turns to look at her, his gaze hard. “You need to run. Now.” He swings his fist at the nearest goon, rocking his jaw.

That goon goes down, clutching his jaw, but one of the others cries “Get him!”, and the remaining goons and Salazar attack all at once. Ellie doesn’t run as instructed, instead she looks on worriedly as Logan fights like an animal, punching, grappling, slamming.

Her heart hurts a little as she wonders where he learned to fight like this. Was it a particularly abusive group home? Out on the streets of Detroit? He holds his own for a while, but eventually he can’t fend them all off and they get him down to the ground.

“You piece of shit.” Salazar sneers, kicking Logan hard in the ribs, again, and again. Ellie can’t take anymore, so she grabs a forgotten pipe on the asphalt as she runs towards the melee.

“Stop it!” She cries, swinging as hard as she can into Salazar’s back. He topples over with a grunt.

Salazar glares at her. “You little bitch.” Logan takes advantage of Salazar being momentarily preoccupied, kicking straight into one of the goon’s chin. He falls with a yelp. But another goon grabs Ellie, throwing her roughly into a car door. Ellie feels a searing pain from her forehead, raising her hand to grasp at it. When she brings her hand back down, there’s blood on her palm. “Nnh.” She mutters weakly, putting both hands to the asphalt in an attempt to get back to her feet.

“Ellie!” Logan exclaims. He’s covered in bruises, but he tries to push himself up anyway. He is quickly beaten back down.

Salazar gets to his feet, dusting himself off. “You don’t know who you messed with.” He threatens, readying to stomp down on Logan.

Suddenly, a razor sharp knife flicks to Salazar’s throat, Mona appears behind him with Toby, Colt, and Ximena, all looking very threatening. Ellie is surprised Toby can pull off such a menacing look.

“Do you?” Mona asks, allowing the blade to dig in a little more. Salazar lowers his foot, putting his hands up, knowing he’s been beaten. “Don’t show your faces here again.” Mona threatens, shoving Salazar away. Salazar glares at Ellie and Logan one more time before stalking away, his injured goons following behind him.

Colt offers Logan a hand up. “You’re pretty lucky I saved your ass, huh? Pshh…and dad thinks you could replace me.”

Logan ignores Colt’s hand, getting up on his own. “Funny, I don’t feel too lucky right about now. Where’s Ellie?”

“Logan!” Ellie runs to the group, taking Logan’s face into her hands and gently examining the bruising, the worst of it around his right eye, which is swollen shut. He smiles weakly at her, apologetically. Ellie sighs, gently rubbing her thumb on his cheek. “We need to get you home Logan.”

She turns towards the others. “Thank you for saving him.”

Colt smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Consider it Mercy Park Crew community service.”

…

“Ellie? Logan?” Her dad’s voice carries from the kitchen as Ellie opens the front door and the door alarm chimes shortly.

“Hey Dad, we’re home.” Ellie calls back, trying to tug Logan up the stairs before her dad sees his bruises, which will no doubt lead to questions they’re unprepared to answer.

“Dinner is almost ready!” Her dad calls back. The smell of his home made spaghetti permeates the air.

“Okay! We’ll be down shortly!” Ellie yells from the top of the stairs, pulling Logan into his room. She pulls the door almost closed behind them, leaving it open just a crack. That’s another one of her dad’s rules, she and Logan aren’t allowed to be in a room together with the door closed.

Ellie pulls the first aid kid from the closet. “Sit.” She commands, so Logan takes a seat on his bed. Ellie turns the lamp beside the bed on, bathing Logan in its soft glow. For the first time she sees how badly injured he is. She sighs, taking a seat beside him. “You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble for me.”

“What are you talking about? They never would have gone after you if it wasn’t for me. So yes, I did” Logan insists. Ellie tenderly touches Logan’s face, and he tries to hide his wince, but she sees it. He places his hand over hers before she can pull back. “I’m fine Ellie. I’ve been in worse fights. They only got a few licks in.”

They clearly got more than a few licks in, but Ellie doesn’t argue with him. Instead, she opens the first aid kit. She remembers watching Salazar kick him in the ribs, knowing they’re probably seriously injured. “Can you take off your shirt?” She asks softly.

He peels off the white t-shirt, wincing a little at the movement, and tosses the shirt to the floor. He keeps the spark plug necklace he’s always wearing on.

She’s felt how toned he is when they’ve hugged, but it’s an entirely different experience to see all his taut muscles exposed in the low light of the lamp. But before she can become too distracted by his amazing body and six pack abs, she notices the dark purple bruising all over his sides. And beneath that, the scars from the car accident he told her about when he was teaching her to drive, making her promise to always be in control.

Ellie grabs the peroxide from the kit and dabs it on a long gash running down his collarbone. “Fuck, that stings.” Logan complains, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries not to pull away from her.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes, placing a soft kiss to the tan skin near the gash without even thinking about it. But she notices his soft intake of breath and realizes what she just did. She slowly raises her gaze to meet his.

Something electric passes between them, and then Logan’s eyes go up further, to the cut on her forehead. He pushes her hair out of her face and traces it, his touch gentler than she could ever expect from the same boy she saw just a half hour earlier fighting the goons so viciously.

“You’re hurt.” He observes.

“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s hurt.” She retorts, knocking his hand aside and getting back to her task of bandaging up the cut.

He shakes his head softly, watching her as she starts to bandage up his ribs. “You should have run Ellie. Why didn’t you run like I told you to?” Logan admonishes.

“I couldn’t just leave you there Logan.”

“You have to. You have to be able to leave me Ellie. Otherwise…” He trails off, turning away from her.

“Otherwise what? Logan?” When he still doesn’t respond, she puts both hands on his face and forces him to make eye contact. “What are you trying to tell me Logan?” She asks softly, looking deeply into his brown eyes.

Suddenly, he surges forward, lips capturing hers in a searing kiss.

Oh my God, he’s kissing her. She’s having her first kiss. She’ll have to call Riya later, her long-time best friend will want to know about this. Logan’s hands tangle in her hair, tilting her head as he attempts to deepen the kiss. Ellie doesn’t know what to do with her hands, she starts to put them on his strong bare shoulders, but chickens out at the last moment and let’s them fall back to her sides.

Wait, he’s licking at her lips now. Does that mean something? Does he want her to open her mouth? Is she ready for that? What if she’s a bad kisser? Is she totally embarrassing herself?

Logan pulls away from her lips, resting his forehead against hers as both of their eyes open. “You’re overthinking this.”

“I overthink everything.”

Logan smiles softly at that response, giving her a quick peck. “Just relax. Do what feels natural. Trust me Ellie, there’s nothing you can do that I won’t like.” He closes his eyes and kisses her again, and Ellie takes his advice. She doesn’t think, she does what feels natural. Ellie’s hands trail up his arms to loop around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. He opens his mouth, and because of the way their wet lips are staggered, her mouth opens too, allowing him to slip his tongue in.

It’s an unfamiliar sensation, but she decides she likes it. She tentatively circles his tongue with her own, and he hums appreciatively. Despite his injuries, he pulls her onto his lap, letting her straddle him. He pulls back to give her time to breathe, kissing down her neck and across her collar bone.

She tangles her fingers in his hair. It’s as soft as she always imagined it would be. Logan’s name escapes her lips on a breathy sigh as he sucks on her collar bone, marking her. He returns to her lips, kissing her more forcefully, hand pressed to her lower back to pull her even closer.

“Dinner!” Detective Wheeler calls from downstairs, causing the two teens to quickly spring away from each other, remembering where they are.

“We can’t let him see you like this. I’ll tell him you’re tired and skipping dinner. I’ll bring up your food later. Hopefully your eye will be less swollen tomorrow, we’ll put some concealer on your bruises.” Ellie plans out loud.

Logan smiles softly, really wanting to kiss her again. “Sounds like a plan troublemaker.” She turns to head downstairs. “Wait!” Logan calls out, reaching for her hand. He gently pulls her back to him and tugs her shirt up a little, covering the hickey forming on her collar bone. “Okay, you can go now.”

…

Taglist: @choicesarehard @ifyouseekheart @brightpinkpeppercorn @regina-and-happiness @choicelogansbitch @flyawayboo @fairydustandsarcasm @alesana45 @umiumichan @maxwellsquidsuit @lahelable @god-save-the-keen @mrsmckenziesworld @paisleylovergirl @iplaydrake @sinclaire-made-me-sin @hazah @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @cora-nova @justdani14 @lady-dianelewis @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @badchoicesposts @client-327 @riverrune @liamzigmichael4ever @princessstellaris

#logan rod #logan x mc #ride or die #rodaw #choices fanfiction #choices #playchoices

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

Text

Well... All Right

@strawberryfields-forever said: Hello my love, I saw the Beatles post, and I was wondering if I could request a John Lennon imagine? Maybe where the reader and him are out on their first date of sorts and she surprises him with how wild and rebellious she is, cause she doesn’t seem like that normally. Or just something cute and fluffy! Ilyxxxx

(a/n: i didn’t know how many people like queen AND the beatles so if ur on my reg taglist and see this, let me know if you’d like to be tagged in beatles imagines!! i don’t want to clog ur mentions with things u dont want hehe. speaking of clogs i hope brian may has a good night anyways here u go!!! fluffy misbehaving john lennon for ur viewing pleasure)

You hadn’t struck John as the type to say yes to dates with men you hardly knew, especially with such an unruly character like himself. So when he was fooling around in your painting class and started flirting harmlessly with you, he expected nothing out of it. You were usually quiet, kept to yourself, turned in your work on time, and asked no questions. Not exactly the kind of girl that would be climbing out of Liverpool’s waterfront, drenched and tipsy and laughing deliriously as she clutched onto John’s hat, which was also beyond soaked, while a cop yelled at you from afar

But here you were, drenched, tipsy, and clutching onto his hat. And he’d never questioned his personal judgement so much, a queer, amused smile coming to his face as he held out a hand to help you up the ladder.

