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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years ago

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Putting aside the murder mystery, do you think Chekhov’s Sicilians might be likely? Marigold acts like there’s a big problem, and besides Drago, they’re the only third party that’ve been mentioned at this point, and it feels like we’re a good way into the story.

this might be a bit of a stretch, but I got curious and looked it up. Drago is an Italian surname, but is apparently most frequent found in the country of Malta, an island close to Sicily… he seems pretty lawful good, but that doesn’t necessarily rule out some kind of connection.

i think we can have it all, i.e. i think marigold's big problem could be related to the murder mystery, since mordecai went from "well i wish i knew what marigold's big problem was" to "i am going to interrogate this guy marigold wants dead instead of killing him and hide this from my coworkers and get all stressed and say i probably shouldn't be doing this, in order to try to find out what marigold's big problem is, and bring up that i'm This Driven about it b/c of some perceived possible connection to the murder mystery"....plus how bobby arbogast said that "whatever's giving [marigold] the nervous twitch lately" is what's causing marigold to station agents to hang around / monitor / patrol the premises, which has caused the shootout on the lackadaisy triumvirate's end....which will presumably cause some direct conflict between marigold and lackadaisy, which is. a factor

anyways, that's to say it sure seems pretty centrally encompassing, and the Murder Mystery does too, and it's at least linked in that mordecai supposing it Might Be connected is making him act up and increase stakes, conflicts, possibilities, etc

to finally get around to an answer: yeah, i was kinda getting at a chekov's sicilians theory lmao, since like you say, they and drago are the only specified third or fourth parties out here, And that with any Mystery thread it doesn't hurt to be on the alert for anything that's touched on that you might go "huh, weird" or "huh, that sounds like something that Could be important" but then is kind of glossed over, or some other specific element of it is focused on instead, which in this case, is the focus on exploring a specific flashback / talking about the history between the arbogasts' funeral home and atlas / lackadaisy / viktor (& mordecai)....and it's a speculative leap to go "like, mafia?" but it's not as though that'd be so irrelevant when the general topic here is prohibition. but, whoever they are, they could still be Out There, active and relevant to the story. could've been after atlas, marigold, or both

drago's truly a mystery as well, still....his lawful goodness could sure be either "i love cops, let's keep it honorable lads ha ha" or else "i hate cops, i'm just infiltrating the treasury department, i'll help you keep cash from them / get phonecalls to potentially get out of here"....sure can't nail down naming conventions as hard evidence lol like catch us going "pretty Romantic name you've got there, horatio bruno, if you catch our drift" anti-italianly microaggressing the lackadaisy doorman, or "and they say [politicians] with [maltese-american] can't become [u.s. secretary of transportation]"....but there's the added reason to question drago of how like, gracie's saying that he never had any real info to provide, but that didn't seem to bother them, Like They Just Like Hearing Me Talk....what's the good of having informants in the periphery of marigold? setting up a really long con infiltration, having them keep checking in just so you know they're still there, and hoping it's now easier to plant people a little deeper and get Any Real Info? i'm not rhetorically asking lol, maybe there Is some high-profile treasury department raid Straightforward Explanation in it, but it's hardly guaranteed....

at this time in writing things out i went off and had an exasperating experience lmao, let's see if i can get back into the swing of things. okay, so. walking through a theory that [drago is in turn a plant at the treasury dept] it's like....for whom? so far, like you say, we don't exactly know of any non marigold / lackadaisy (or non feds) parties besides Some Sicilians. could be an as yet undisclosed fourth party. or some personal agenda of his lol. and he seems interested in marigold, and uninterested in lackadaisy....with the feds going through all this trouble with informants for no obvious benefit yet, and marigold going through all this trouble with those same informants for no obvious benefit yet, in that mordecai notes it Should Be ultimately more lucrative to keep them on & pay off some parties than kill these dues-paying people....and gracie saying he's never been able to give any useful info as that informant. if it's not about the info (or isn't it???) or not about the money (or isn't it???) then. then it would be about different things lmfao.

really have to take baby steps and go over & over some presumptions and scrutinize them....like my confusion about mordecai in the same breath seeming to be worried about "were marigold and lackadaisy at odds after all" And "does marigold know how atlas died. b/c i thought that i did" which, yknow. Might simply be interpreted, as gracie seems to interpret it, as mordecai thinking marigold killed atlas. but we know there's some other layer in whatever shared secret he has with mitzi....have to like draw out some axes here to chart like, [mordecai killed atlas: if yes, if no] and [marigold knows what happened: if yes, if no] and whether there's any fitting Explanation for each combo and what we've seen so far. going back to a thought the other day that maybe what was so [??] to mordecai is that asa warning mitzi and saying he warned atlas too implies that asa Doesn't Believe that mitzi killed atlas, even though that's the scuttlebutt, as they say. also, sidebar, shoutout to gracie's humor in duress out here lol, in times like these i guess all you can do is laugh....anyways. it's like, if mordecai's concern is "i hope nobody knows i killed atlas"....if he's worried that Marigold knows that, i'm not sure it makes sense: so prior he'd have thought marigold believed mitzi killed atlas, but he's not acting as though he also ever thought they might kill mitzi over that. and it's not like marigold's evidently suffered after atlas's death, rather than benefitted. and, what, are they just planning to kill mordecai Eventually? idk. feels quite shaky

i'm going down the murder mystery route here to be sure lol, but hey, can't really disentangle them, and It Is My Passion....the possibility mordecai is questioning The Leadup to atlas's death / whether asa Really Did Have Something To Warn Atlas About. what does that change....mordecai Could just really really care to know. or he could be like "someone might wanna kill me, and i'm only just finding out now, and i need to ascertain this"....probably not marigold? suppose it's like, maybe anyone who wants revenge for the lodge incident. but this is evidently a lot of effort for that, And when it's like....so these people start agitating marigold overall, while mordecai's kept in the dark about things, instead of marigold just tossing him overboard to deal with it? unless, of course, this is just a reignited conflict with lackadaisy And marigold from these restored third parties....in which case, not like mordecai has much to be worried about from them directly. much like: would mordecai be very worried about a federal agent going after marigold, or after him Through marigold (though a prohibition agent would surely be more focused on the bootlegging and its central agents than even a hitman, who also only has so much info to offer (does mordecai even get to know who's higher up than asa? hardly established that he totally does))

and there's the like, timeline confusion of: say that, for whatever reason, mordecai's concern is All [marigold knows what happened re: atlas's death? they shouldn't]....asa talking about Warnings is something happening After the fact, about something that would have happened Before the fact....head in hands baja blast Musing Hard, like, god how does it figure in....if mordecai killed atlas: he wouldn't question that, only question Why [these circumstances Really came about] or Who Knows About It. if he didn't: he could question who really did, and who knows about it; apparently either way he thought marigold was uninvolved and had No Info.

wait fuck there's also the fact that mitzi thought mordecai Could have told asa something. which doesn't exactly lend itself to the idea that mordecai would live in mortal fear if he thought marigold knew anything about anything; and he sure doesn't have so dramatic an immediate reaction, even if he's willing to pull a stunt like [interrogate gracie, Who's Supposed To Be Dead]

i'm really not exaggerating that i ought to like, make charts lol. visuals would only help organize some thoughts....

speaking of visuals, i'll break up some text with this next relevant point:

there's A Pause before mordecai dismisses "let gracie pin atlas's death on marigold to his contact," such as that maybe he considered it at all for real, and the cited reason that he'd be without a real answer....even though he sure might be withholding things from gracie here / Maybe outright lying about some things, but i also doubt there's much of that, if any....Is he lookin to join the loose ends club himself over a dead man? Maybe, i.e. this is all about Emotional Motivations re: atlas (besides that potential "i'm afraid someone wants me dead" re: atlas's Death)

there's also the thought i was having that like, i think having a diable thrust upon him that provides illumination, and this scene having literal And figurative illumination, does suggest that now having this drago thread is indeed Relevant to whatever mordecai wants to ascertain out here. mysterious how, as per the last panel in which mordecai asks if they meet regularly, and where, it's suggested that mordecai plans to meet him, or at least see him from afar / undetected....but probably the former, since what tf does he learn from what he looks like? he's not doing this For marigold, and even if he was, a name's surely sufficient. but what does he think he can say to, or ask of, a prohibition agent....becoming a higher up informant? asking for information about marigold? not like drago, whether he's himself a plant or not, would just provide said info for mordecai's peace of mind....of course, it being mordecai, he could try for the [interrogation like with gracie here] route. but that'd be all the riskier, surely. try to follow him home, and go through his shit later?? is it about wanting drago's information, drago Being the information....what could any of it tell mordecai about whether marigold knows things about atlas's death....

i've been keeping [and what of the sicilians, maybe] in mind while i've been going through these other thoughts, lol, just haven't found any places where it seems Obvious they'd fill in some potential missing detail. let's say they've been bearing down on marigold: mordecai talks of paltry competition, and is hypothetically bringing up [could marigold warning of competitors mean they know how atlas died??] like....how's it figure in. supposing they're bearing down by going the "we can do a federal raid, with plants," couldn't they do it just as, or more easily with just the nonplanted federal agents? how would that factor in to anyone knowing more about atlas's death than they should....the feds take him out to simplify some shit; marigold's ceo is worried about the same fate?? while the one informant mordecai's talked to is saying he never had good info for his contact, mordecai might not even know who he works for, mordecai might be on the right track by now knowing Of drago....waugh. or trying on: the sicilians are working With marigold, marigold's insulating b/c why?? lord.

mordecai shoots atlas, asa having warned atlas of anything beforehand makes him question if asa knows how atlas died....how? just b/c he doesn't assume mitzi killed atlas? mordecai didn't shoot atlas, knows mitzi was't even there when atlas died, it was a private affair, asa warned atlas of something and mordecai's questioning if that means asa knows what happened to atlas, which mordecai Thought was a private affair....

now trying to follow that latter [okay, suppose mordecai didn't shoot him either] idea further: suppose that mordecai Knows mitzi didn't kill atlas because mordecai was with mitzi at the time. and was told something by atlas such that he thought he knew what was going to happen to atlas, and didn't himself question this after atlas died....i'm embracing this idea that mordecai is all riled up on his Professionalism b/c his involvement in atlas's death is such that he did whatever he did b/c atlas asked it of him (generous phrasing on my part) as a Professional request. or order. so now mordecai's alllll about citing his Professional Approach; he does it at the end of his proper introduction, even. maybe atlas's "do it for the professionalism" directive was about mordecai protecting mitzi for him instead of atlas, as he usually did as that apparent semi bodyguard. maybe it was about That, but also about protecting mordecai, in a "i'm absolutely going to be killed; as my right hand bodyguard man you'll be caught up in that; so go protect mitzi instead. that's an order XD but really, it is :I"....whether That's what mordecai Blames mitzi for, damnit if he wasn't married to you he wouldn't have sent me to protect You from [whatever threat] instead and i would of stopped it, rip to atlas's self-defense abilities but i'm different

why would mitzi hand mordecai, gunman, a gun in that case....he probably has his own?? or maybe he doesn't, it was too short notice (unlikely....). or maybe it was mordecai handing mitzi a gun, instead, for good measure.

to be sure, atlas being like "the [threat] are after me, imminently. mordecai, go bodyguard my wife instead, as my loyal and Professionally Committed employee who's really good at that and i wouldn't trust anyone else haha get outta here" and mordecai doing so, grabbing onto that Professionalism with both hands such as to have a death grip even now, resenting mitzi for atlas's death (b/c mordecai couldn't be present, though he thinks he knows how it happened) has given me a pang....Possible, though still has weaknesses like "what would the [threat] be such that mordecai considers it to have been a private affair if he didn't shoot atlas himself (which, if he did, i'm also embracing the theory of: it was also at atlas's Professional Request / Order)" / "what would be bearing down on atlas with enough short notice / Certainty that he couldn't manage to avoid his own death despite seeing it coming at all, even if he sent his best bodyguard elsewhere"

whether atlas was slowmo diving in front of a bullet for mitzi here (figuratively), which, who would be going directly after her? doesn't seem like the kind of thing that would be phrased as Mitzi's culpability/fault....and, i dunno, if it was obvious that atlas died To Save Mitzi / Lackadaisy overall, mordecai might be devoted to either party. certainly atlas didn't request it of mordecai outright; while mitzi doesn't act like "oh i have to keep lackadaisy up & running For Atlas," rather than that she knows maybe it'd be better to close, but she's kinda doing it for Possibility still / old times' sake....makes most sense that of course atlas died Because of lackadaisy, but he didn't like refuse to take some approach in which he Could've Lived to instead die to better ensure its continuation. if that makes sense.

mentally rotating everything furiously, i'm reluctant to wrap up any of these posts as if i'm bound to just suddenly Solve That Mystery, what's new scooby doo....musing on the possible chekov's sicilians again for good measure....how much changes if mordecai thinks that marigold knows who killed atlas, and he doesn't? that he wants to Know if marigold Knows? that he wants to find out and get revenge on whomsoever it was, supposing in this case, of course, it wasn't himself? that maybe atlas lied to him about who/what was threatening him, whether or not he was then like "professionally shoot me" or "professionally leave me and make sure nobody shoots my wife, who isn't even living with me at this time, things have visibly deteriorated"....

augh it's quarter to one a.m. all of a sudden and i've mostly just talked about the murder mystery some more lol. but it's a "yeah maybe" from me re: your original question lmfao. and a standing invite to any and everyone to muse on this mystery with me / send insights/ideas

#lackadaisy #the theoretical Scene of [mordecai and mitzi; connected by Personal Feelings re: atlas but otherwise an Unlikely Duo; are Elsewhere while #they know atlas might or will die; then he has] is quite the dramatic scenario #as if ''mordecai shoots atlas upon his request/order; mitzi isn't there'' wasn't dramatic enough as a theoretical scene #mitzi and mordecai murder mystery

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harryskalechips · 4 years ago

Text

one and done

A/N Hi everyone! I’m back with a one shot :) I know I don’t write as often anymore but since I’m self quarantining and I’m just about finish with high school, I thought I should try and give it another go? I’m also re starting up my jewellery business so ahhh many goals in mind but no motivation ??? Okay, I hope you guys enjoy this one!!! It is definitely a slow burn with smut but part 2? I dunno!!

Y/N and her brother’s best friend Harry, has had some pent up sexual frustration for a while. Wouldn’t it be best if they just had a one and done? you know to get it out of their system ;)

*smut includes spanking, choking, male and female receives oral, harry dom but Y/N rides, magic face cream treatment for anti wrinkling results? Yes, and what else? sub space, hair pulling, gosh I forgot please read it 😁

Word Count: 6.1k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST

“Don’t you think it's a bit of a cliché to be crushing on your brother’s best friend?” Ness teases Y/N as they walk out of her house. They were just on the steps about to go on a walk around the block. It was definitely one of their favourite things to do as the sun was just about to set.

Y/N had her butt sat on the spruced wooden steps as she ignored her best friend’s comment. First off, she knew it was a cliché. Secondly, her last encounter with him just seconds ago was already making her plan her own execution.

In her head, it was simply her just jumping out of her window multiple times until she lost consciousness. Ness on the other hand was standing up, watching the poor girl tie her laces. “Okay, I was just teasing. We can change the topic.” She lends her hand out for Y/N to take.

“It’s not just that Ness.” She gladly accepts the gesture and stands up. She wipes off her butt and glances back at the door. “I’ve never had a thing for him! Ryan and Harry have been best mates since what? 8th grade and for some reason ever since the cruise from last summer, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“It’s because he was shirtless half of the time.” Ness laughs as she hands Y/N’s water bottle to her. “Okay, we can admit it though. As a senior he is 10 times more attractive than he ever was. He looks like a frat boy that could jump my bones.” Y/N stops walking and just stares at Ness while the girl continues to walk. She grabs her hand and pulls her forward. “Okay, I’m sorry for the bad comment.”

“He is hot though. Really hot.” Y/N smiles.

“See, that’s why you should sleep with him.”

“What are you crazy? Ness, Ryan would kill me or him -maybe the both of us!”

“It’s pent up sexual frustration. Harry legit watched us walk out your door while eating a banana and you still managed to trip on your shoes.” She laughs.

“He was making eye contact with me!”

“All I’m saying is that he throws parties at his house and always invites us despite y’know us being juniors. Just offer, do it, slip out, and never say anything about it ever again.” Ness elbows Y/N as she crosses her arms.

“Maybe I will.” She laughs pretending to actually sound confident in the idea.

“Good, there’s a party this Friday anyway.” Ness shrugs her shoulders. “It’s the best remedy sis.”

“Harry, can we talk?” Y/N follows him into the kitchen while everyone else is God knows where around the house.

“Ryan is in the backyard, trying to get Cassidy back.” He barely glances at her as he pours himself a drink. He notices an empty one in her hand so he decides to pour coke in hers.

“I um wasn’t really drinking coke.” She states confusedly as she watches the bubbles in her cup dissolve.

“You think I’m trying to get you drunk at this party. One alcoholic beverage is good enough for yeh.” He smiles at her as he screws the cap shut and taps the top of her head. He was treating her as if she was a child, which definitely pissed her off since she was going to ask him a really fucked up favour in the matter of 60 seconds.

“I can handle myself, you know.”

“Yup.” He rests his back against the counter and bites the rim of the plastic cup as he looks at her. “What do you need though?” He genuinely asks her. Although they weren’t that close, Harry knew her long enough to know she wouldn’t start random a conversation with him. It was more like a hi and bye situation. Not her trying to actually talk to him.

“I have a favour and you can’t tell Ryan.” Y/N lets out a big breath as she watches his reaction change into a confused one.

“Look Y/N, if you want to try and smoke a blunt, I think it’s best you find yourself a dealer that doesn’t know your brother.”

“No, not that.” She whispers as she moves in closer. There were more people entering the kitchen and this was about to get really fucking awkward.

“What?” He looks at her and notices her body shifting closer to him. Her chest was touching the side of his arm, making his eyes look towards the cabinets instead.

“I-”

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna fu-?” His eyes widen as he downs the rest of his drink in one go. Harry doesn’t even let her continue as he steps away from Ryan’s little sister.

“I’m sorry do I already know the rest of that question?” He tries not to obviously choke on the liquid in his mouth.

“Well, I don’t know you didn’t really let me finish.” Her sassy tone comes out. Her cheeks were really red and although Y/N came to the party with Ness feeling really confident in the dress she picked. She just wanted to go home and not show her face to him ever again. This was the stupidest idea! Why on earth did she think Harry would want to sleep with her when there are so many girls that try to get his attention.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He bites the inside of his cheek and watches some familiar people leave the room. Once it’s clear again, he speaks up. “Like are you serious?” He could feel his throat becoming more stuffy. “You and me?” She nods. “Really?” She nods again. “That’s crossing the line and Ryan is pretty overprotective. I can’t do that to him.”

“Cool.” Y/N stands perfectly still as she tries her best to maintain eye contact with him. She takes a sip of the coke but later, grabs the bottle of alcohol and pours it into her cup regardless of him watching her. “Well, don’t let Ryan know.” She shrugs her shoulders and laughs. “Thanks for answering my survey!” She gives him an awkward smile then walks out of the room. How can a guy pass up on her??? First rejection has gotta sting.

This wasn’t some weird guy she was asking though. This was Harry, Ryan’s best friend. If Ness was put in his position, she wouldn’t want her to say yes either. God, she was also going to kill her best friend for putting the most ridiculous game plan in her head.

And although the party continued on, Ness and Y/N didn’t let the earlier events bother them. The two spent hours just fucking around until they found a comfy spot in the living room.

“Y/N, don’t look.” Ness sits beside her on Harry’s couch watching a few strangers play an unfamiliar game on the floor.

“What?” she quickly looks up to see what Ness is talking about. It wasn’t a surprise to see Harry holding Carla Laws’s hand as they walked up the stairs. They looked pretty excited for a room tour too.

Oh hell no, everyone knows a girl doesn’t go to Harry Styles’ room to just hold hands and a cute sentimental room tour!

“Are you sure he didn’t want to with you?”

“Yes Nessa.” She rolls her eyes and drinks her third cup. “Whatever, if anything at least I don’t feel attracted to him anymore. I found a new ick. He doesn’t even find me attractive.”

“Good. Rejection may hurt but it makes you wake up and face reality.”

Okay if there was one thing Y/N could say now, it was that she is finally over Harry. Overall, he was nothing but a phase. Yes, she was crushing on him for the first semester of the year but after that weird conversation they had, it made sense why they couldn’t work out anyway. He’s a stuck up douche - a typical senior, all while she was a junior who was either too infatuated with him or too horny. Maybe both?

It’s been about two weeks and although Ness made sure to keep trash talking the guy, Y/N knew there was more to him than what her best friend thought. She knew him for years! Maybe the fact he was athletic, charismatic and just kind that made her realize what a perfect guy he was. She knew he was a bit more complex than what other people thought of him and it wasn’t bad at all.

What she never thought was how awkward it was going to be the next time she saw him. “Hey, Haz.” Ryan opens the door for his buddy as Y/N covers herself with the blanket more all while pretending to watch TV.

For the past couple of days, Ryan was going over to his house and maybe Harry asked him too to come over, but what she didn’t expect was to see him again so soon.

“Hey Ryan.” Harry takes his jacket and boots off as it just begun to snow outside. “Hey Y/N.” She quickly glances at him and waves.

“Let’s go to the kitchen first, I wanna get snacks.” Ryan suggests as he walks away, assuming Harry would follow him like usual.

After thirty minutes, Y/N thought the boys would be upstairs but as she entered the kitchen wearing nothing but her shorts and her brother’s old t-shirt, she was surprised to see Harry and Ryan eating sandwiches at the breakfast bar, looking pretty serious. Did Harry tell him?

As she walked closer, she noticed both boys were just on their phones, scrolling through different social media platforms. She quickly brushes past them to put her dish in the sink. Ryan seemed unbothered but she could definitely feel Harry’s eyes on her. Once she makes eye contact with him, he quickly takes a sip of his juice and looks at his phone once more. “Y/N can you grab the chips in the cabinet please?” Ryan looks up at his phone and notices his sister was standing right in front of the cupboard.

“Yeah, no problem.” She turns her back on them and opens the cabinet. She goes on her tiptoes reaching for the only bag of chips. Once she grabs them, she puts them on the counter and walks out of the room, only hearing her brother murmur a thank you.

It was about 6:30 PM and the parents weren’t home yet. Ryan and Harry decided to chill in the living room when the doorbell rang. Pausing the game, Ryan opened the door to see Tom standing in front of him. “Y/N it’s for you!” He calls out for his sister since he knew Tom was her friend.

“Who’s that?” Harry mouthed.

“Her boyfriend.” Ryan shrugs as he unpauses the game.

“Tom? What are you doing here?” Y/N walks down the stairs, pulling her shirt down.

“Vanessa told me to come by. Apparently you need help with the calculus homework? I’m free tonight anyway.” He smiles and gives her a hug. Tom was a really good friend of Ness and Y/N. He was a smart boy that was really kind and obviously had a big crush on Nessa. There was anything he could do for her.

Y/N instantly bit her cheek and laughed as she remembered Ness’ text message a couple of hours ago when she told her Harry came by. This was definitely one of Ness’ master plans. “You’re so sweet.” She pulls away and laughs. “We can go upstairs, I have a few questions to ask.” She quickly glances at her brother who doesn’t care all while Harry tried his best to maintain his eyes on the screen.

“Y/N, Put some shorts on!” Ryan finally yells out as the two went up the stairs.

“I don’t get why he throws parties every weekend.” Ness takes a sip of her drink as they sit inside Harry's dining room. They probably weren’t going to stay too long. Everyone was inside due to the cold weather with the occasional smokers outside. Being the only few juniors, there wasn’t much the girls could do other than loiter around, drink a few cups and play the games they knew so well. Y/N wasn’t the type to have random hook ups but you know her exception with Harry.