It had started out innocently enough. The professor had brought in another nude model for you all to paint over the course of the afternoon, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit at the way John groaned loud enough for the class to hear. After the hell he’d raised with the female model last month when he managed to show up for one class, you couldn’t imagine what he had in mind for the male model that now stood before you.

“This is the last time I actually show up for class, I swear,” he mumbled, digging through his bag to pull out his paints as you feigned apathy, already mixing your skin tone for the man that laid on the table in the center of the room. But John had said that many times before – he’d always show up, take the seat nearest you, find out what was happening for the day, and swear that he’d never show face again. And then you’d see him eventually, maybe within days, maybe within weeks.

You tried to focus on the man before you, staring intently at the skin on his cheeks and noting that there was some discoloration, possibly rosacea, so you scraped some of your skin tone off to the side and added just a tick of red, mixing it in. John was watching you out of the corner of his eye, clearly not interested in all at painting what he was supposed to paint as his eyes wandered, the professor getting more irritated by the minute as his canvas remained blank.

“Mr. Lennon, you seem to be coming along well,” the professor remarked on his next round, tapping a bony finger to the empty canvas and sending him a sarcastic smile. John scoffed, looking over in your direction and rolling his eyes as if to say ‘This guy.’ Then, his ever-expressive face was blessed by a wide smile, and he gave the professor a thumbs up paired with a goofy, sweet grin, making you suppress a laugh as you tried to focus on the natural curve of the man’s thighs. The professor eyed you for a moment, then narrowed his eyes as he looked back to John – and with that, he was gone, off to his next victim.

“Geez, wonder if he’s ever heard of breath mints,” John mumbled, and that got a snicker out of you before you quickly pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, barely holding back a grin. Now he was actually looking at you, an ever-present mischievous grin on his face making a blush spread across yours as you sat your paintbrush down in your cup of water. “That was a cute little laugh. Do it again.”

“John,” you admonished softly, nodding towards the male model and stifling another laugh as you bit your lower lip. He only shrugged, appearing indifferent towards the subject at hand when he had you right there to bother. “We’re both going to get poor marks if you start bugging me.”

“You say bugging, I say making conversation. Who will ever win?” he countered, and he noticed that the professor had started to lecture, but didn’t really care much as he continued. “I never caught your name, what is it?”

Looking between him and the professor a bit nervously, you returned your eyes to your painting as you held back a grin, still chewing on your lower lip. “Y/N.”

“Y/N. Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he remarked, flashing you a dazzling smile.

He was a bit of a charming fellow in terms of looks, if not a bit odd for the school scene. He always came in with the most unruly, fluffy hair, shorter on the sides than it was on top, and he wore outfits that stood out among the rest of your peers. While they opted for loose sweaters and blocky trousers that hid any sort of curve whatsoever, John dressed in longer blazers, tight jeans, form-fitting trousers, and the likes, sticking out like a sore thumb. And he was attractive, you had to admit. He was young, just freshly 18, and had the teddy boy look down to an art – the swagger, the hair, the confident smile, the glint in his eyes that was so rebellious, and yet not threatening to you at all. His charming, boyish looks and mussy golden-brown hair were enough to send anyone with eyes crazy, especially in such a strict institute.

“Thank you,” you murmured in response, smiling a bit as you picked up your paintbrush, then dipped it in the paint and ran it along the curve of the painted man’s side. The paint thinly spread out and started breaking up when the product ran out near the end of your swipe. “You always hit on your classmates like this?”

“Nah, just the really cute ones.”

“Mr. Lennon! Something important you’re discussing with Miss Y/N, I presume?” Your professor’s mention of your name set all of your nerve endings on fire and you clammed up, staring straight at your painting and wishing that you could melt into a puddle of nothingness at this exact moment.

But John was unashamed and unafraid, resting his hands on his knees as he sat up on his stool a bit, peeking around the canvas at where the professor was across the room. “Just making conversation, sir. Hard to flirt with all this noise in the background.” He really did not give a shit about this class, did he? You pressed your lips into a thin line as you tried not to blush even more at the fact that John was flirting with you and now the entire class was aware.

The professor looked very much annoyed, but just stared for a moment before continuing his tangent about getting the shading correct, and John gave you a devilish smile when you glanced over at him to shoot daggers at him. “You’re going to get us suspended, you cheeky bastard.”

“Oh, you’re so tame. I like that,” he laughed, starting to dump out some paint that didn’t even closely resemble any of the skin tones on the man before you. He stood, brushing his tight drainpipe trousers off and stretching his legs out so the trousers fell back over the white socks that peeked out of his suede creepers. And then he walked up to the model, crouching down directly in front of his face as you watched, entranced by this enigmatic, lively character that seemed to be studying the model’s … face?

When he came back, you raised an eyebrow in question, resituating yourself on your stool a bit so you could cross your legs. “What was that all about?”

“Give me a date with you and I’ll tell you.” The look in his eyes was challenging, daring you to say yes, although a part of him knew it would probably never happen. You were a straight-A student, and going out with the black-sheep of this college would definitely screw that image right up. So when you responded, a genuine look of shock overtook his features.

“Alright. When and where?”

So you’d decided to meet John the next night outside of a little restaurant in the bohemian district, grab a bite to eat before going out for a few drinks, then ‘see where the night took you,’ according to him. He showed up dressed in his usual tight black trousers, brown suede creepers, and a black shirt layered with a forest green jacket. It was particularly windy, so he’d opted to bring a hat, but it was twirling around on his finger when you saw him, an absentminded time-passer that slowed to a stop when he finally spotted you.

You weren’t in your usual blocky sweater and longer skirt. Now, a short-sleeve sweater of white accentuated all your curves right down to your waist, where the sweater met a relatively formfitting black pencil skirt that didn’t even dare to pass your knees, exposing black tights that slimmed your legs even more. The small tears in the tights led right down to the red heels you’d chosen for yourself, drawing so much attention from older generations as you passed on the sidewalk that you thought they’d drop dead from shock right there. This was rebellion in 1950’s Liverpool. Showcasing your body, accentuating your legs? Scandalous.

Scandalous, and yet you knew John loved it as an appreciative, yet puzzled smile crept onto his face. His jaw was still slightly slack, shocked from the contrast, but he reached out and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek when you finally made it to him, which you reciprocated. And then he offered his arm, walking into the restaurant with you side-by-side.

Conversation remained light during the meal, John footing the bill when it was time to pay and helping you out of your seat when it was time to go to the pub. When you both had a few drinks in you, that’s when things really began to start flowing.

“So what happened to the whole studious library girl look you have going on every day?” he asked, hand firmly wrapped around the mug of beer in front of him on the bar. You grinned fully, not hiding the smile you usually tried to repress in class, and John quirked an eyebrow slightly, noting how astonishingly mischievous the look in your eyes was.

“Every day? I haven’t seen you show up to class consecutively since the beginning of this semester. And here you talk as if you know what I look like every day,” you teased, tracing your finger around the rim of your own beer, John laughing and raising his hands in surrender.

“Okay, you got me. I may or may not skip class a bit. I’m the antichrist, I know. But you didn’t answer my question?” he prodded, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the bar, propping up his head.

“It’s a nice college, John. I’d like to get my degree eventually, but can you imagine what the professors would say if I showed up in what I usually wear?”

“Is this what you usually wear?” he questioned, no hint of malice or teasing in his voice. He was just genuinely curious, leaning forward and hanging on to your every word. He’d never seen someone flip a switch like this, and the ease with which you did it was astounding. It was like he was meeting you all over again, and it fascinated him.

“Yes,” you giggled, taking another drink of your beer before sitting it down and hopping off the stool, holding out a hand. “Any song requests? I’m headed over to the jukebox, the songs are awful right now.

He had to admit, the songs were not the greatest, so he dropped some money into your hand and told you to play whatever you liked before watching you easily slip through the crowd, taking a moment to pick a few songs before returning. And then the sound of Buddy Holly started softly playing as you climbed back onto your stool, crossing a leg and taking another drink of your beer.

John raised an eyebrow, again surprised that you listened to Buddy Holly. Buddy had passed away earlier this year, and you saw quite a few faces sober up, but it was such a good song that people were soon singing along to it. Others, not so much. The rock and roll trend still wasn’t quite a phenomena, and the genre was clearly divisive, but you very much enjoyed the rock and roll sound of Holly, tapping your fingers on the table to the beat and smiling at certain parts of the song.

“You like this kind of music?” John questioned, and you nodded, propping your head up on your hand as your elbow rested on the bar.

“’f course. Shame about what happened to him, really thought he was the best of the best.” John leaned back a bit, nodding slowly and grinning as he listened to you continue on about your preference for rock and roll. A girl talking so openly about such a damning subject was attractive to him, and he found his pulse speeding up when you’d finished talking, asking him what kind of music he liked.