“Gemma has gone off for college and Anne is always working really late shifts at the hospital. He’s pretty much anywhere and everywhere besides his house unless it’s a party.”

“True.”

“I’m going to say bye to my brother then we can head back to mine if you want?” Y/N offers as Nessa nods and downs her drink.

“I’m going to drink a cup of water. Meet you at the front?”

“Mhm.” They both stand up and leave the room. Nessa was heading straight to the kitchen while Y/N began to wander around the house.

“Y/N.” Harry calls out her name over the music. He was wearing a while long sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned. It made him look really attractive which almost made Y/N lose her breath.

“Hey Harry, You know where Ryan is?” The only typical thing she would ever ask him before that one time. (Pretending as if she didn’t sexually harass him last time.)

“He’s downstairs with the rest of the boys.” He glances around at everyone and looks at her once more. “I’m sorry, are you um- leaving?”

“Yeah me and Nessa are going to call it a night.” She wraps her hoodie around her figure and tries to make her way to the stairs.

“Want me to give you girls a ride?”

“No no, it’s okay!” She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Nessa drove. You also have a party to h-”

“It’s kind of late maybe she should head home and we can-” And that’s when it hit her. Was Harry Styles trying to isolate her?

“Oh.” She widens her eyes and slowly nods. “Okay. I’ll let my brother and Ness know. Should I meet you in your car outside?”

“Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair and quickly leaves her side. After bidding her farewell to Ryan and explaining her interpretation of Harry to Ness, she was quietly leaving the house as she watched Nessa walk by herself to the car down the street. What surprised Y/N more was to see him in his brown jacket standing by the passenger door.

“Did you tell Ryan I was dropping you off?” He nervously smiles as he opens the door for her. He makes sure no one is watching them leave together as he feels the butterflies forming in his stomach.

“No.” She puts her hood on and sits in his car. She was picking on her stockings trying to avoid the awkward tension between them. Once Harry sat inside and they both put their seatbelts on, they were on their way to her house. It was weird knowing she was actually leaving a party with her brother’s best friend so she could suck his-

“What happens if they notice you’re gone?”

“Um, I’m sure they’ll think i'm elsewhere doing stuff.” She knew what he was thinking about and that made her a bit uncomfortable but it didn’t change the fact it was true.

“Are you still down to y’know?” Harry honestly never thought he would be this nervous talking to Ryan’s little sister.

“Yeah.” She bites her lip as they glance at each other.

“Cool. Are you like a virgin or something. I mean is there anything that I should know about?”

“No.” She shakes her head and low-key observes how he drives.

This was going to be one hell of a night.

Harry has seen Y/N’s room a countless number of times but to actually be with her by themselves in Ryan’s house made him feel really guilty. That guilt however, was shoved in the back of his throat. The girl in the room with his was obviously the best distraction. “I like your room.” he smirks at her as he looks at her soccer trophy collection from grade school.

“Thanks.” She laughs lightly as she takes off her jacket. She quickly texts an update to Ness before putting the phone on do not disturb.

“So before we start, what made you ask the offer?” He takes his jacket off and throws it on her chair. He sits on her bed and glances at the time. It was still early, so people probably weren’t going to be looking for him.

“This is going to sound really dumb but I’ve had this crush on you since the cruise last summer. Well, you know Nessa... she had this thought and she thinks it is just pent up sexual frustration?” She shakes her head of saying the whole idea out loud. “So I thought maybe I should just get it out of my system.” Harry laughs as he takes in of what she just said. it made her smile as well.

“You were checking me out all summer?” He asks her in disbelief. “Little Y/N wanted to jump my bones?” He started to smirk at her. Although they didn’t know each other too well, the awkward tension was gone with just one simple laugh of his.

“Stop laughing.” She throws a pillow at him. “I didn’t think you would say no.”

“I didn’t want to say no Y/N are you crazy? I’m laughing because I kept checking you out in those tiny bikinis you used to wear.” He throws the pillow to the side and shakes his head. “I don’t want to cross Ryan like that but I think i need to get you out of my system too.”

“Mhm and why’s that?” She locks her door and sits on the bed with him. “Because Carla couldn’t distract me from seeing you in my sheets.” He leans in and kisses her. “Tom coming by a few days ago with you wearing nothing but those little shorts was already making me lose my mind.” He whispers and kisses her again.

Y/N immediately sits on his lap while trying her best to keep his mouth on her’s. Everything about this was so hot. She was about to just rip his clothes off.

“One and done yeah?” Y/N rubs herself on him as her fingers tangle themselves in his hair. He kisses down her neck while grabbing her ass.

“One and done. Just to get you out of my system.” He confirms with her as he gently throws her on the bed. He’s pulling his long sleeve off and taking his shirt off but once he begins unbuckling his jeans, he couldn’t help but notice Y/N trying to take her shirt off as well. “Fuck.” He murmurs as he gently unbuttons her long sleeve to help her take it off. In a flash, he’s on his knees unzipping her skirt and taking her stockings off as well. “You looked really pretty tonight by the way.” His cheeks flush as he throws her bottoms behind his back. Y/N laughs quietly and she sits up and brings his face closer to hers.

“I actually would like to say the same exact thing.” He leans in to kiss her once more. Her lips were extremely soft and forbidden and it was making him slowly lose his mind all over again. Y/N thought Harry was just a phase but that seemed impossible as she was already dreading the fact this was a one and done situation.

“You’re just so fucking soft and alluring.” He whispers in her ear as he unclasped her bra. “I already know I need to fuck you hard.” Y/N eyes’ roll back as she feels his wet mouth on her nipple as the other one massaged the other. Her hands were trying really hard to focus on the task at hand which was to undo his pants but it was definitely not working with the way he was distracting her. Not a single thought could process in her mind.

“I think since this is a one and done situation, you better make this memorable.” She whispers and bites her lip as she tries to hold back a moan. His fingers were teasing her covered entrance but Harry could feel her drenched spot already clenching at his presence.

“Memorable? I’ll definitely leave my mark on you.” He sucks on her mouth more roughly than usual as he rubs his fingers on her centre. “You wanted me so bad baby? You just had to beg me huh?” He gestures his hips more forward to help her with his pants.

“I’m kind of new to this. Be a bit patient.” Y/N laughs as she gently unzips his pants after numerous attempts.

“You just ruined the moment.” He laughs with her as he kisses her forehead and takes his pants off as well. “Just kidding, this is probably the most fun I had.” He hovers over her again and teases her entrance.

“What do you mean?” She lays on her back and roams her hands all over his chest.

“Never got the chance to tease the fuck out of a pretty girl then fuck her hard.” He slaps her clit and bites down on her lip. She suddenly lets out a moan that makes her eyes flutter and her chest rise closer up to his face.

He brings two of his fingers to her mouth and slowly lets her lick on it before rimming her entrance and shoving it in without any warning. His thumb slowly rubs her swollen numb as he can’t help but rub himself on her sheets as well. “You mind if I get a little bit of a taste? I’ve been dying to know. I saw you earlier at the party and I had to jerk myself off seeing you in those little stockings of yours.”

“You. You jerked yourself off thinking about me, baby?” She looks down at him and smiles softly. He gives her a little smirk before pulling his hand away and heading his head down a bit south. His tongue dips slowly on the left side of her leg as his hands grip her thighs tightly, sure of the bruises to form soon.

“You’re like a fucking wet dream. How can I say no to you?” He urgently swipes his whole tongue on her centre. “I saw you earlier and had to go to my room.” He takes another lick. “Fuck baby, the best i’ve fucking tasted. Fuck oh fuck.” He precisely observes the way your whole swallows his fingers in and clench so tightly around him. His tongue dipping and switching with his fingers because he honestly can’t decide which is best.

“Harry, fuck me please baby.” Y/N moans loudly as she harshly grabs on her boobs. She’s never been fucked this good. It was honestly feeling like a dream. With that being said, she’s only had sex a handful of times but Harry seemed like such an expert in the field. “Oh God.” She tries to pull away. She wasn’t sure if she could continue on with Harry obsessively licking and sucking on her wet centre.

He looks up and watches her eyes roll back as her fingers begin to pull on his head aggressively. His only reflex is to spread her legs wider. After her first orgasm, Y/N lays on her back staring at her ceiling trying to catch her breath.

“Fuck me.”

“We aren’t done yet, love.” He laughs at her cuteness. He can’t remember the last time where he wasn’t rushing to finish himself off. He was taking his time with Y/N since it’s what she deserves. He lays down beside her and kisses down her chest. “Tell me when you’re ready to go, yeah?” He dips his tongue on her shoulder until it reaches the huge hickey he left on her collarbone. He gently licks around it and sucks on it again.

He was a bit surprised to see Y/N sit up and grab a condom from her drawer. “Thank you for fucking the shit out of me, I’ll gladly return the favour.” She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear as she focuses on putting the contraceptive on him. Just touching it was already forming butterflies in her stomach.

“I could’ve been fucking you on that cruise.” he mischievously smiles at her as he watches the way her pretty tits move.

“You were sharing a room with my brother.” She hisses as she holds onto his shaft trying to gently ease the pain as she fully sits on him.

“But you were alone.” He grabs onto her waist and helps her. “You’re so beautiful fuck.” He sits up on her headboard as her palms rest on his chest. Both of their eyes couldn’t help but watch the way he was easily penetrating her.

“Was touching myself because of you.” She mumbles out as her speed begins to increase.

“What did you say baby?” He almost chokes on his breath as he can feel her fully taking him in.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of you on that cruise. I needed you to rail the fuck out of me.” She moans louder as she starts to feel his hips meet her.

“Fuck me. So perfect, Shit.” He quickly turns them around and shoves himself back into her. His hand immediately tightens around her neck and once he is about to pull it away, she keeps his hand on her.

“Fuck me harder.” She cries out as his arm begins to push her legs up. He spits in between their centres before thrusting as hard as he can. All you could hear was her headboard banging against the wall as his hand continuously choked the fuck out of her.

“I bet you like getting spanked too huh?” He bites his lip and semi turns her body before slapping her ass.

“Harry fuck.”

“Come on, baby. Be a good girl and come around my cock.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Y/N cries out as her fingernails scratch his back. “Come in my mouth. I want to taste you so bad please.” tears begin to form in her eyes as she continues to clench around his dick. Harry immediately pulls off the condom and helps her sit up on her knees. She absolutely could not feel a thing below her stomach but with Harry’s hard cock in her mouth, she was already closing her eyes and trusting him with everything she was. She’s never been this fucking vulnerable, she was literally about to pass the fuck out.

She was softly holding onto his thighs but her hands found comfort on his waist as he began to fuck her mouth harder. Harry on the other hand, kept his eyes on how her mouth was taking him in. He watched the way his fingers wrap around her hair tightly as he brought his hips closer and closer until he could feel her gagging on his dick. Without a warning, he immediately pulls out and spills all over her face.

“Why’d you do that?” She opens her eyes and pouts. She was pretty upset how she couldn’t taste him spill into her mouth. So her finger immediately takes a swipe of his spill and puts it in her mouth. Without hesitation, she’s taking his forming soft dick in her hands before softly licking it clean and softly sucking on his balls. She takes his shaft and swipes her cheek once more before licking the rest of his spill from his shaft.

“You’re going to make me hard again if you keep doing that baby. Might not be as nice as I was this time.”

“Maybe I want another round?” She gestures him to lie down as she continues to kiss and suck on his cock.

“Thought it was a one and done.” He softly smiles as he removes some of the hair from her face.

“How about a one and done night?”

“Deal.”

And although they thought this was crossing a line, they already knew the moment their lips touched, they wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Wait so he changed his mind!” Nessa laughs as they drive back home. “Bitch how are you at school today? I literally saw you limping at lunch.”

“Shut up.” Y/N mouth widens as she rubs her face. “I don’t know what happened okay? We said one and done but we honestly went a couple of rounds before I had to wake him up so he could drive back home.”

“But is he out of your system? Don’t get me wrong Harry’s a fine guy but like dating wise? He’s been with other girls but somehow always goes back to Carla. They’ve been like that before you and Ryan moved here.”

“Yeah, he’s out of my system.” Y/N laughs but truth be told, some nights when she can’t sleep, she’ll find herself staring at the ceiling.

“Why are you guys home so early?” Nessa asks once they step inside the house. There was a good comparison between Nessa and Ryan with Y/N and Harry. First off, Nessa literally saw Ryan as her older brother which meant they were pretty vocal towards each other. Secondly, Nessa was very comfortable at Y/N’s house almost as if this was her second home.

“Carla and Cassidy are coming over.” Ryan smirks as Harry cleans the living room behind him. “During the party last night, I may have asked if they wanted to come over for a double date game night thing. Mom and Dad are cool with it since it's a Monday which is their date night too.

“Oh have fun.” Y/N buds in and laughs. “Make sure to actually vacuum please. You don’t want the girls finding your crumbs on the carpet.” She takes her jacket off as Nessa follows behind her up the stairs. Harry obviously tried to ignore the fact, she bluntly ignored him.

“Double date? Damn, you guys really did just fuck and brushed it under the carpet.”

“It meant nothing right. So?” Y/N tries to brush off the topic as she sets her backpack down. “Why won’t you sit down?” “On that bed?” Nessa smiles awkwardly as she glances at the double bed near the wall.

“I changed the sheets.” Y/N takes her shirt off and replaces it with another loose top. She unzips her pants and wears her black tights instead.

“So should we invite ourselves to their double date?” Nessa raises her eyebrows as she lays down on the bed.

“No because it’s weird and I don’t want Harry to think I’m jealous.”

“I think you are.”

“Nope, I told you I don’t like him like that anymore and he’s out of my system.” She tries to ignore the fact, how she swallowed him without hesitation.

“Okay but wouldn’t it be better to prove to yourself you are just by being around him.” And although Y/N wanted to protest that, the two best friends ended up being invited by Ryan to play downstairs anyway.

“You girls want a refill?” Ryan sits up from the coffee table as he cleans up the empty red cups. Ness, Carla, and Cassidy wanted a new one which made Y/N go help her brother out in the kitchen.

“Are you having fun?” Ryan asks as he throws the cups in the recycling. Y/N pours the preferred drinks in the new cups as she looks up at her brother.

“Yeah, I was wondering why you invited Ness and I. Don’t you think we’re cock-blocking?”

“Harry suggested you guys hang out with us while we played games. More competition is fun y’know. Plus you and Nessa can leave whenever.”

“Oh cool. Thanks, I guess?”

“Yup.” He grabs two cups as she does. She couldn’t help but notice how Ryan suddenly started cheering. “Yeah, Styles get it! Woooo!” Y/N turns her eyes to notice Harry and Carla making out on the floor by the coffee table.

“Are you guys dating again?” Cassidy laughs as she tries not to watch them make out.

“Sure.” Carla pulls away and pecks his cheek. Nerissa was just watching Y/N’s reaction and she knew it was a bad one.

“Y/N could you walk me to the car? Appa just texted me and he’s wondering where I am. I forgot it was his birthday.” Nessa speaks up.

“Oh shit.” Y/N was clueless of her excuse. Which thankfully made her seem more genuinely in a rush to get out of the room. She sets the drinks on the table before going upstairs with Ness.

“How did you forget it was Appa’s birthday, Ness?”

“I don’t know.” She packs her things up. “Why don’t you come with me? He’s gonna blow his cake soon.”

“Oh, I don’t want-”

“Come.” And if there was one thing Y/N knew well about Nessa, it was that she wouldn’t ever forget it was Appa’s birthday, especially if she just celebrated it a couple of months ago. Without a fight to say no, Y/N immediately grabs a hoodie as they walk down the stairs.

“Ryan, I’m going to Ness’ to celebrate Appa’s birthday. I’ll be home soon before Mom and Dad comes home.”

“Oh okay.” Ryan waves at his sister as his arms rests on Cassidy’s shoulder.

“Bye guys!” Ness and Y/N wave as they both exit the house immediately. Harry stays unbothered as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Thank you for getting me the fuck out of there.”

“It’s okay. We don’t actually have to leave you know. It’s 6 PM, I can drive the car to a different neighbourhood and you can cry all about him there.”

“I love you.” Y/N begins to tear up.

“I love you too.”

“What’s Tom doing here?” Ryan’s eyes are in shock as he watches his sister hold hands with the familiar boy. What’s confusing is that Y/N went to Ness’ for a birthday.

“He just wanted to come over.” She smiles innocently as she waves hi to the same party. It was just about 7 PM and the double date duo was watching an unfamiliar movie on TV. Nessa called Tom and Y/N had to explain their situation. Although he didn’t really want to do it. He knew Y/N wanted to prove something to the Harry guy. So as long as they didn’t do anything romantic or weird that would cross his boundaries, Tom was okay with it.

“Aw, I didn’t know you were dating Thomas?” Cassidy smiles as she walks in with a bowl of popcorn. She hands it to Carla who is cuddling up against Harry on one of the sofas.

“We aren’t dating.” They both look at each other and laugh. Tom shakes his head and pulls Y/N up the stairs instead.

Once the pair is gone, the dates begin to watch their movie again. “Ryan, you really don’t care if your sister is by herself with that boy?” Carla laughs as she feeds herself and Harry popcorn.

“I’m definitely not going to interfere with that, they’re probably doing the nasty already.” His eyes widen as he stuffs more popcorn down his mouth and although, Harry was keeping his eyes on the screen, there wasn’t anything sitting well with him knowing the girl he was with on the weekend was already in somebody else’s arms.

The goal was to get each other out of their systems, why the fuck are they so jealous then?

great plan Vanessa.

Part deux ici

#harry styles angst #Harry Syles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #bestfriend!harry #Dom!Harry #one direction #one direction fanfic #onedirection one shots #one direction smut #harry styles fanfiction #frat boy harry #slowburn #cute harry #jealous!Harry #harry styles stories

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pa1nkill3r · 3 years ago

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It’s My Party [F.W]

[Pairing:] Fred Weasley x GN!Non Gryffindor!Reader, (slight) Fred Weasley x Angelina Johnson

[Summary:] Y/H has won the 1993 interhouse quidditch cup as Y/N, the house’s keeper, gleefully shoved it in their boyfriend, Fred Weasley’s face. Prideful as ever, Fred decided that he can’t be the only sore loser between the two of them.

[Warnings:] angst, Fred being immature, off canon, mentions of smut, not a happy ending, swearing, (please lmk if there’s more :)

[Word Count:] ≈1.4k

[Song:] It’s My Party- by Lesley Gore

[A/N:] please no Angelina slander. Y/H = your house. The first fic I will be posting will be ANGST?? idk what to think about this tbh but i just really want to post a fic out of the many in my drafts so let’s hope this goes alright :D

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Gryffindor’s are chivalrous. Evident in the way Fred Weasley has mastered the art of seduction as he made gallant efforts of persuading the inhospitable Y/N to be his.

Gryffindor’s are courageous, as he and his brother gave their all into their final game that would lead Gryffindor to victory. Hitting bludger after bludger and making sure they do not give Alicia Spinnet another nose bleed.

And Gryffindor’s are determined, so much so as their loss has made them into sore, sore losers.

The Gryffindor’s are pissed and Oliver Wood took to punching the soil. Harry Potter let go of his firebolt and covered his face in frustration. Angelina Johnson took the same approach, aggressively wiping sweat off her face and crouching down to her knees. Not a single damn in the world if her trousers get grubby. Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell held onto their broomsticks as they placed their foreheads on its end, frustrated tears trickling down their faces.

The sound of wood plopped down onto the dirt as Fred and George Weasley threw their beater's bats and clean sweeps aside. A deathly look splattered across their once haughty exterior.

All of their vigorous training, late nights and early mornings, all of their valiant efforts, all for nothing. They have lost.

What’s worse was that the opposing team was dripping with ecstasy rather than tears or whatever’s on Johnson’s slacks. 3 houses were beaming, but not for the house of red and gold like they wanted.

It pained Fred that they lost. It hurt him to feel angry and resentful of the prideful smile that graced Y/N’s beautiful lips. Those sweet sweet lips he kissed once, twice, a hundred times now looked so pungent. The fact that the smile he's looking at was full of mock instead of sincerity for his loss made every drop of his blood boil.

Y/N's eyebrows raised once they saw their lover, giving him a cheerful smile and a shoulder shrug. Their hand gripped onto their broom as the other held their soaking leather helmet. They shook their head in celebration, droplets of sweat shooting from the ends of their hair.

They truly looked beautiful, especially with the warm rays of sunlight gracing their skin and robes; Fred was breathless. His heart was thumping so hard from rage as his breathing was suppressed.

He didn't think losing to his partner's house ESPECIALLY if his partner is part of the competition would affect him so negatively, but it did. He wanted to feel happy for them. Genuinely happy for them. But he couldn't, or at least at that moment.

And before he knew it, Y/N was being dragged away by their teammates, whilst roars of celebration followed suit. He wouldn't have a chance to be with them alone now, and probably for the better.

The tension in the Gryffindor common room could be cut smoothly with a butter knife or Colin Creevey's safety scissors. The silence was uncomfortable and Fred's lips were all pouty, leg bouncing up and down, and arms wrapped around his torso.

His mind was clouded with rage as well as a longing to see them, to enrage them like what they did to him, he wanted them to feel how he felt the moment they gave him a cheeky smirk knowing, KNOWING how much Gryffindor wanted to win. To be the one to give their head of house the cup they utterly deserve.

He stood, grabbing a girl's wrist, "Angelina. Come with me, will you?"

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"Kind of weird not seeing you grinding on Weasley right now, Y/N." Y/N's teammate joked, making Y/N choke on their butterbeer. "Like— he looked pissed. Every one of them did. But like— I dunno, I expected more from angry Fred, y'know? Maybe like angry fucks or something?—" Their teammate continued, making Y/N chortle even harder. If there was such a thing as getting drunk on butterbeer, this would be it.

"—maybe even a heated make out session?"

"Fucking hell, why in the world are you talking about my love life? MINE?" Y/N asked light heartedly, getting a shoulder shrug and a mocking glance of their teammate's eye.

"All seriousness though, Y/N. It's weird not seeing him here. He'd still appreciate you, you know? You did amazing!"

Y/N thought about it, but knowing Fred's quick temper, he's most likely cooling down before he meets them at their house party. "He's probably just pissed off. Or maybe they’re trying to stop Wood from drowning himself again, I don't know. There's endless amounts of possibilities when it comes to Gryffindors." Their teammate nodded in agreement and went back to the usual chatting.

Every minute that passed by without Fred showing his freckled face felt like a stab in the chest. They've never ghosted him when Gryffindor won against them, why's he doing this to them now?

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"Fred?! Or is this George? OY WEASLEY? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING ME?" yelled Angelina, being dragged out by an angry red head with a face redder than his hair.

"Just trust me, Johnson." he said breathless, speed walking his way through the halls, Angelina in toe. Dragging her towards the Y/H common room.

He reluctantly took off a wire wrapped ring Y/N made for him and placed it on the pads of his fingers. "Wear this."

"Why?!" asked Angelina angrily. "What are you on about Fred? Didn't Y/N make this?!" Not answering or even giving her words a single thought, he put the ring on the nearest finger he could reach, held her hand, and made his way into the entrance.

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The party was going beautifully, just like every single one that preceded it. It was going as smoothly as a butterbeer running down a drinker’s throat. But something is wrong with the butterbeer. It hit hard. It was bitter. It was burning.

Y/N’s shoulder was tapped by the person next to them, their finger pointing towards the entrance of the common room.

Who in their right mind would put firewhisky in a place no one asked it to be in?

“This party’s beautiful! How come you don’t make Gryffindor party’s this nice?” Angelina said, fingers relaxed in the hand of Y/N’s boyfriend. The man they’ve been with since third year. Now holding onto a pretty girl’s hand instead of theirs.