“Same music, really. I actually play in a band, if you’re interested. Well, sort of,” he retracted, pulling a goofy face before pursing his lips and continuing. “We’re just three guys with too many guitars and not enough drums.”

“Sounds like you’re in quite a dilemma,” you observed, finishing off your beer at the same time that he finished off his. The bartender refilled them when he passed by a moment later, John paying and smiling politely at the bartender before they were off again. His focus returned to you, and he took a moment to remember where you were in the conversation as you sipped some of the foam off the top of your lager. When you took quite a big drink of the beer to chase that sip, John raised an eyebrow curiously.

“We are in quite a dilemma. But it looks like you’re going to be in quite a dilemma soon if you keep out-drinking me.” Giggling, you shook your head and took another drink, then propped your head up on your hand and gave him a challenging look.

“If you really want to see me outdrink you, you’d do shots with me.”

“Shots?” he laughed incredulously, his hand still wrapped around the handle of the beer mug. “I take back calling you tame yesterday. Don’t we technically have class tomorrow?”

“At noon, plenty of time to recover. And since when have you ever cared about class? Half of the school has wagers on when you’re going to be expelled, Lennon,” you retorted, raising an eyebrow and giving him a devilishly sweet smile, one that let on to the idea that maybe you were far more feisty than even he knew. “Three shots. That’s all.” Your hand shot out, daring him to take it and accept.

“Three shots?” he considered, mulling over it for a second before he sighed overdramatically and took your hand, shaking it. “You’re a funny girl. A surprise up your sleeve at every turn.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” you asked, flagging down the bartender as you kept your gaze on John expectantly, biting your lower lip to hold back a big grin.

A small smirk toyed at John’s lips as he scanned your face for a second, then shrugged. “We’ll see.”

It was most definitely not a bad thing. You both took the shots, no chaser for you and John looking at you in a disgusted sort of impressed that made you laugh. And when you’d begun to get flushed and overheated from all the alcohol in your system, you leaned on John and requested a walk by the waterfront.

Now here you were, holding on to John’s shoulder as you laughed at another corny joke he’d told in his slurred speech, being just as tipsy as you. His arm was wrapped around your waist, the both of you supporting each other terrible as you teetered and tottered down the sidewalk next to the water, gusts of wind blowing in and stinging your cheeks a deeper red than they already were from a combo of the alcohol and John’s flirting. The sun was getting low, shrouding you both in a semi-darkness that seemed to bring an exclusivity to the pair of you as you strolled down the waterfront.

“This wind is going t’be the death of my hair, I swear,” you complained, trying to push it out of your face to no avail and laughing at yourself when you failed miserably. “I give up. I’m just goin’ to look like a wooly mammoth forever.”

“Aw, I think it’s kind of cute,” he teased gently, squeezing your side, and then he reached up to move his cap from his head to yours, pulling it down over your eyes a bit. “There, is that better?”

“John, I can’t see!” you squealed, John laughing and pulling the cap down over your eyes more as you tried in vain to fight his efforts. “You’re such an arse! Can’t believe I agreed to come on a date with you, you little bastard!”

“Oh, you’re just spouting nonsense now!” he chuckled, letting go of the brim anyways and giving you a mischievous grin when you finally managed to pull the cap up from your eyes. Trying to resituate your hair, you shot him a playfully nasty look before stopping where you were, John’s arm slipping off of your waist for a moment as he slid his hands into his pockets. You used the rail behind you for support, your vision a bit hazy as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail with the hair tie that had been in your pocket, John smiling at the new look and making you blush a bit more. “Are my eyes deceiving me or did you just blush?”

“Definitely your eyes,” you countered, although there wasn’t even a trace of truth in your voice as you blushed even more, John taking the opportunity to lean his side against the rail next to you, taking one hand out of his pocket to lift up a strand of hair you’d forgotten and tuck it into the cap.

It was probably the alcohol, but as you looked up into John’s warm brown eyes, you’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life. His fluffy hair was flying wildly in the wind, making him look even more tousled and adorable than he usually did anyways, and his lips were slightly chapped, but the pout of his lower lip made you graze your teeth over your own, contemplating for a moment. And he was doing the same, suddenly quiet as a mouse as his eyes ran over your own plump, tempting lips before looking back up to meet your slightly glazed eyes.

A mutual exchange must have taken place, but you couldn’t have registered it even if you tried, because the next moment, John was leaning down to kiss you, taking your face in one hand and smiling against your lips when you reciprocated, making a slightly surprised noise. The two of you moved your lips in sync for a minute or two, conveniently forgetting the hat on your head until John went to tilt his head the other way and managed to knock it right into the water.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered as he broke away from the kiss, both of you peering over the railing at the hat that was just lapping up against the concrete barrier below. Laughing a bit, you glanced at John, who had a mournful look on his face. “My favorite hat, too.”

“I’ve got it,” you shrugged, using the railing to lean on shakily as you began to yank off your heels, John looking at you like you were mad. “What? You said it’s your favorite, I don’t personally want to be the reason that John Lennon is without his favorite hat. I’d imagine you’d paint a memorial photo of it in class just to spite me. It’s not like you ever paint the actual subject anyways.”

“Have you gone mental?” he laughed, taking your heels from you and following as you started over to the ladder nearby, nothing but an open padlock to stop you from opening the gate. “It’s probably bloody cold in that water. You’ll freeze.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” you teased, giving him a gentle nudge before you swung open the gate, starting to climb down to his amazement. The hat wasn’t far from the ladder, but just far enough that you had to get in. When you did get into the water, you cursed lightly at how cold it was despite the fact that you were drunk, John laughing at your language as you swam over to the hat, snatching it up and holding it up in victory.

“You’re crazy!” he called out over the whistling of the wind, making you smile widely as you started to swim back over to the ladder. Grabbing onto the bottom rung, you were starting to pull yourself up when you heard someone down the waterfront start shouting. Both of you looked in the same direction, spotting a cop that was shaking a fist at you and screaming. You couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you assumed it wasn’t nice, and John burst out laughing at the same time as you, holding out a hand and urging you to hurry. “You’re going to get us both arrested!” he yelled, grinning as you laughed deliriously at the angry old cop who was cursing you out.

Scrambling up the ladder while you cackled, John hoisted you to your feet and didn’t waste a moment in taking off running with you, your hands clasped together tightly as you giggled breathlessly and made an escape down the backstreets towards your dorms. You were freezing by the time you’d managed to make it to your dorm, which was empty when you entered, gasping for air in between hysterical laughing bouts. John slumped back against your door and held his hand to his chest while you grabbed a towel, trying to dry yourself the rest of the way off and catch your breath.

“Here you are,” you giggled breathlessly, tossing him his cap and making him go into another round of laughter as it hit his chest, falling to the floor. “Don’t say I never did anything for you!”

“My god, Y/N, you’re mad,” he gasped, his smile ear to ear as he laughed at the state of you, soaked to the bone and shivering as you searched for dry clothes. When you found them, he covered his eyes graciously and just chuckled, finally catching his breath while he waited patiently for you to change. “I thought we were goners, for sure.”

“You have little faith,” you teased, changing into some pajama pants and a loose shirt before pulling your hair out of the ponytail. “You can open your eyes now, Lennon.”

“I don’t know if I like you calling me Lennon,” he remarked, uncovering his eyes and crawling to his feet after sitting your heels and the hat on the floor. “Reminds me so much of the professor in painting.”

“Would you prefer Johnny Boy?” you asked playfully, helping him out of his jacket and laying it over your arm as he turned to face you, pursing his lips.

“Not exactly.” But he let the subject drop as he tucked some of your still-damp hair behind your ear, grinning softly. “I quite liked it in the soggy ponytail, wild girl.”

“Wild girl?” you asked, briefly interrupted when he leaned in for a quick kiss. You kissed back, pouting a bit when he pulled away so soon, but continued your observation anyways. “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

He grinned even wider, keeping his hand resting on the nape of your neck while taking his jacket from your arm and dropping it to the floor near his hat. “Definitely a compliment.”

let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist for my beatles imagines in the future! REQUESTS CLOSED!

#john lennon #john lennon imagine #john lennon x reader #the beatles #the beatles imagine #john lennon fic #the beatles fic

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solarune · 5 years

Text

meet me on the rooftop

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers is implied at the end i guess, college au, spiderman au

warnings: wasn’t sure if i should put fem!reader or not bc it’s implied that reader has long hair that gets into their face at one point but not everyone that identifies as a girl has long hair and people that don’t identify as a girl have long hair so like??? pls let me know if i made the right decision lol

word count: 1,979

a/n: i listened to the soundtrack for “into the spider-verse” while writing the last 1/3 of this lmao. i was actually going to name this “let go” after the song by beau young prince (but decided against it bc i didn’t think it fit) on the soundtrack so listen to that song while reading this if you’d like? also this happened because of @retro-milk‘s spider-man!mark au and a drawing of spider-man!mark i saw on twitter

Mark smirks underneath his mask as he watches the bank robbers squirm underneath the webbing, their boots scuffing against the brick wall of the bank’s entrance as they beg him to let them go. Just as he’s about to reply, police sirens cut him off, their red, white, and blue lights lighting up the street around him, and Mark takes that as his signal to leave. With a mocking salute and a “See you fellas later,” he makes his way down the street, shooting a web to the roof of an office building and taking off just as the first police car arrives. Mark can’t help but let out a whoop of joy as he swings from building to building, the various noises of Seoul’s nightlife the soundtrack to his next destination.