And to add insult to injury, a bronze glint shone on her finger, as well as a purple bead. Angelina’s wearing his ring loosely on her thin, nimbly finger.

Y/N froze in their seat, simply staring at the two of them. They looked like they belonged together really. They really did. They looked like royalty, and every time Angelina pointed at something it looked like she was giving a wave.

It broke them. It finally broke them. The cold Y/N, the stony Y/N, the frigid fucking Y/N broke as a tear ran down their cheek. Shit. He broke them.

“Hey Y/N!” The beautiful Gryffindor chaser waved cheerfully and innocently as she spotted the beater’s partner. But they didn’t respond cheerfully back. Instead, a half empty mug of butterbeer was left at the place they once sat and a fuming Y/N walked away.

Angelina stood confused until she felt a weight in one of her hands. “What the hell, Fred?” She let go of his hand as soon as it hit her. “Are you using me to make Y/N jealous?! What the fuck is that for?!”

He didn’t answer. It was as if at that instant his once clouded mind became sober. Once drunk with rage now sober with guilt. Yeah, what the fuck was that for?

“I’m going to find them because apparently you don’t have the fucking decency to do so.” She spat to his face, taking off the ring he put on her finger, throwing it to his face, and following the sounds of sorrow.

And there the red head stood, face as pale as a ghost and as guilty as a criminal awaiting his charges, knowing, KNOWING that no one would bail him out now. Several heads were looking at him at that moment, but he couldn’t give a single fucking damn.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fic #angelina johnson #i'm scared this isn't that good but kjsdnfjbdj

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mrsmaybank · 4 years ago

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Crushing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.”

A/N: I love baby genius, season one Reid so much. I wanted to give him a soulmate. Soulmate is you: shy and also a baby genius. Okay, thanks for reading. This was honestly just for me.

CW: Implied Smut, Mild Cursing, shitty writing

“Who...Who is that?” Dr. Spencer Reid, debatably the wordiest boy Derek Morgan had ever met, was suddenly at a loss for words. Maybe it was your perfectly sculpted face, your shoes, the copy of The Kreutzer Sonata held to your chest, your chest, or maybe a mix of it all. Whatever it was, at sight of you walking through the office doors, he was stripped of his ability to speak.

“That’s JJ’s new intern.” Morgan said plainly, before noticing the completely enamored look on his friend’s face. “What, pretty boy?” Reid couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He was too busy studying every detail of your frame.

“You think she’s cute or something kid?” Morgan playfully jabbed his shoulder, Spencer’s face instantly flushing an embarrassing shade of red.

“What?!” He shrieked, “I-no! That’s not..No!” That’s a lie.

“I just..I didn’t know JJ was getting an intern.” That though, was true.

“She’s supposed to be pretty impressive. Let’s go meet her.” he started in the direction of the coffee stand, where you and JJ had begun chatting. Before Spencer could protest out of his shyness, he was being dragged along.

“Morgan,” JJ smiled, “Spence,” she nodded in his direction, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My godsent savior.” JJ beamed in your direction.

You smiled more sheepishly then you would’ve liked, muttering a “Hopefully.” that got a laugh from Morgan and a “Oh, please.” from JJ, but nothing from the man in the glasses. You did your best not to read into it.

“Derek Morgan.” the muscular agent extended his hand to shake yours, an offer you timidly but happily accepted.

The taller, lankier, younger, incredibly cute man next to him stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably with a small wave, “I’m uh, Doctor Spencer Reid, oh! Uh, you don’t have to, uh call me Doctor. No..” He shook his head, “Just Spencer is fine.” He looked at you with wide eyes that sent butterflies berserk in your stomach and swiped his tongue in between his lips that only made them go crazier. JJ had told you all about the team. About the magnificently brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, his 3 PhDs and eidetic memory, and all the other quirks you’d have to know in order to work with him, but had failed to mention how utterly hot he was. You felt a crush hijacking your system already. Dear god.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Your hands gripped your book tighter as you shifted onto your tiptoes, “I’ve heard really exceptional things.”

The conversation was set to continue, but Morgan and JJ were summoned by Hotch to the closed doors of his office. Leaving the resident genius and you starting at each other with tight lip smiles.

Spencer started first, “The Kreutzer Sonata is great.” He excitedly continued, “It uh, it actually used to be a pretty bold book to carry around. After the work had been forbidden in Russia by censors, there was actually a mimeographed version that was widely circulated. Then in 1890, the United States Post Office Department prohibited the mailing of newspapers containing serialized installments of it too. Theodore Roosevelt even called Tolstoy a-”

His enthusiasm was beyond endearing. You finished for him with a soft smile, "Sexual moral pervert.”

Spencer’s lips upturned in a smile. It was rare somebody in the office could finish his sentences. And he couldn’t help but replay the crass words being said in your soft voice. He felt a crush hijacking his system already. Dear god.

“Most people don’t recognize it in the original Russian.” Spencer heard you say.

“Most people probably wouldn’t recognize it in English.” he retorted.

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Spencer wasn’t even kidding. “I’m not joking.” He shook his head. “It’s unfortunate how many people aren’t even vaguely familiar with Tolstoy.”

“It is.” you agreed. “You went to Caltech, correct?”

He smiled, “Yes.”

“I almost did too. Decided last minute on Columbia.”

“You went to Columbia?” he asked.

“I just graduated.”

“How old are you?” he asked before quickly correcting himself, “I’m sorry! That was forward! I am not...I’m not trying to undermine your studies with your age, I promise. I’m just curious.”

“No! It’s okay!” You got out fast. “I’m 19. I graduated high school a little bit early.”

“Me too.” He smiled. “12, actually.”

Your eyes went wide, “12?”

“Yes, um, in a Las Vegas public high school.” He winced, but the self-deprecation somehow came out charming, “I uh,” His eyes narrowed, “didn’t go to a lot of parties.”

That made you wholeheartedly laugh. “Me neither! I graduated at 15, which you know is the age everybody else starts. It created a really weird dynamic because the older kids in my grade didn’t like me, but the underclassmen my age really didn’t like me.”

Instead of the laugh you were expecting, Spencer just gave you a pensive stare.

“Um..I can’t see why. I think you’re very likeable.” The compliment would’ve been strange exchanged by anybody other than Spencer to you.

“Wait till you get to know me.” You said it through a smile but so softly you were afraid he might not be able to hear it, but he did.

And that was confirmed when he flashed you the most incredible, toothy grin you’d ever seen. “I uh, I doubt there will be any change in opinion.”

“Well, um, I’m sure- I think! You’re very likeable as well Dr. Reid.” you said.

“That’s what you say now.” He retorted in the same coy tone you had earlier.

You shook your head, “You’ll find I can be insufferably stubborn.”

-----------------------------------

After two weeks, there was little Spencer could do to hide his massive crush affinity for you from the team.

In the bullpen:

You guys had locked eyes and were mouthing out exchanged of No’s and Yes’s from across the room. There was an ongoing half-serious dispute about whether or not Xanthippe slept with Plato.

Morgan glided in his wheeled chair to whisper into Spencer’s ear.

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.” He said, shoving files into the cabinet below Reid’s desk.

“I’m..I’m not.. I--what? Bedr--No!” Reid whisper-shouted back.

On the jet:

“Reid?” Gideon called Spencer, “Chess?” He motioned towards the board.

“Yes, sure. Just give me a second. I’m almost done. I’m reading Infinite Jest. I don’t usually enjoy literature if it isn’t classic, even less so if it’s American. But..” Spencer smiled, “Y/N likes the author.” He continued his fast-paced reading of the third-to-last chapter of the book.

Morgan and Gideon exchanged glances.

Even in front of you:

You opened a sugar packet and began stirring.

“De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium is still some of the best work on heliocentric theory out there, I think. Copernicus knew what he was talking about!” You spun on your heels to see Reid’s face contorted in disagreement. You giggled, “Don’t give me that face! I’m right!”

He took a sip of his coffee as to keep himself quiet. “Listen, cosmological theory is for…”

But the pair of you were interrupted, it was Elle, standing behind you and in front of Spencer.

“New skirt?” Elle asked as you turned, back now facing Reid. She was pouring herself a cup of coffee too.

“Yes!” You excitedly nodded. “You like it?”

Elle looked up and down, but not at you. The judgmental eyes were for the man behind you. She pursed her lips, “Not just me.”

The only face redder than yours was Reid’s.

-----------------------------------

Nights spent in a bar after a case that had dragged on far too long was nothing new, but the energy tonight was especially light. Gideon had refused, but everybody else was just relaxed, even Hotch, and the team just got happier at each other's happiness. It was great, really. As Hotch and Morgan sipped on whiskey, JJ and Penelope had already downed four sugary, colorful cocktails and were in a whispered fit of giggles. Elle and Spencer settled on a tamer option of an IPA Spencer couldn’t name.

“SPENCER!” Penelope excitedly shouted, “Y/N is literally you! You’re both adorable! You’re both geniuses! You’re both young!” She drew on her rant, “And if you have a crush on her you should just tell her!” JJ’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she tried to cover Penelope’s mouth.

Morgan and Elle erupted in soft laughter while Hotch cracked an uncharacteristically amused smile.

“Spence, I swear, I didn’t say that! I just...I may have mentioned how happy you get every time she’s around! And how you guys can talk for literally hours!” JJ defended, her words slurring in silly drunkenness.

Spencer rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time they teased him about you, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either.

“I don’t have a crush on her! We just….we like the same things! It gives us a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah?” Morgan said through a laugh, “And what is it that boy and girl wonder talk about so much?”

“Well, uh.. a lot of things. But I find she gets the most excited when we are discussing the theories of postmodernism, in that apparent realities are actually just social constructs and veritable realities are subject to change, and uh... we like to talk about linguistics….political philosophy….history... mathematic theory...and uh, oh! Doctor Who.”

Spencer was blushing and spoke about you like a teenage girl did their boyband crush, and the team noticed. They didn’t even need to say it out loud. Spencer gathered from the way they looked back at him.

“I heard she lent you a book too, Reid.” Hotch said before taking a sip from his glass.

“Yes! She did!” He smiled, “It was her copy of Pale Fire. She has an impressive collection of 19th century Russian literature. All in its original dialect! Some of it’s even annotated, which usually would annoy me but since it’s her thoughts and notes I sort of find it endearing.”

“Dr. Reid is endeared!” Greenaway shrieked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up a little higher on his nose, “I find her incredibly endearing.”

“Y’all that sounded like a dorky love confession.” Morgan said as the team erupted in laughter and Reid’s head fell in a smile. There was no point in denying it anymore: He really, really liked you.

--------------------------------------

Within two months, you and Spencer had finally put your shyness aside, and spent a very lovely evening at watching an orchestra at the Smithsonian Music, and sharing noodles at your favorite Thai restaurant. And then you guys spent some time on your couch. And then in your bed. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen. You were both very sexually frustrated.

For the following two months, as soon as you both stepped out of the office, it was very, very hard to keep your hands off each other. Could either of you help it though? Teenage geniuses don’t experience parties, or football games, or clumsy sex. The time was perfect to make up for it.

And you guys did. The sex part at least. “Football involves a lot of dirt. And germs. And sweat.”

“Oh my god!” you shrieked. His hands were in a place they found themselves more and more often: Your pants.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, continuing his pattern of small circles on that particular bundle of nerves.

“It feels great.” You nodded.

“I uh, I’ve been researching the female anatomy.”

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, but trying to focus on your boyfriends newfound intellect. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He watched your undoing with boyish adoration and curiosity before swallowing, “Very.”

“Oh fuck!” Your legs began to shake, “Spencee...I’m gonn--”

--------------------------------------------

You and Spencer just understood each other.

#drspencerreid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminalminds #reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #Spencerreid #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x y/n #reid x reader #spencer reid #professor reid x reader #professor reid #season1 reid

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Break

Pair: Draco Malfoy x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You liked Winter Break Draco. Unfortunately, he was replaced by Usual Dick Bag Draco who becomes ruthless. At least Harry is there to make you feel better.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), jealousy sex, dirty talk, swearing, spanking, short mention of slapping and hair pulling, sir kink and degrading a tad- fluffy ending tho. I may have taken the kinks too far but ya know-

Notes: Requested by @the-offical-yn, who I must apologize too. A lot of my stories got away from me so I’m very sorry this is late- but um- enjoy getting railed by Draco guys! Yo, I made a shit plot for this. I’m so sorry if it’s baaddd.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

For years, he had this twisted mind against anyone not a pure-blood or a Slytherin. He had zero shame with cussing out Gryffindor's, spitting at Ravenclaw’s during quidditch games and tripping Hufflepuff's. But, suddenly, just before Christmas break, he changed and there was nothing blunt about it. He would help Ravenclaw first years pick up their books if they stumbled on the fake steps on the moving staircases, tutor third year Hufflepuff's in Herbology after hours and helped a few Gryffindor students fix their potions.

Draco changed faster than water turns to ice in a freezer. It was almost alarming. Even Snape seemed to be concerned, probably more than others. The greasy git kept yelling at Gryffindor's (mostly the Golden Trio [mostly Harry]) about what would happen when he found out who jinxed Malfoy. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he changed, but everyone else could. To the day, infact.

It was just a few days before October, when it started. Draco was strutting down the halls, using Crabbe and Goyle as shields from the dozens of students who walked by him. They stood at his sides, knocking students out of the way, acting like Draco owned this bubble of space as they walked, but somehow, you slipped through. You were crossing in front of him, trying to hurry to class and ended up tripping over your own feet.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to catch yourself, but instead you fumbled right into Draco, landing heavily against his side. He scoffed, shoving you off and getting ready to cuss you out when you began to apologize (even if you don’t like him) and gather your things off the floor. With your head tilted down you didn’t notice the Slytherin staring at you like you were a puppy. When you gathered your things, you scurried off, apologizing to more students as you went by.

Apparently, that day, he saw you tutoring a whole table of students, all houses included, and you were being so nice to them, so kind and your voice was soft and he heard you say “Hey, no! It’s ok! There is no such thing as a dumb question, ask away”. He had this urge in his chest to just be different, to be someone you would want to be around and be a friend, maybe even be more. It made him feel sick.

It took about a week to get your attention, then a quick growing friendship blossomed. Your relationship with Draco changed- just like he had. It changed from funny jokes, sassy remarks and late night games of exploding snaps to flirting contests, long hugs and what could be considered dates.

By December, you and Draco were dating without the official titles. Everyday, you two were growing closer and the relationship was growing more rock solid with every passing event. Soon enough, winter break was coming around and everyone was genuinely surprised when they saw the blonde Slytherin strutting through the halls during Christmas break. Usually, the pureblood went home to spend the holidays in a cabin in a warmer climate with his family.

And it was weird for everyone to see him not bragging and tripping students and spitting at kids. But for you? It was a blissful few weeks. Even the Golden Trio got a break. They were some of your closer friends, so Draco gave them a bigger break. The blonde even went as far as helping Harry during potions. It was terrifying.

Until Christmas break was passing and Draco went through another change, which was what you were going to confront him about.

"Malfoy!" You found him out in the courtyard, a teary-eyed (y/h) first year trailing behind you. The poor kid was shaking with fear and let out a sniffle. "You have some very good explaining to do!"

The blonde looked from Goyle to you, his eyes slowly dragging down your form before darting back up to your flaming eyes. His smile had dropped and was now replaced with a sharp frown. His nose scrunched up, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crisscrossed over his chest.

“I don’t have to explain anything to the likes of you.” He sneered. He looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with the first year, who scooted over to hide himself better. He made a scoff and turned back to Goyle, shaking his head while snorting. “Look at this- he’s tryin’ to be a hero.” As if on a cue, his little posse of Slytherins broke out into laughter, forcing your face to heat up from humiliation.

“Seriously? Are you fucking five?” You called over the idiots laughter, which morphed into pathetic ‘ooh’s. “Draco, stop being a child and a douchebag and just apologize to the first year.”

“Why should I?” Draco stepped closer to you. His eyes, stance and voice all held a challenging undertone. He moved some blonde hair out of his face, but you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked down to your lips.

“Because you called him a mud-blood for bumping into you. Grow a pair, gain some manners and apologize to him.” You crossed your arms over your chest, putting on your best angry face. If Draco was pulling a prank, you were going to punch him, without hesitation. And how the hell did an asshole like this become a prefect??

“Oh, your right, I definitely should apologize when the kid bumped into me. But I think I have a better idea.” He brought a finger to his lips, tapping it in mock thought. Sarcasm and sass was radiating from him and it only served to piss you off more. “How about you fuck off and leave me alone, (L/n).” He smirked, turning to his posse and symboling them to leave with him for a dramatic exit. You took a deep breath, your hands balling at your sides.

“I’m sorry for him.” You turned around and put a hand on the kids back and gave him a soft push back toward the castle. “Go tell the head of the house, ok? I’m gonna keep talking to him.” When he nodded and began to walk out of the courtyard, you hurried in the direction Draco left in. You found him heading across the bridge, in the middle of his group, who were effectively taking up the whole span of the bridge. His laughter echoed in the hollow build, which only had your blood boiling worse.

So, you called his name again, effectively getting his attention. He turned so fast you thought his head would’ve spun all the way around like an owl. You stared into his now burning eyes, walking closer to him. You could feel the adrenaline mixing with rage in your veins. You weren’t thinking straight, but you didn’t care.

“Wanna explain why you're being an ass all of a sudden or are you just gonna insult me and strut off with your orgy party?” You glared at him, ignoring his irritated sneer. It was making your face red (or whatever hue, I wanna be as inclusive as possible) with anger.

“I don’t have to tell you a thing.” Draco was, naturally, turning defensive, even if he knew deep down how he was acting was wrong. Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he knew he was actually being an ass or not.

“Ok. I get it. You stay the fuck here with your friends and I’ll just leave you alone then. Merlin, why did I think you’d change?” Your face showed disappointment before contouring back to anger and frustration and aggression. You ran your tongue over your teeth, a frown etching across your lips. “My mistake.” You turned around, still going off pure adrenaline. You felt a hand grasp your wrist and immediately tugged it free with all of your strength. “No, I really don’t wanna hear it, fuck off.”

You didn’t look back, and you certainly didn’t hear him say anything. Of course it hurt, but you didn’t care at the moment. Your heart was thumping in your chest and all you felt was anger. He had the audacity to befriend you, say he really liked you for fucks sake, and then do a complete 180. You were grateful it was the weekend so you didn’t have to sit next to him in class.

You stomped through the snow, hurrying across the school grounds to the library (can you tell I have no idea what Hogwarts layout is?). You pushed open the doors and decided to basically hide yourself in an empty corner to try to cool down. After pulling the seat out, you sat down, slouching and resting your forehead on the table. You want to know what happened, why it happened

Was it his dad? Was it his friends? Was he jinxed or something? You let out a sigh of frustration. The idea of his dad convincing him to start treating people like trash again brought your anger back. You rolled your neck and ran your hands through it.

Pulling your wand out of your pocket, you waved it casually, summoning a book from one of the carts beside the isles. You didn't care what it was. You just wanted a distraction.

Luckily, for you, it didn't take long to get distracted. A few pages and more than a few dreadful minutes into your "reading", someone sat across from you. You looked over the rim of the book to see a smiling Gryffindor with big, round glasses slipping down his nose. He gave an awkward greeting while pushing his glasses back up.

"Hi to you too, Harry. This is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?" You smiled, shutting the book and crossing your arms over it.

"Well, I just heard about the Draco fiasco that took place a few hours ago-" had it really been hours? "-and I wanted to make sure you were OK." Harry scooted closer to the table, his cheeks a soft pink.

"I'm fine, man. You don't gotta stress about me." You stretched your arms over your head while leaning back in your chair. You were trying to give the illusion of calmness and it was sorta working.

"Oh, good! I'm- I'm glad you're ok!" He began to fiddle with his fingers, digging at the nails nervously. "Because I also wanted to ask.. Um.. If you are free? Like this weekend? To hang out?" His green eyes barely met yours and, instead, opted for staring right over your shoulder.

"Oh, I'm n-"

"He's not free, Potter. We have plans covering every minute of the weekend. Scram."

Your smile faded as Draco's voice filled the small corner. You looked up, immediately catching his stern gaze. He was leaning against the end of a bookshelf, his arms crossed and one foot crossed over the other. He was clearly chewing on his tongue, not that he'd admit it. You gave him a glare, your arms crossing over your chest.

"But, Draco. I thought I canceled our plans." Your voice was condescending and it only fueled his anger. Harry, noting the weird tension, ducked out of there quickly, swerving around Draco and speed walking to a safer, less awkward part of the library.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The blonde hissed while taking long steps over to the table. He was still staring you right in the eyes. Draco moved the chair Potter was sitting in and put his hands flat against the table. He made eye contact with him.

"Why should it matter to you? I thought I was just being a selfish hero." You narrowed your eyes at him, daring him to make a move. You could feel the anger returning from earlier.

"I never said selfish. Why are you making this so complicated? I have a reputation to withhold, (Y/n)." His eyes softened a bit. He looked down at the polished wood before looking at you again. Draco tried to give you a smile, but you didn’t return it; you just tapped your fingers against the table top.

"I don't give a rats ass about your shitty reputation! You bully pre-teens and they actually fear you and you think that's a good thing? That's what you wanna leave behind when you graduate here?" Your face was turning a deep shade of (insert skin color please). He knew he fucked up, not that he’d admit it, and his soft eyes hardened again.

"Remember who's in charge in this relationship, boy." His hand snaked around the back of your neck, tugging you forward. Your nostrils flared as you released a sigh. Was he really pulling out the dominant card right now?

"I told you there was no relationship." you shoved his hand away, standing straight up and walking past him. You didn’t get far before he grabbed the hood of your robe and tugged you back. He guided you so your back collided roughly with the end of the book case he was leaning against.

“I know you can’t quit me like that, love.” The pure-blood spat out the pet name as his thumb and index finger roughly grabbed your chin and tugged your head up. “We both know I infected you like a virus- I know you're obsessed with me, sweetie.” A menacing grin spread across Draco’s pale lips when your jaw dropped open and your mouth fumbled to find words to combat him.

He moved his leg between yours, his hands moving from the scrunched fabric of your hood to your neck. He leaned in, planting a rough kiss to your lips while his other hand untucked your shirt. He pushed his hand under the shirt, rubbing the skin of your hip while he deepened the kiss. He managed to push his tongue past your lips and ran along yours.

Draco angled his leg to brush against your crotch causing you to jolt in the kiss. He pulled back, his tongue licking your teeth while pulling back.

“Told you.” He purred out. The hand on your neck gives you a squeeze around the neck while his icy eyes go from your lips to your eyes. He could read you like a book. You hated it. “Don’t be a slut, darling. Let’s head to my room, yeah?” He didn’t move until you nodded your head slowly. “Good boy. Come on.”

The walk to the common room was long, but the hand around the back of your neck was sturdy. It didn't take long for him to have you pressed against the wall of his prefect bedroom, chest first, your pants basically vanished from your legs and his hand wrapped around your hard dick.

“You’re such a whore, aren’t ya, baby boy, hmm?” Draco’s voice boomed in your ear as his fingers interlocked into your skelp. You couldn’t help but sob. The hand on your dick was going faster, but refused to slide over the swollen head. Your nails scraped down the wall pressed against your front and Draco pressed your cheek harder against the brick. “Been such a bad boy- using that dirty mouth to talk so poorly about me and to flirt with my anime. If you wanted a three-some you should’ve asked Zabini. But Potter? You know that’s a firm no, baby.”

He was tsking before biting down on the side of your neck, the grip he had around your cock only tightened to the point of painful. Tears of humiliation and pain gathered in your eyeline, threatening to boil over. Your legs subconsciously spread when he began to grind into the bulge of your ass, his hard dick prominent into your crack. He licked a strip up from the bite to your ear.