After Mark’s long and exhausting week, he definitely needed tonight to let off some steam, especially after the psychology midterm he took in the afternoon. He had studied all week long, gotten a total of maybe 6 hours of sleep in the past 2 days, but the second he read the first question of the exam, he felt his mind go blank. Mark was frustrated to say the least, so tonight’s victory was a much-needed pick-me-up and a great outlet to let go of everything.

He lets his mind wander as his body moves on autopilot, the route to his destination so well-known to him that he could probably get there with his eyes closed (he wouldn’t dare try that though because knowing his luck, he’d run face-first into a lamppost). His feet touch down on concrete, footsteps silent as he lets go of the web and takes in the sight before him: graffiti on the wall to his left, pigeon poop covering the abandoned wooden crates to his right, and the city of Seoul in front of him. Mark makes his way to the wall in front of him, slowly sitting down with a sigh as he takes everything in and takes off his mask.

He tries to not come to the rooftop of your apartment building too often for fear of getting caught, specifically by you, but he just couldn’t help himself tonight. He knows that he’s running a big risk, that you enjoy your alone time on the rooftop—stargazing while listening to one of your many playlists—that for all he knows, you could be there right now. But being there reminds him of simpler times. Before college, before he was Spider-Man, before things got so complicated and the world was black and white rather than various shades of grey. It reminds him of when you and him were still in high school and he would follow you up the fire escape to the roof. You would lie down on the cold concrete and look up at the stars and talk about anything and everything; your pasts, the weird kid in your geography class, how scared you were of what college would be like. Things were a lot easier back then.

Or maybe they just felt easier because you were always with him. Mark found you very comforting, which isn’t surprising considering you’re his best friend. The two of you balance each other out really well and had been inseparable since the 2nd grade when Mark moved to Korea from Canada; hell, you were one of the reasons Mark even became Spider-Man in the first place. Even now, with college consuming every minute of your lives, you and Mark still make time for each other. Because that’s what best friends do. But Mark is tired of being your best friend, is tired of constantly having to push down the confession that’s on the tip of his tongue every time he sees you. He wants to give you the world but he supposes that protecting the one you live in is good enough for him for now.

As he’s staring at the N Seoul Tower off in the distance, Mark hears quiet footsteps behind him and he scrambles to put his mask back on, cursing loudly at himself in his head. It’s only September, when the nights are still warm, of course someone would be on the roof. He turns around to see who it is while simultaneously planning his escape in his head, but freezes when he sees that it’s you. You stop in your tracks, your right hand fidgeting with the hem of his your old high school shirt and your left hand lifted up to him as if to show that you mean no harm.

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like minutes, neither of you wanting to break the silence, but eventually you gather enough courage to ask, “Are you okay?”

Mark is taken aback at that; of all questions you want to ask him, you ask if he’s okay? “U-Uh, I… What?” he stutters out, not completely sure what you mean by that. Judging by the indentations on your cheek, he guesses that you had been asleep for around half an hour, which means you had been on the roof for an hour and a half before falling asleep. There was no way you would know about Spider-Man stopping a bunch of bank robbers only a few miles from your apartment. So there’s no way that you would know he’s hurt.

He sees you bite your lower lip and can’t help but smile softly at that, his eyes never leaving your face as yours look down at your feet. “S-Sorry, you were just… sighing a lot? But the sad kind of sigh, and also the exhausted kind, so I just thought I should ask because, well, when am I ever going to get another chance to talk to Spider-Man, you know?”

He can’t help but laugh at your rambling, the tightness in his chest easing up at your words and your presence. “I’m okay,” Mark nods, thanking God that he remembered to turn on the voice distortion. He wasn’t quite ready to have that talk with you yet. “It’s just been a long week. School’s been kicking my ass, I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep—you know, the regular college student type of stress.” He finishes his explanation with a shrug, mentally pushing down the stress when his mention of school makes him think about his psychology exam. “I had a psychology exam today and I didn’t do that great on it.”

You nod at his explanation, slowly walking over to sit next to him on the ledge. You sit far enough away to maintain a respectable distance but still close enough where he could smell the faint scent of the oil you put in your hair after you shower. “I feel that,” you chuckle, your hands clenching into fists where they rest on your thighs. “I had an exam today too, in my biology class, and I just completely bombed it.” (Mark has to stop himself from asking about your exam when you say that, his confusion as to why you told him earlier today that you thought you did fine almost giving away his identity.) You shake your head a bit and laugh to yourself quietly, letting out a sigh before looking up at him with a small smile. “My best friend Mark also had an exam in his psychology class today. He looked sad when I met up with him for coffee when we were both done with classes so I didn’t pry.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, Mark looking up at the sky and just beginning to wonder whether or not he should leave, whether or not it was even a good idea for him to be there in the first place, when you break the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

Mark looks over at you, his hand twitching when the cool breeze sweeps a couple of strands of your hair in front of your face. “You technically just did,” Mark jokes, his suit’s voice distortion making him sound a lot more confident than he felt. “But yeah, go ahead.”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, huffing out a laugh before looking up at the sky. “How can you tell when someone is keeping something from you?” Mark freezes at that, every hair on his body standing straight up as he looks at you. “It’s just…” you begin, taking the hero’s silence and stare as a request to elaborate. “Mark hasn’t been himself lately. He hasn’t been sleeping, he seems really on-edge about everything, and sometimes… sometimes I even see cuts and bruises on him. And I try to ask him what’s going on, if he’s in some sort of trouble, but he always says that I shouldn’t think about it, that it’s nothing to worry about. But that’s ridiculous because of course I’m going to worry and think about it—I’m his best friend, first of all, and second of all, I’m already thinking about him half the time because I’m in love with him, but that’s an entirely different story.”

Mark jumps up at that, his feet hitting the concrete hard enough to make his teeth rattle, but he barely notices as he stares at you. “You’re what?” he asks in disbelief. You are in love with him? With Mark Lee, the boy who, to this day, still hasn’t found a way to make his heart stop beating so fast whenever he hears you laugh, who blushes whenever you tease him, who feels like he’s going to faint whenever the two of you so much as brush shoulders?

“I know, I know,” you reply while shaking your head. “I’m in love with my best friend, super lame. No need to tell me that, all of my friends already do on a daily basis.”

“No,” Mark disagrees, briefly wondering if you’re able to hear how loud and fast his heart is beating because that’s almost all he can hear at this point. “It’s cute actually. Like something out of one of those teen romance movies you find on Netflix, you know?” You laugh at that and Mark sits down beside you once again, a little bit closer this time. “And as for Mark, it sounds like he just doesn’t want to worry you. Since you and him have been best friends for so long, he probably knows that there are things that you’re worrying about too and he just doesn’t want to add to that,” he explains, finding courage from the mask and suit on his body to confide in you (whether or not you actually know it’s him). “You just need to trust him. I’m sure he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready.”

Nodding at his words, you look out at the city once more, finding a new love for it in that moment. “Can I ask you one more thing?” You see him nod out of the corner of your eye and continue, a smile appearing on your face as you say it. “If this whole superhero thing doesn’t work out for you, can you keep trying to help people somehow? Because you’re really good at it.”

He can’t help but let out a loud laugh at that, the two of you standing up at the same time as the conversation comes to an end. Mark turns his back to the city lights, looking at you as he stands on the ledge. “I’ll try,” he agrees. With that, he takes a step back and falls off the roof, thrusting his arm out and shooting out a web as he begins his journey home. He smiles to himself when he hears you yell out, “Goodnight, Spider-Man,” letting out a whoop as he lets go of a web, closing his eyes as he falls before releasing another one.

#nct scenario #nct imagine #mark lee scenario #mark lee imagine #nct scenarios #nct imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #nct one shot #mark lee one shot #mark lee x reader #spiderman mark lee #nct x reader #nct spiderman au #mark lee au #nct au #i haven't written something this long in years so i'm very proud of myself #i also really love spiderman so this has been a long time coming #not /as/ good as i want it to be and definitely didn't go the way i thought it would go but i'm happy with it

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theincompetentgenius · 5 years

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Hey, could you give me a match up or life generator for IkeSen? Anything is fine. I'm like 156cms (I know ;_;) I'm introverted but curious by nature. I'm also much of a talker when I become friends with someone. Kinda sassy, likes cats,dogs, raccoons (you get it) and philosophy. I get frightened easily, a box falling from my shelf suddenly can get me screaming 😂 I am a dork. Just found your blog btw and I love it 😭💖

Thanks for sending in the request and I’m sorry about the wait! Also, can I say thank you because your request saved my writer’s block because I got carried away?

Thank you for your interest in the world of Ikemen Sengoku. You will shortly be reborn in your new life. The simulation will begin in 3..... 2..... 1.......

B A C K G R O U N D

Your story began right before your first job interview in Japan. You had graduated from college a few months ago with an economics major and a philosophy minor. Many considered it a peculiar blend of studies, but the contrasting subjects allowed you to enjoy your time at college while maintaining the image of a unique candidate. All throughout school, your academics were fairly strong. It wasn’t the golden 4.0, but high enough to land you your first job. The only issue was that your Japanese wasn’t the strongest, so you were worried about not being able to convey your thoughts properly. To deal with this, you practiced in advance.

On the way to your interview, you noticed that the clouds had become larger and darker. You didn’t want to be reckless, but there was lots of traffic on the road and your interview was in fifteen minutes. If it started raining, then traffic would probably stop moving and you would be late, so you looked for an alternative route on your GPS. Luckily enough, there was a route that would get you to your destination in time. So you took the closest exit and left that mess.

The streets of the detour were small and narrow. The clouds had become so dark that it looked more like midnight than an afternoon. A shiver ran down your spine. The faster you got out of there, the better. It was not long before the rain started, thunder echoing in the background. You slowed down the speed of your car and proceeded with caution.

Your car broke down halfway through the detour. After jamming your keys to start the car (with no results), you got out of your car to search for help. You saw a man in a white lab coat with glasses on the porch of a quaint cottage and rushed to him.

“Can you help me? My car broke down in the middle of the road. ” Your voice was filled with desperation.

He was startled by your sudden appearance. “Ma’am, you need to leave. There is a wormhole that is going to open in a few minutes.”

“I can’t leave if my car doesn’t start.” A clash of thunder echoed in the background. You jumped from the loud noise and looked back at the man.

“Alright, I’ll look for some numbers that you can call to help you. However, I think that this area is extremely unsafe for you,” He said, pulling out his phone.

You nodded. As you waited for the young man in the lab coat, the storm intensified. Hints of blue and green sprouted from the clouds. Was this from the wormhole thing that the man was talking about? You wanted to ask but you didn’t want to burden him more than you already had. But the colors were rapidly spreading across the sky, forming a circle.

“Sir? It that the wormhole you were talking about?” You pointed to the colors.

He pushed up his glasses with his fingers. His eyes widened. “You need to leave now. Just run away from here.”

Although you had no idea where the wormhole would take you, you knew it was nothing good. So you ran as fast as you could, but the wind ran with you. It grew stronger until it lifted you from your feet and threw you into the glowing wormhole.

F R I E N D S

Date Masamune

After saving Nobunaga’s life at Honno-ji, you tried your best to adjust to the Sengoku Era. However, the different expectations, mentalities, and social concepts made it almost impossible. Your introverted nature made it harder to talk to the other warlords and your fear only added to the distance. There was Ieyasu (who felt that Nobunaga made a mistake in keeping you around), Hideyoshi (who was still suspicious about your affiliations), and Mitsuhide (he’s the one who caused the fire at Honno-ji in our timeline, so you’re suspicious of him).

Your relationship with Masamune was interesting, to say the least. He nearly chopped off your head when confirming that you were from the future, smashed your arm because you had gotten to close to him during his training, and served you the spiciest dish that was reserved for Ieyasu. Yet he still dared to flirt with you, as if he hadn’t nearly killed you three times.

However, he was the friendliest out of everyone else. He would offer to take you around the town and helped you get settled in your new life. For that, you were extremely grateful. Sometimes the two of you would be out all day, as Masamune would bring Shogestu in the forests. You would point out the different animals around the area. Although he knew the forests very well, your observations made him feel that he was the foreigner.

“Did you see that deer?” You said.

He spun his head around. Then he looks back at you. “Yes, I do. There’s a beautiful doe sitting right in front of me.”

You give him a playful shove. “That’s not what I’m talking about, you idiot.”

“Oh ho, our little lassie is getting feisty!” He laughs.

“I am not little!” You try to shove him, but he doesn’t budge against the weight of your arms. Instead, he howls with laughter.

You stand up straight and clear your throat. “The only thing that’s little is your manhood!”

He freezes in the middle of his laugh. His face momentarily warps with awe and you feel good about sassing him for once. But his face turns into a smirk.

“Is that so? I don’t recall ever showing you anything.” He moves closer towards you. “Unless we had an encounter that I don’t remember.”

Your face turns red as you push him away. “I think I’m done here.”

He turns away with laughter, calling for his tiger cup. You dust off your kimono and look one last time into the woods, searching for any other animals. There aren’t any.

Except for the one-eyed beast who disguised his feelings of love in the form of friendship. A friendship he could never escape.

Other friends: Toyotomi Hideyoshi, Sanada Yukimura, Oda Nobunaga

**Quick Note: Basically he’s the other suitor in love with you during your time there, but he’s also your closest friend.

R O M A N C E

Akechi Mitsuhide

Although you spent lots of time with Masamune, your sights were set elsewhere. At first, you weren’t interested in this silver-tongued snake for romantic purposes. You assumed he was the one who tried to kill Nobunaga due to the events in our timeline, so you wanted to learn more about his schemes. At first, you kept your distance-- there was no need to interact with a shady traitor. Instead, you got your information about Mitsuhide from other people. The best source of information was the maids, but they had too much information (which were nothing but rumors). When you asked the warlords, they couldn’t tell you much either. He was a mystery waiting to be caught.

At one point, you decided to tell Nobunaga about the future and how it was Mitsuhide that set the fire at Honno-ji. However, you had no proof to back your claims. So against your better nature, you went and tailed Mitsuhide. This was the worst mistake possible because he figured you out within seconds of your investigation. When he asked you questions about your investigations, you didn’t give him any answers. However, that wasn’t necessary because he had you all figured out.

Soon, the tables turn on you. Mitsuhide investigated you because you had investigated him. While you cluelessly walked around the palace, he followed you to ensure you weren’t a threat. Once he assessed that you weren’t an assassin, Mitsuhide began to talk to you in public. At first, his conversations caught you off-guard. But you grew more comfortable around him, despite the warnings from everyone else. Mitsuhide himself warned about his other side, but you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. After all, your curiosity had shown you that he was much more than his reputation.

You spent your time trying to sass him, causing him to outwit you almost every time. Some times he’d let you have the last word, but you knew when he let you win. Instead, he was drawn to your dorkiness. It was a rare sight in the Azuchi Palace for someone to be so dorky. However, he realized that there was a more mature side to you when serious conversations arose. The mix of purity and realism surprised him; you were less naive than he expected.

However, the worst part of your relationship was when he tried to scare you. Once he figured out that you were easily startled, Mitsuhide used against you with no limits. One day, you were delivering a message from Masamune to Hideyoshi when you felt a cool breeze rush by.

You spun around. “Whose there?”

There was no answer. You shivered but continued on your journey to Hideyoshi’s room. Then, you heard soft footsteps behind you.

You jumped. “I know you’re following me! Show yourself!” You voice waivers.

Nothing. You let out a sigh, telling yourself that you were overreacting. A few steps later, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A scream escaped your lips and your feet tripped over each other. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the collision between your nose and the floor.

Instead, a pair of light arms grabbed your waist and draws you upwards. You open your eyes to find yourself face-to-face to Mitsuhide. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you are at a loss of words

“Careful, princess. Is that how you want to fall for me?”

F I N A L F A T E

As you spent more time with the warlords, you felt more at home. The world you once knew had become a distant memory; one that you weren’t sure that you wanted to return to. Time passed as you and Mitsuhide officialized your relationship, you and Masamune bid farewell as he returned to Oshu to take care of some business, and you became acquainted with the Uesugi-Takeda forces. Throughout all these changes, your love for your lover never waivered.

However, when Sauskue informed you that the wormhole to the present would appear in the next month, your whole life fell apart. While you wanted to stay at Azuchi with Mitsuhide, Nobunaga, and everyone else, you had left another set of relationships behind, Your friends, family, and that new job you wanted. Although you had found everything that you wanted in the Sengoku Era, you still wanted to accomplish your 21st-century dreams. So you packed your bags and prepared for the journey. Although Mitsuhide was devastated with your choice, he chose to accompany you until you stepped through the wormhole.

Once you arrived at your destination, you began having second thoughts. Your life was perfect in this era, you had everything. Why should you leave now? As Sasuke entered the portal, he held his hand out to help into the portal. You looked from his hand to your lover. Your mind was set.

“I’m sorry Sasuke, but I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll stay.” You run to Mitsuhide and embrace him in a tight hug.

Sasuke nods with a soft smile. “You do what’s best for you.”

With that, he disappears along with your old life. And you couldn’t be any happier.

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fallinnflower · 5 years

Text

fated

the8 x reader (soulmate!au, college!au, angst/fluff)

word count: 4,681

a/n: originally written as a birthday gift for the amazing @smeunjipark ! thank u for letting me post this to tumblr AND for being an amazing friend uwu ily

The morning of his eighteenth birthday, Minghao wakes up feeling surprisingly average.

He isn’t sure what’s supposed to change, really — soulmate manifestations are sometimes immediate, like the appearance of a soul mark, or the entire world’s color desaturating — but for a long moment he remains in bed, staring with anticipation up at the ceiling.

In his peripheral, he can see that his walls are still the same blue they’ve been since he was a child, so he rules that out, and closes his eyes.

He’s heard of soulmates that can share thoughts with each other, so he squeezes his eyes shut tighter and concentrates on making his mind go completely blank, until the only thought that rings out is a clear, somewhat timid,

Hello?