“You know very well what happens to slutty bad boys who flirt with sir’s enemy, right, baby?” He was growling in your ear again, his hand coming to a tight hold at your base. He let out a mocking laugh when your legs clamped shut and your hips tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Draco!” You squeaked out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. It made Draco happy to hear your pathetic pleas, but his joy was melting away due to you still squirming in his grasp. He shook his head, tsking again. He tugged your hair, yanking your head back and forcing you to bow against his body. He gave you a firm slap against the cheek before cupping your cheeks together and forcing your lips to pout, his hand still in your hair.

“You know that’s not my name right now, kitten. Use the right one.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Your voice was weak compared to Draco’s, the obvious authority he had over you made you shiver. Abruptly, he pushed you against the wall, letting go of your hair and he was backing away from you.

“Not yet your not, kitten. Finish stripping then get your arse over here.” Draco spoke, sitting down on the bed, patting the top of his thighs. He smirked when you did what he said, tossing your shirt off into the corner and approaching him slowly. He reached out to grab your arm and tug you over his lap.

He used one hand to push your face into the mattress while the other ran over your right cheek. He loved watching your hips try to duck and avoid the cold silver of his rings. He let out a mocking laugh, his hands grabbing into your bum, nails digging into the skin to leave marks that had your back arching.

"Aw, baby. Is it too cold for you?" He laughed louder, feeling you nod against his left hand tangled in your hair. "Aw, poor baby. Wait until you feel them bruise your skin. Now, do you remember what you say?"

"Yes, sir." your voice sounded strained--like you were mentally preparing yourself for the bite of the rings, the puncture of his smacks. You were, in all honesty. He never held back during punishments.

"See? It isn't so hard to be a good boy after all, is it?" he patted your head before brushing your hair back. "Remember the safe system, darling? Good. Color?"

"Green, sir." your legs were clenching together and wiggling, but a swat to the back of the sensitive skin of your thighs made you stop. "I'm sorry sir."

"Good.. Now, how many does a horny little whore like you deserve, hmm? Ten? Fifteen?"

You knew what he was looking for.

"T-Twenty." You swallowed. The anticipation and degrading was making your head cloudy.

"Twenty? Well, you must've been really naughty, huh?" His hand ran to your lower back, caressing the skin before dragging his nails back down, leaving a trail of red marks down your skin.

You nodded your head quickly, biting your lip to conceal a moan. You could feel the pre-cum going down your hard dick, which was pressing into Draco's thigh.

"No response? Maybe we should add another ten then, since you wanna be so bad."

"I-I'm sorry, sir! Twenty is what I deserve." You said quickly, trying to turn back and give him the huge innocent eyes he always went weak for.

"No. Thirty seems far more fitting." He chose now to start the punishment with a raised hand and a harsh slap over the perfect curve of your ass. He watched the skin bounce and groaned, gripping the flesh again.

"One! Thank you sir." You squeaked out, back arching at the familiar sting of the hit. The cold silver of his rings colliding with your skin caused your toes to curl.

"Atta boy." he purred out, repeating the action on the other side.

“Two, thank you sir!”

By the tenth spank, tears were falling freely down your cheeks. By the fifteenth, your voice was breaking with each shout. By the twentieth, you were trying to crawl away. By the twenty-fifth, you were kicking your legs like a brat. Somehow you managed to count to thirty without losing track.

"You did so good, baby. Even if you were being a brat." Draco chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. His other hand rubbed your cheeks, trying to sooth the deep red (or whatever tint shows up with your skin, I wanna be as inclusive as possible) marks on your skin.

You let out another sniffle, propping yourself up on an elbow and wiping the tears off your cheeks. His hand ran up your sweat thighs, his palms rubbing the already sore skin of your ass once he got to it.

“Color?”

“Green, sir.” You turned your head to look at him. Your legs shifted, creating a shattering hyper awareness of how hard and how wet your cock was against his thigh. You caught his dirty smirk before he flipped you over. Suddenly, it was stoic and he was tugging your lower half back onto his lap. This time, Draco was sitting back on his calves, and he was steadily putting your legs around his waist.

“Good. Now,” he paused to lick his lips, “I’m going to fuck the brat out of you, got it?” His hands moved down your thighs before moving up to your pelvic bone. While you were responding with a polite, but breathless ‘yessir’, his hand was lazily wrapping around your cock.

He was still fully dressed, and the smooth fabric of his uniform pants rubbed against the sore spots on your ass. Your hips moved upward, trying to get more of his moving hand and less of the fabric against your bottom. You let out a breathy moan while his thumb idly swiped across the swollen head of your dick.

“That’s it.” He mumbled to himself over the sound of his zipper dropping. He mumbled a preparing, lubrication and cleaning spell, his hand still working you slowly. The blonde stuck his tongue out in concentration while pushing his own cock into your lubed ass. Draco let out a hum, his teeth clamping down onto his tongue. “Fuck yes. Such a good boy- my good little slut.” He let go of your dick and clamped his hands onto your waist and used the leverage to pull you down onto his cock.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the cry as he stuffed his cock into you. You felt the wind knocked out of you. You gripped the sheets, whining pathetically. The head of his dick nudged against your sweet spot while he sat there, waiting patiently for you to adjust. It had been a bit of time since the last time you guys had fun sexy time. Your dick was literally throbbing, occasionally twitching, at the idea of him literally fucking you stupid. Your eyes were staring at the top of his four post bed, lost in your own thoughts when he began to move.

He tested the waters with the quick thrust, which yanked a moan from you. When you finally looked at him, you realized he was watching you intently, a menacing grin spread across his face.

“How’s your arse?” Draco asked, his voice condescending and cocky as he gave another thrust. His hand snaked around to your sore ass cheeks and gave one a tough squeeze, his nails digging in.

A cry left your lips, this time pain filled instead of pleasure. You planted your feet flat on the bed and tried to wiggle away from his grasp, which only made it worse.

“Sore, you dick!” You reached around, grabbing his wrist and trying to pull his hand away. “Ow! Let go, Draco!” You dug your nails into his wrist, trying to show him a small level of the pain he was causing but he just laughed, mocking your voice.

“Owie, it hurts! Take it, babe. You can do it.” He let go, his hands coming to hold your hips again before moving you at a punishingly rough pace. His muscular thighs rubbed against your ass, not that he cared. The pain was somehow starting to make the pleasure stronger. Soon it was filling your veins and fogging your brain.

Draco relished every moan, every gasp, every little sound you made. He listened to you whine out his name and it only fueled him more. He watched the sweat bead across your forehead and felt proud of himself.

“Atta boy. Gonna cum soon? Gonna cum completely untouched, like a whore? Hmm?” He purred out, leaning down to leave hickies across your neck and scratches down your chest. Your back arched pathetically off the bed while a woeful affirmative left your lips- but it wasn’t good enough for him.

“Say it.” He snarled, his voice too close to your ear to be that loud.

“G’nna cum, please.” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but your arms wrapped around his neck and pulling him closer. He shifted so he could rail you into the mattress and fulfill his promise.

“Please what? How can I help you if I don’t know what you want? What do you need, kitten?”

It was like he used the imperius curse on you. You bent to fit his mold and he couldn’t have asked for more.

“Please, sir. Please let me cum, please.” You whimpered, your toes curling in the air. Your ankles locked behind his waist and dug into him, effectively pulling him closer. His palm glided up your chest again and he gave you a smile.

“Course you can, love. Whenever you're good to go.” Draco didn’t ease up his hips, but his voice was softer and after a few thrusts hitting your prostate and a brush of his stomach against your weeping cock had you cumming. Your head tossed back and you didn’t bother to muffle the cry of his name.

It didn’t take much to follow you for Draco, it never did. He always thought one of the most beautiful expressions you could make was while you were cumming on his bed. That, and when he gave you candy and you smiled at him. He kissed every bruise he left on your skin before landing on your lips and laid next to you.

He pulled a sheet over the two of you- the room had gotten hot but he knew both of you were too tired to get cleaned and shower. He pulled you to his chest, kissing your temple.

“You did so good, baby. I love you.” He rested his chin against the top of your head, completely delving you in his shirt covered chest. He rubbed a hand down your back. Your boyfriend didn’t care about sweat.

“I love you too, Draco.” Your voice was rough and raspy. You planted a kiss to his cheek and nuzzled deeper into him somehow. “I miss you. The nice you- not the mean Slytherin you. He can suck my dick.”

“I know, I know. I’ll work on it. I promise.” Draco spoke between laughs. He hesitated, his mind bouncing between two questions he wanted to ask at once. “Do you want me to get you a bottle of water and we go take a bubble bath?” His voice was soft, but a massive grin spread across his lips when you nodded.

“Can we take a nap first?” You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and gave him that smile he loved.

“Of course, dove.”

#hp x male reader #hp imagine #male reader #x male reader #draco malfoy smut #Ronny Writes #draco malfoy x male reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #hp smut

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

youtube

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#playlistficchallenge #harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff

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aeempress · 3 years ago

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Apritello Express Evidences, part 2

Khem-khem, ladies and gentlemen, we shall continue out praising Apritello's episodes. And yeah, this part will be dedicated, in entirety just one episode.

Purple jacket. April and Donnie's episode.

I really love this piece of masterpiece, because it show April and Dee relationship, better reveals them as characters, and demonstrates their connection. (My previous points at this whole situation)

The episode begins with Donnie sneaking into April's school under the pretext of helping her. Soon, April stated the reason why she called D - her science computer project. Actually, she could take a photo of the code and sent it to Donatello, and I'm sure, he would send her the correct one right away, he's coder, he's prodigy, no probbles.

But still, April just asked him to come over and help her without stating any reasons. And he, indeed, came at speed of the light.

I want you to understand what exactly does that mean.

First: April is aware how much Donnie is into human culture. He wants to study in normal human school, do some average teen stuff. Especially, he is loving school and science-related stuff, all these science school projects, visits to botanical gardens, experiments and laboratory work. Because it's his field. It's exactly his domain, where he's good at. His family does not share his interest in science, and April is only one who can understand him. Probably.

Also, April know, how badly Donnie wants to go to school, which gives him an excuse, even if not the most solid one, but an excuse, nevertheless, to visit her school again.

Why again?

Because he has no problem navigating there. Donnie went directly to April's computer class.

He loves this place. And he'd already helped April with her projects.

Even so, knowing that every time she asked guys, especially Don, for help, it turned into a cataclysm, April still called him to help.

It's just a weird, indirect way to say, " Let's hang out, I know how much you like this whole situation with science, school and etc. Here ya go, buddy"

It seems like April did that to make something pleasant to him, something small, but nice to make him feel better. Because, as I state before - he likes to help April (praise, doing something useful for April - still counts as a motivation) and he likes school.

Second: khem-khem, D came at her school, as it seems, right away she called/texted. He didn't even know the proper reason, but c'mon: April ask for help, plus, her school. Sounds legit, don't you think?

Anyway, April has always been being the reason and excuse for teetles, but especially for Donnie. Clear? Clear. Good.

Donnie also tends to not think things through when he is excited. Because he went at the daylight in place, full of people just to help April.

ROTTMNT shows us how turtles were really afraid of human reaction and possible consequences. They have plan "H" to pretend they are going to Galaxy Con, brothers have explanation why they look weird and it's definitely not because boys are mutants, uh-huh, no, plus, guys go on surface at evening or night hours, when there are not so many people, and it's dark, obviously, to cover them and keep unseen.

Yeah, of course, Donnie seems more capable then his brothers to handle the surface (he has cash, D's dressed up as old ladies more than once, according to Leo, he was in April's school before, so yeah, no big deal) and I suspect that his friendship with April is one of the reasons.

Third: do you remember how April worried about looking "normal" when she was finally invited to a school party? She even forbade Mayham to appear nearby, just not to look like the lizard boy. Because cool kids don't bring pets to school. April doesn't have many friends, or rather, there are none at school, and she's been trying to solve this problem by getting close to Taylor Martin, the coolest girl in school.