He waits. He keeps his eyes shut and bites the inside of his cheek until it hurts, and then he gives up with a loud, impatient sigh. He may have waited eighteen years, but suddenly the mere minutes he’s been awake feel like an eternity. His arm is draped over his forehead, all the excitement he had felt last night that kept him from falling asleep seeming to seep out of him, leaving a cold, leaden weight in his stomach. Somehow, he thought everything would change today — with the way everyone talks about soulmates, he imagined it must be such a monumental change that he would have to feel it.

Instead, he feels nothing. He’s just the same; still Xu Minghao, just a year older.

And then, suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he sees something. It’s gone the moment he blinks, but he knows it was there — a quick flash of color. He turns his head to see it better, in case it returns, trying his hardest not to blink so he won’t miss it.

The red string floats gently into his field of vision, and he bolts upright, holding his hands out in front of him. There, on his left pinky, is a tiny knot of red thread, trailing away towards his window and disappearing into the distance. His sheets seem to tangle around his legs as he stumbles out of bed, all his dancer’s grace lost as he flings open his window and leans out, extending his hand and staring down the length of the string until he has to strain his eyes to see it.

Squinting into the sunlight on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Minghao draws his hand back into the confines of his room, and laughs.

His entire eighteenth birthday is spent distractedly, despite being home for the weekend. He just can’t stop staring at the thread on his pinky (which is entirely intangible, he’s found), watching it sway in even the most minute breeze, and wondering where his soulmate is. Can they see it yet? Where are they? In a way, he’s almost sad that he doesn’t have a gift that allows him to speak to his soulmate, or know anything about them, but just the thought of meeting them one day is enough to boost his spirits.

His friends laugh when he tells them about it.

“It’s so traditional,” Jun laughs, but out of habit his fingers push the sleeve of his sweatshirt up to touch the soulmate mark on his inner wrist. Minghao slugs him in the shoulder, but he isn’t at all offended, both of them grinning wide enough to hurt their cheeks.

He goes to his classes on Monday, still walking on air, and Soonyoung doesn’t even let him put his bag down in the dance room before he’s grabbing Minghao’s hands and turning his arms over, lifting them up and searching for the string. Chan slowly appears at his side, peering around his shoulder to look at Minghao’s himself.

“Where is it?” Soonyoung whines, and Jun snickers as he brushes past the trio lingering by the doorway.

“Only soulmates can see the red string of fate, you know that,” Jun says airily, and Soonyoung freezes for a moment before dropping Minghao’s hands with a sheepish smile. His ears are just the faintest bit red at the tips as he shrugs,

“I knew that.” Chan just smiles at Minghao, but he can tell the youngest feels a little left out, now the only one out of the four of them to still be disconnected from his soulmate. Minghao imagines it must be hard, practicing dance with them while still being in his last year of grade school, watching them grow without him. Minghao slings an arm around his shoulder, and they walk to the far wall to drop their bags and start stretching.

He hopes Soonyoung will be the weirdest encounter he’ll have today, but knowing his friends, he can only muster up a wry smile at the thought of what’s to come. It’s going to be a long day.

It goes better than expected, actually, with the only further incidents proving to be Jeonghan smiling at him in a fashion that can only be described as motherly and smoothing down his hair, and Seungkwan shoving Hansol out of the way to congratulate Minghao first and ask him what it’s like.

“It feels the same,” Minghao says, and Seungkwan pouts as if Minghao is holding out on him. Vernon laughs at him, and it redirects his attention long enough that Minghao can glance down at his string.

Somehow, even though it’s been more than a day, the sensation hasn’t gotten old; his heart still gives an extra little thump every time he sees it.

He wonders how long it will take to find them, whoever they are. He imagines he's going to be thinking about that a lot from now on, considering he can't hide this the way Jun hides his mark.

A smile splits across his face, and the day goes on as usual.

But days turn into weeks, into months, until summer is approaching and the string has become nothing short of ordinary; in fact, he forgets it exists more often than not, now. It’s probably for the best, really, since it’s no longer a distraction in the middle of his classes. In the midst of finals, Minghao finds himself more preoccupied by books and notes and study groups than thoughts of his soulmate.

The same can't be said for Jun, however.

His best friend happens to meet his soulmate in the most rom-com-worthy scene Minghao could imagine — and really, nobody is too surprised by it. She works at the library, and Jun happened to be leaving one of Seungcheol's parties as she was locking up one night. It was raining, her hands were full — she tripped off the last step and stumbled right into Jun's arms.

Jun didn't get back to the dorm until three hours later that night, having asked his newfound soulmate out for ramen, and then called in to work the next morning because he couldn’t stop texting her late into the night.

Minghao hadn't met her yet, but he was sure that once finals wrapped up he'd be seeing her constantly.

The summer months are spent mostly indoors, working at a recreational center where he teaches classes — everything from dance to self defense — and lifeguarding when they end up severely short-staffed. There are worse jobs he could be doing, he thinks, though some days he gazes out the windows of the facilities and wishes he could just fly away.

Despite his best efforts, he can’t suppress the hope that wells up every day, the thought that he might meet his soulmate. He won’t admit it aloud, but part of the reason he agreed to work a job with such a high volume of people coming in and out every day was the idea that maybe, just maybe, his soulmate might walk through those big glass doors and straight into his life.

Unfortunately, fate seems to want to make things hard for him, and so the red string remains just as infinite as ever.

Jun’s soulmate is nice, and absolutely perfect for him, and it makes Minghao feel simultaneously better and worse. Better, because it gives him hope, and makes him excited. Worse, because he’s bitter, and Jun is his best friend, which makes the pit in his stomach grow.

“Cheer up,” Jun likes to tell him when he’s in one of his moods, usually throwing his arms around Minghao in a way that is almost violent. “Your soulmate is worth it, trust me.”

He can’t help but smile, whenever Jun says that.

The start of his second year in university comes as a welcome relief, because he has more distractions — classes are ramping up, he has a better position on the dance team and Soonyoung’s smaller group is gaining popularity amongst the student body (especially with Chan finally officially joining), and with his job on campus as a personal trainer he really has very little free time. With everything going on, he nearly forgets all about his desire to find his soulmate.

Until Joshua suddenly meets his, and it throws him for a loop all over again.

He remembers, distinctly, the exact moment it happened. He was sitting with Joshua and Jeonghan and Chan in an empty classroom, studying together for separate classes. Josh had been in the middle of writing something when they all suddenly heard a blast of music — unintentional, obviously, as it was paused quite suddenly — from down the hall. Except, when the rest of them heard silence, Joshua bolted up out of his seat, nearly upending the desk.

“Everything okay, Josh?” Chan asked, and Jeonghan had smiled knowingly, barely lifting his gaze from his Biology textbook.

“It’s his soulmate,” Jeonghan said, and Joshua nodded, stunned, and Jeonghan had laughed and pushed at his back. Minghao’s heart sunk just a little, even as he saw a smile bloom across everyone else’s faces.

“Go find them, then.”

And he had.

Minghao feels guilty getting jealous of Josh, because he knows that he’s waited a long time, longer than Minghao, but he still wishes he knew his soulmate. Ever since he turned eighteen, it’s felt like there was something missing, and he hates it. Everyone reassures him that his time will come soon, but he can’t help but be self-conscious.

However, it’s because of this that he starts to pay more attention to his string — and, because of that, notices the fact that it’s changing. Not in form, or color, but in its tension; his soulmate, at times, appears to be drawing closer, even though he can’t see them.

It makes his heart leap up into his throat the first time he sees it, and he can’t help but pay even more attention after that.

But it takes two weeks for anything to really happen — and he almost wishes nothing had.

The paths through campus are full of students trying to savor the last vestiges of summer warmth, walking to or from dinner or just as a break from studying. The leaves are slowly turning gold, and the lamps scattered intermittently along the paths as the sun is setting make the whole campus look more like a movie set than a real place.

Minghao, personally, is in a bit of a rush (Soonyoung’s dance practices are brutal, and he’s not in the mood to do extra work for being late because he has a paper to write tonight), barely paying attention to where he’s going.

“I swear, sometimes I think these professors—” Jun’s statement is interrupted by Minghao bumping into him, trying to avoid being hit by a girl who happened to be nearly run over by a cyclist. His hands end up on her shoulders, holding her steady and out of danger, as he shoots the cyclist a dirty look they don’t catch.

“So much for staying on the right side of the path,” he thinks he hears her mumble, before she’s suddenly turning towards him, pulling away.

“Sorry,” she says, hurriedly, bowing her head, and disappears quickly into the crowd.

Minghao can’t help but stare after her, heart lodged strangely in his throat, feeling nervous for a reason he can’t place. She had pretty eyes, he thinks, but that’s all he really noticed.

“Hey, you okay?” Jun asks, tugging at his arm to keep him moving, and—

“No,” Minghao breathes, catching sight of his hand.

The string is gone.

“What?” Jun asks, “What do you mean it’s gone?” Minghao doesn’t comprehend whether he’s thinking or speaking aloud, looking frantically backwards to try and see her — his soulmate — again, but she’s long gone. Everybody keeps moving, Jun included, trying to tug him out of everyone’s way, and Minghao feels like he can’t breathe.

He hadn’t even been paying attention to what she looked like, he barely saw her, the only thing he can remember is that she had eyes that sparkled in the most cliché way, and now she’s gone.

Jun drags him off to practice, but Soonyoung sends him home after he nearly stumbles into one of the mirrors, distraught and unfocused.

He finally met his soulmate, but he has no clue who she is.

You know who your soulmate is, and you have for the past two hours.

You hadn’t realized it immediately — you had been more concerned with getting to your meeting with the advisory board on time than checking to see if you’d met your soulmate after almost getting run over by a bicyclist — but the moment you could finally relax, you saw it.

Or, rather, you didn’t see it.

After getting your plan for your major approved by the board, you had immediately gone to your room and flopped down onto your bed, exhausted after the anxiety of the afternoon. However, that plan didn’t last long, as the absence of your soulmate sign instantly sent you into a tailspin.

You thought through the events of the day, and realized there was only one person it could be — one person you met that you hadn’t ever met before, and who had, coincidentally, made physical contact with you.

Your soulmate is Xu Minghao, and the thought alone is terrifying.

Minghao is more popular than he probably realizes, and definitely more popular than you. Soonyoung’s dance team is legendary, despite being a bit more underground in terms of appearances — and you know all about them, thanks to your friend being a dance major who simultaneously happens to be one of their biggest fans. And, her personal favorite member of the troupe? The insanely talented, highly attractive sophomore, Xu Minghao.

You wonder how you didn’t notice before, but she has all the answers for you immediately after a small freak out over the phone — Minghao’s eighteenth birthday occurred in November, and you left to study abroad for your second semester just after the winter break. Your birthday wasn’t until July, and so you hadn’t seen the string yet.

You had missed him, barely, and it just felt all the more frustrating knowing you had missed him again.

“Go to one of his performances!” Your friend suggested, and at the time you had shook your head at her over FaceTime and pressed your arm over your eyes. You could feel a headache coming on, like the world was spinning too fast around you, and you suddenly just wanted to sleep.

“I-I can’t think about this right now, I need… I need to take a minute.” She had pursed her lips, and had only agreed to let you go under the condition that you two talk about it in the morning.

And yet, thirty minutes later, here you are, unable to relax at all. Her suggestion rings through your head, and you try to imagine how it might go, approaching someone like him out of nowhere and claiming you’re his soulmate.

It’s daunting, but you find yourself pulling up the university event calendar anyways—

It’s going to be a long two days until that performance.

He sees you.

You don’t know it, but he does. You go to the recital, wearing a little more makeup than usual and the cutest outfit you can wear without looking overdressed — and when the moment comes, you choke.

Because he may be your soulmate, but he’s also Xu Minghao, and he dances like nothing in the world could stop him and looks beautiful doing it, and you can barely manage a simple waltz. He’s beautiful, and talented, and amazing, and you two are so different that you can’t help but wonder if he’ll even believe you when you tell him. How on earth could Fate see this as an even match?

You almost wish you had asked your friend to come with you, because when the performance ends you’re already so nervous you can feel your arms shaking, and then you see the crowd around Soonyoung’s team.

There’s so many people, all vying for their attention, and you can’t seem to make yourself move — all you can do is stare at Minghao and try and force yourself to breathe—

It isn’t working, and so you bolt before you can fall into full-out panic, and spend the night crying angrily in your dorm room while your friend tries to comfort you.

He sees you, but, for the second time, you missed your chance.

He sees someone. Standing at the edge of the crowd, not coming but not going, looking stiff. He isn’t always the fan favorite, and usually it’s Hoshi who tends to be regarded with this sort of tension and anxiety, but now it’s Minghao. As soon as he can spare a moment, he glances up to try and get their attention, maybe to wave—

But the moment he finds them, they turn to leave, except they aren’t just anyone — it’s her, it’s you, his soulmate, walking away from him again.

Minghao feels as though he has tunnel vision, suddenly, and he starts towards you as you bolt out the door only to be stopped by the audience members still surrounding him, trapping him. He feels helpless, desperate and spinning out of control, just like the last time he saw you. He turns his head to find Jun, or anyone, to ask them for help—

And then, suddenly, it hits him:

His soulmate just ran away from him. The thought alone makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He goes back to his dorm that night and stares up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, running his fingers over the space on his pinky where his string should be, and trying desperately not to cry.

Even time can’t seem to make him feel much better about it, in all honesty, but midterms are rapidly approaching and Minghao is too concerned with keeping tabs on his studies and his roommate’s health to think much about it. The testing comes as a welcome relief for him, though at times he finds himself glancing down at his hand and his stomach drops at the empty space that greets him.

He thinks about all the time he spent waiting on his soulmate, and it makes him sad. But, somehow, he doesn’t feel bitter. Fate works in mysterious ways, and he’s certain his soulmate has a reason, big or small, for not approaching him. Frustrating as it is, Minghao turns back to fate the way he always has, and simply trusts the universe to sort things out.

It’s really all he can do.

You still feel guilty every time you think about that dance performance, a pit growing in your stomach. It took you days to simply get yourself back to eating regularly, swallowing your own bundled nerves so that you could fuel yourself during your study sessions. Most days you spent either in class or locked in a study room (the one with the most sunlight, so you didn’t go completely insane), determined to prove through examinations that the advisory board made the correct decision in approving your major proposal.

Although you feel bad, you simply don’t have time to dwell on it; though, sometimes, you think of Minghao and think it’s a pity he’s stuck with such a busybody for a soulmate. Too busy and too anxious to approach him.

You lose some sleep over the thought, but eventually you push down your emotions enough to rest, and life goes on as usual.

Luckily for the both of you, fate does happen to plan for everything, and on a blustery Friday evening when Minghao ought to be studying, he finally finds you.

He actually only leaves the dorms for Jun and Jeonghan’s sake, as the both seem on the verge of collapse when he leaves. They’ve both been working hard at studying, but they’re also both too tired from it to move. Minghao had only left when Seungcheol pressed some money into his hand and practically begged him with his big, puppy dog eyes to go get them some coffee.

And now, here he is, waiting for a nine-drink order (he’s grateful it isn’t the usual thirteen, really, especially because Seungkwan always has the most extravagant orders and he doesn’t have the patience for it, and Jihoon is just a terror; Hansol and Soonyoung just happen to be busy, which is also fine with him) and scrolling idly through his phone. He likes a picture of Joshua and his soulmate that comes through his feed, closing the app when his name is called, only to crash directly into someone.

After studying for days on end, it can’t be said that you’re in your best state of mind. You had moved to the cafe to study in the hopes that a change of scenery would up your spirits, but all it had led to was you consuming a copious amount of coffee, and highlighting more and more pages in your notes.

It happened as you were carrying your third refill away from the station with sugar packets and milk — out of nowhere, someone suddenly stepped into your path, causing you to collide with them. You placed your hand up around the rim of your mug as a barrier, stumbling directly into the mysterious person’s chest as the coffee scorched your hand. You couldn’t help but let out a hiss at the pain, and looked up, fully prepared to give whoever this guy was a piece of your mind—

“Oh my god,” you say, instead, because the person holding you steady is none other than your soulmate himself, the same as when you first met him, and you cannot believe this is happening today of all days, and like this of all ways. He just keeps staring, and you scramble to form a coherent sentence past the lump in your throat, uncertain of what to do with your hands, or your eyes, or your legs turned to jelly because of the intensity of his gaze.

“I— oh my god, I’m so sorry, wow, this, um,” you pause and take a deep breath, carefully extricating yourself from his grasp to bow your head. “I’m really sorry, you didn’t get any on your clothes, did you?”

When he doesn’t reply at first, you lift your gaze from inspecting his shirt to meet his eyes, which are still intensely focused on your face.

“Um, I can—”

“You,” he breathes, and the word alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine. You feel yourself stiffen, the grip on your mug tightening, and you wince slightly at the stinging in your palm.

“It’s you,” he says, and suddenly he’s close to you again, close enough you can feel the warmth radiating off of his chest and onto your skin. It’s then, you realize, that he knows — that maybe he’s known the whole time, and you’ve just been dodging each other — and under his eyes you can’t help but feel nervous, aware of every stray strand of hair falling from your bun and the spot on your cheek that had cropped up just this morning from stress. You feel your cheeks grow hot, and you find yourself looking down, wishing you could sink into the floor.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have said something sooner, I just— I was too nervous to talk to you, because you’re you, and I know it sounds stupid but—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupts, and you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s smiling now, and there’s such a tenderness in his gaze that it makes you feel like you could melt. It’s almost as though you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, or the only one he’s ever cared to see, and your heart skips a beat seeing the way his eyes reflect his happiness.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m finally meeting you,” he continues, and then, shaking his head slightly, as if to wake himself from a daze,

“Your hand, is it okay?”

“What?” You ask, still lost in his eyes. He laughs and it melts your heart, warmth spilling out from your chest all the way down to your toes.

“You spilled coffee on your hand, let me see.” You do, and you try not to wince when his finger grazes over the most sensitive patches of skin. It doesn’t look terrible, just faintly red, but when you try to close your hand it hurts — taking notes suddenly seems like a daunting task, and you can’t help but grimace.

“You should put your hand under some water, just not too cold. Then it should be fine,” he says, but his smile alone seems to take away all the pain. Minghao lets go of your hand, taking your mug from you and setting it on the counter.

You realize this is his way of telling you to go take care of your hand now, and so you gesture to the table in the corner you’ve been occupying for the last two hours,

“Um, my stuff is there, so…” He nods, laughing again, and you excuse yourself before you can make even more of a fool of yourself.

When you emerge from the bathroom, Minghao is nowhere in sight, but the mug on your table is refilled, and under it is a napkin bearing the message:

Sorry I had to run. Promise I’ll make it up to you ;) your soulmate (xxx)-xxx-xxxx

You press your hands to your face, trying to simultaneously hide and cool your blush, before taking out your phone to text Minghao.

Fate works in mysterious ways; this, he knows, is a fact. He casts yet another glance in your direction, unable to keep the smile off of his face. You look up, as if you can feel his gaze on you, and you smile, too; the blush that had appeared so readily on your first official meeting is less prominent now, but nevertheless present, and Minghao can’t help but smile a little wider every time he sees it, knowing he’s the cause.

“What?” You ask, and Minghao simply shakes his head, reaching out to grab your hand from across the table.

“Nothing,” he says, resting his chin in his other palm, still looking up into your face. “Just thinking about how Jun was right.” You simply shake your head in response, turning back to your notes,

“He usually is,” you tease, and Minghao squeezes your hand. He may not always agree with that sentiment, he thinks, but this time — this time, he definitely does.

And he couldn’t be happier.

#the8 #the8 imagines #the8 scenarios #the8 writing #the8 texts #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen texts #seventeen writing #kpop fanfiction #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop texts #kpop imagines #My writing

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a-walk-in-silence · 6 years

Text

Summertime Melodies

Pairing: Peter Parker x college!fem!reader

Word Count: 1,478

Summary: Peter and the reader were friends their last year of high school but were split apart when you traveled to California for college. However, since it is summer, you’ve decided to head back home to Queens to surprise her friend in all of the things she’s learned.

Genre: Fluff, fluff, all the fluff.

Warnings: Barely edited so there’s probably a few mistakes, to dang much fluff, musical references ‘cuz I’m a major musical nerd so honestly? I’m sorry but also not so lol

Prompt: “I didn’t know you could sing like that”

A/N: This is for @madmadmilk and her 5k summer celebration writing event! Any criticism is appreciated but only constructive stuff, got it? Got it. Okay, moving on!

Song Links:

All That Matters

Sylvia’s Lullaby

Key:

Y/N - Your Name

L/N - Last Name

Y/N/N - Your Nickname

After leaving for college, you had to admit, you missed your friends like crazy. Peter and Ned and MJ, even Liz (although you two did have a small quarrel sophomore year over the notorious Peter Parker). However, you were exhilarated to finally get to come home for summer and leave your performing arts college.

Considering how you wanted to keep this trip a surprise, you only told your mother and May Parker. You wanted to make sure that Peter, seeing as how he became your best friend in your senior year of high school, would be completely unaware of the fact that you were coming home. So, to do this, you had to tell Aunt May so that she could make sure to keep him busy throughout the day.

And thus, you were now sitting on a crowded airplane at LAX, ready to take off and head to Queens, armed only with two suitcases and a carry-on bag. Most of your possessions would be staying in Los Angeles, but you made sure you had enough to get you through these next four weeks.

While up in the air, you messaged Peter over Facebook.

Y/N L/N: Peterrrrrrr :(

Peter Parker: Hey Y/N/N, what’s up?

Y/N L/N: Are you sure you can’t come visit me in LA? Your promised :(

Peter Parker: I’m sorry... May and I don’t have the money and I don’t want to ask Mr. Stark to send me all the way to Cali

Y/N L/N: Ughhhhh but you didn’t even show up for my performance! You missed seeing me as Sylvia in Finding Neverland!

Peter Parker: I’m sorry! I tried to make it Y/N/N! I swear!

Peter Parker: But in all fairness, you never sent me that video recording that you promised

Y/N L/N: The files too big! You’ll need to watch it in person, like on my laptop or sth

Y/N L/N: Well, I guess there’s always next performance... so much for a best friend :(

Peter Parker: I’m sorry...

Y/N L/N: Whatever, I gtg so I’ll message you later, ok Spider-Boy?

Peter Parker: Okay, see you later!

Peter Parker: Also stop calling me Spider-Boy! The spider stuff is supposed to be a secret!

You laughed at his last minute remark before you put your phone away and took out your iPod, choosing to listen to music to pass the time until you landed in New York.

Once you were off the plane, your quickly found your mom waiting for you by the luggage claim area. The two of you ran over and hugged each other tightly.

“I’ve missed you my darling angel!” your mother shouted, drawing attention to the two of you. “Look at my little muffin! You’ve grown so much since I’ve seen you!”

“Mom!” you shouted, cheeks burning bright red. You quickly pushed her away before going to collect your luggage. You glanced down at your phone to see that you missed several text messages from Peter’s aunt.

May: I’ve got Peter running errands!

May: When do you land?

May: Where are we meeting again?

May: Are you on the plane? Is that why you’re not answering?

May: Hmm... maybe I should text your mother...

May: Why am I still texting you?

May: So any way, Peter and I are heading out to a restaurant in the Bronx, I’ll text your mom the info!

You rolled your eyes, smiling at how excited May was to have you back home, so much so that she still continued to spam your phone despite the fact that you were clearly on a plane. Deciding it was best to answer her, you did so.

Y/N: Hey! I’m on my way there now! Just gotta grab my luggage and head out!

Before you could even turn the screen off, you got a response from May.

May: Hurry! Peter’s starting to get suspicious of why we’re just sitting at a restaurant, waiting to order

Y/N: OMW!

You turned to your mother, who happened to grab your suitcases for you. “Hey, May’s freaking out, we gotta head to that restaurant.”

“Sounds about right. Let’s get going.”

The two of you pulled up to the restaurant. The moment your mother parked, you practically jumped out of the car, barging straight into the restaurant. Your eyes landed on Aunt May who was motioning with her eyes for you to come over. Peter, meanwhile, had his back to you.

You silently walked over to the table, trying your hardest to not make a sound. However, you didn’t pause to think about the fact that Peter had his spidey-senses (as you affectionately referred to them as), which caused him to literally jump out of the booth and turn to look at you.

“Y/N?” His voice was filled with shock as he took you in. Suddenly, you were pulled into his arms in a very tight hug. “You’re here! You’re here! I can’t believe you’re actually- wait!” He pushed you away, suddenly glaring. “You were making me feel bad for not visiting knowing that you would see me! You’re mean!”

You giggled softly, reaching out to ruffle his curly brown curls. However, he leaned away, pouting at you. “Peter, I had to! I couldn’t let you know I was visiting!”

He huffed before sitting down. He motioned for you to join him. “Fine, but I won’t forgive you until I get to see that recording of you performing.”

“Deal.” You smiled brightly at him before joining him in the booth to order food.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” Peter said in amazement, watching your performance on his laptop. You giggled, causing him to look up from the screen. “No, I mean it. You sound amazing! Why weren’t you in any of the school plays at Midtown? You would have surely been the lead with those vocals!”

You simply shrugged, pausing the performance so the two of you could talk. “I was shy. It took getting accepted into this crazy school in LA to actually open up about singing in public. And then I was cast as the lead in Finding Neverland and I just... That’s why I wanted you to come visit me, you big ol’ nerd.”

Peter smiled up at you. “You should sing right now.”

His request gave you pause. You never really performed one-on-one unless it was an audition, and even then, auditions usually had a few other people involved. “I’m sorry?”

“Please?” he begged, his brown eyes getting big and his mouth forming a small little pout. “I want to hear you perform in person.”

“What would I even sing?” you asked, watching as his face contorted into his silly little thinking face.

A light bulb must have gone off in his head as he turned his attention back to the computer that had the professional recording of your musical on it. “The song you were just singing. What was it called?”

“Sylvia’s Lullaby? All That Matters? Which one? They do happen back to back, ya know.” Once again, he started thinking, hard. You laughed, causing him to lose concentration. He gave you a questioning stare, causing your cheeks to burn up. “Your face gets all cute when you’re thinking.”

It was now Peter’s turn to turn bright red, his eyes turning away from your face. “Y-You should... u-um... All That Matters. Yep, that sounds... um, pretty good.”

You subconsciously leaned closer to Peter, brushing a curly strand from his face. “Yeah... okay...” you mumbled, watching as he turned to look at you.

Before you knew it, he had a hand cupping your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “Hey Y/N?” he asked softly, staring into your eyes.

“Hmm?” you hummed, your eyes never leaving his.

“C-Can I, um... ya know... I just think that maybe, um... maybe we could... kiss?”

You laughed as he stuttered over his words before nodding. “Yeah, I think that would be nice.”

A huge smile broke out over his features before he captured your lips with his own in a sweet and indulgent kiss. However, it was over much to soon for the both of you.

Before he could pull away entirely, you pecked him on the cheek before pulling back completely to start the video again. You cuddled up into his side, smiling up at him. “You know, I’m starting to think coming back for the summer was a smart idea.”

He laughed at you and kissed the top of your head. “You should sing for me.”

“I’ll sing for you every day if that’s what you want.”

He hummed in response before once again focusing his attention on your show that was playing on the laptop. You sighed happily to yourself, imagining all the summertime melodies you would perform for him.

Tags:

@starksparker @madmadmilk @thedaydreamingwriter

#madmadsummer #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker headcanon #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagine #spider-man headcanon #spider-man #marvel #spider-man homecoming #userkavvy

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