And April O'Neil just calls Donatello, an objectively strange guy (since when is it normal to be a fan of school? Pretty questionable) in place, where her reputation is hanging in a balance. Our girl does not try to hide Dee, as it usually shown in shows for kids, and April do not pretend that she sees him for the first time in her life because, you know, Donnie will catch everyone's attention being himself and may embarrass her in front of her classmates. But no - April says with all her actions: "Yes, I know him. Yes, that dork is with me. And I don't give a damn about your opinion. Your problems, not mine. And yeah, I'm fine with him being here."

I mean it, guys. The devil is always in the tiny details.

The way they behave around each other.

Donatello is way more, MORE relaxed and just being himself: dramatic dorky nerdy ninja with current obsessions. The way he sneaked in school and April's classroom, the way he behaves alone with her is contrasting the way of his attitude while his brothers are near.

Don has a specific way to shown up. Instead of texting her, Donnie used shurekens. Yes, he almost fell off the lamp, but still, that's... quite an entrance he makes there.

April worries about him, when he fell from ceiling.

Our girl feel relaxed enough around Donnie, so she winks at him.

A wink is a fairly casual gesture that shows some expression of sympathy, trust, and togetherness. It's both good for saying "We're in same boat, we're team" and show the playful attitude towards someone. Isn't that an indicator?

Ironically, that being the best friends April and Donnie do not have any secret handshake/brofist/special greeting, as it usually the besties have at kid's series. Like Kendra and Jeremy have.

I can do only one possible logical conclusion: their relationship is far beyond "friends," "best friends," and "family".

Btw, about this certain phrase about secret five.

- Nay, fair April. A secret five[...].

Once again, nice wording, Donatello. Fair April? Maybe I'm too critical, but often when someone wants to convince their interlocutor and at the same time show one's condescension to them, it's usually uses "my dear ..." or something like that. I understand that semantically the difference is not very big, but in the first case, you can feel Donnie's personal attitude, even though he uses a book word. The second is just formal politeness, which emphasizes the difference between the rightness of the disputants.

This phrase were interpreted on official Russian dub as (okay, it's really hard to choose the correct word, because there's a lot of synonyms in English that sits quite well, while on Russian it's just one word, damn) "Нет, милая (No, honey/sweetheart )". Actually, a strange choice of wording, 'cause this is not what usually friends use to say to each other. We prefer use words like " my darling", "my dear", to demonstrate leniency. And again, most often this prerogative belongs to the older generation. Russians rarely throw around such words as "honey", "dear", "sunshine", because this deprives these endearments of any meaning, and a person using them, as a rule, is familiar. Of course, there are people who use them on a regular basis, but I HIGHLY doubt that Donatello is one of them. It's not his style.

But still, maybe I just too critical at this point.

April, as it is shown, have some kind of power to cool and calm him down and bring Donnie back to life reality.

1. Don awakes from his daze while heard April's voice

2. He's literally coming back to life, when April said about his broken jetpack.

3. Dee obediently interrupts his touching farewell to the jacket when April yells at him.

Oh, and his face. I remind you, fellas, we're talking about Donatello, "I really do not like to express emotions"-guy and "I will die if someone broke my bAbEyS"-guy.

And what do we see? Donnie's emoting. And feels free to do that. He's even drooling. (What seems kinda interesting without context, if you're understand what I'm talking about ;))

Dee doesn't seem angry about broken jetpack. And his wide smile, while he's assuring April he can fix it? A few minutes ago, he was steamed when his stuff was stolen, but when the jetpack was broken, he doesn't even raise an eyebrow. Very eloquent.

April is his support

April also supports Donnie whatever he's up to. Yes, she hadn't been excited when Othello had expressed a desire to join the club. However, she also introduced him to Kendra and company. Yes, she showed by her whole appearance that she did not share his joy, but nevertheless, our loyal captain O'Neil was there for him, by his side all this time.

And her sweet facial expression. From "Srsly? Join this jerks?" to "If you dare to even think about to hurt him, I'll smash you".

And one more cute detail about Dee. Even if he does whatever he wanted so badly, Don constantly looks around at April, looking for her approval.

- Be honest, April, do I look fantastic, or SUPERBLY fantastic?

- You look like you drop a juice box in a laundry. (Play nice, April, don't be mean)

He cherishes her opinion.

April had even called him late at night just to, technically speaking, say that his tech were stolen. And what's the big deal with all his outfit? It's late night, they can just sneak out into Nakamura in their usual form. But noooo, April give a special ride on her bicycle. Just. You know. Our girl carried her own weight and his all the way without stopping. And then she went up 53 + floors running non-stop because Donnie's equipment was stolen. And then she had to chase the her classmates, dodge and jump out of the window. Because Purple dragons stole Dee's tech. Like shooting fish in a barrel, no big deal at all.

And it's definitely not because he will be totally crashed or he'll do stupid things during his anger, which will then come out sideways.

And April comes along with him to very end.

By the way, their phone conversations.

Donnie is the very case when "Call at any time of the day or night and I will pick up the phone".

When April called him when he needs D's help with Albearto, when something is definitely going on behind.

As it says in transcript of the episode:

[April takes out her phone, scrolls to Donnie’s listing and calls him. Donatello appears on screen. Behind him a flying microwave wearing boxing gloves shoots lasers at his brothers.]

Don: "You are conversing with Donatello."

April

[Crouched on floor in hiding.]

Dude, I need your help."

Don: "For you, anything. As long as it does not involve bees, or spiders, or beach balls.

[There’s an explosion behind him and his brothers cry out, which he ignores.]

And yeah, he took her incoming immediately, he ignores absolutely and totally everything around him, because... April? Expositions, bloody flying microwave bot turned to destroy mode, his brothers screaming and being in life-threatening situation? Naaah, it can wait.

Donatello was at Todd's, building "the puppiest place on Earth" and was very enthusiastic about to finish this thing. But he paused anyway to answer April.

We already know how obsessive with work Don can be: if something interesting gets into his field of view, he begins to do it all day long. Remember "The Purple Game" - a very revealing case. Yeah, we weren't shown how much Donnie is into engineering, but I can guess that point remains the same.

April called him at late night and Donnie picked up the phone.

April, unlike Donatello, is a teenager who is burdened with social relationship such as family, school, and work periodically, which implies a more or less strict schedule to follow and some conventions, such as " April, you can't go out late at night to catch robbers, you are underage and you have to go to school/work tomorrow). However, she was watching the news late at night, so she called Dee. ( I have a lot of questions, but I'll never get answers, as it seems)

D, in turn, doesn't have so many contacts with the outside world. I highly doubt that anyone else outside of the family and April has his number. And yet, when he hears the call late at night he takes it. Yes, he had awaken from the nightmare, but still.

And what's up with his usual "You're conversing with Donatello"? He didn't even understand what's going on, as it seems, he's too sleepy to play his usual image and playfully attitude as we could see in "Hypno Part Deux" and "War and Pizza".

Adorable couple-like D&A arguing

April very rarely uses "I told you so" against anybody, or rather, this is almost the only case. This phrase is more suitable for Leo or Donnie, and you know," I told you so! " we usually use on people we know well, and we want to tease 'em about them being wrong. Which, in fact, once again highlights and proves how close D&A are. And I don't even get started about the fact that this is more like a couple's quarrel, not a friend's.

And one more time - in the end, when April suggests using the jacket to stop Kendra.

Their teamwork

I stated that before, I'll tell it one more and more times. The chemistry of their team interaction is incredible. It's as if they can feel each other, and each knows what the other is capable of doing in the next moment. April easily adapts to Donnie's attack, realizing his plan.

Donnie also throws them both out of the window in order to continue the pursuiting Kendra on the jetpack. Don is one hundred percent sure of April, that she will understand what he wants to do, Dee trusts her with his life without hesitation, and she has never used his jetpack. He just puts her before the fact: April will be using the tech.

Up for Donnie!

I really like how this scene was made. Donatello struggles with his own tech, somewhat he made by himself, having invested almost whole himself and his soul, but what "betrayed" him in end. When Dee finally managed to shake one of his battleshell, which almost choked him, Donnie feel so scared and unsecured. We can see his anxiety - Dee's coaching position with covering his head with his hands and tucking his knees.

Defenseless, helpless, and mostly lost, and then, just in time - hero comes to save his life. She uses Donnie's name as battlecry, look how furious she is.

Funny fact: on Russian dub April yells "Don't touch Donnie! (how dare you, madafaka)

April fits in Donnie's type of girls. She's cute (obvious) and mean (not so obvious).

I can't say that meanness is the main feature of April's character, as we can say about Kendra. But this personality trait is still present in her and sometimes it does not manifest itself so widely. April's meanness is not so pronounced, it is much softer and smoother, and it is not exposed.

But April becomes really mean when someone messes up with Donnie.

She's his support and prop. Literally. Just look at first frame, okay-okay, jokes aside

She's genuinely enjoying of kicking bad guys ' asses, even letting go of witticisms and barbs.

Last scenes

Don survived a rough night: he was used, his tech was stolen, so he and April had to chase the satin robed punks. Donnie was hit in the head with a hammer, he fell from a bird's-eye view, passed out and then his battleshell tried to strangle him. And April is here to comfort him, to cheer him up.

Yes, we don't get any hugs (because it's kids show, bleh), the tactility is kept to a minimum, except for April's comforting hand on his shoulder, but they don't even look at each other. But the softness of her voice, the intonation with which she utters a phrase (that is usually sent to the friend zone, but "pal" is really neutral word, and the most important how she said that) turn the scene upside down. It is not what April did to comfort him matter, it's how she did this.

I said "yes" to you way too often

April mirrors Donnie with his "Anything for you". Yes, of course, she said this with a certain amount of grumbling, but her voice and her demeanor suggest otherwise - she is not at all averse to going to giving in him.

And the way they're look at each other.

This one

And one more detail

It's really tiny, it's hard to catch from the first watching the episode, but still, it's possible. I'm talking about graffiti on the walls of the alley where April and Don had landed.

This one

Yeah, if we speak about reality it's quite normal to see graffiti like this. But we talking about TV-series, where everything has its own place and meaning. And if there something, it must be there, it's not just whim of artist who put it in there. But this little graffiti changes the mood of scene.

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seesgood · 3 years ago

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can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick? not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the disclaimer here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:

people are allowed to change. think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves.

so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with.

and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind.

this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person.

i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad.

a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:

90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.

you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)

i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care.

person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.

you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.

there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense.

bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people.

allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone

anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see.

#ʟᴇᴛ’s ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇs ⸺ psa.#/ long post cw.#when i say long i mean LONG #i could do an entire dissertation on this #i could do a ted talk #but ys know #if anyone wanted to do some ahem non-light reading this morning #*jazz hands*#( if you want to reblog this monstrosity you definitely can )

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ncssian · 4 years ago

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A Favor: Part Fifteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: NSFW!!😈😈 please disregard colorado window tinting laws for this chapter

***

Cassian has yet to regret getting Nesta that personalized record, despite the fact that she plays it everyday on repeat with a near obsession. Is this what true love is? Letting your girlfriend blast the same songs through your home again and again, and never tiring of it? Never tiring of her?

He doesn’t get to ponder on it, because while Nesta spends the week lazing pantsless around the house (“I’m getting ready for the party,” she states while he rubs her feet. “Spiritually and all that.”), Cassian has to figure out how to turn the cabin into an inviting space for forty wealthy guests.

All of Nesta’s shit gets shoved in the back of his bedroom closet. Personal items and framed pictures of the two of them are swiped off any surfaces. Lights go up around the house. Catering is secured.

By the time it’s all finished, the cabin has been stripped of all warmth and familiarity and turned into something chic and upscale, suitable for a small gala. Nesta stares around at the space when it’s done, her face revealing nothing.

Cassian points to the small sitting area on the second floor, directly above the open living room, that leads outside to the wraparound balcony. “We’ll be able to see fireworks from there,” he says. He turns to see Nesta’s face is still carefully blank, the way it is when she’s thinking too many things at once. “You sure you want to do this?” he asks. “It’s not too late to cancel the whole thing.”

She looks at him in horror. “It most certainly is. The party’s tomorrow.”

“Still not too late.” Cassian might not have that much power in the overall Night Court hierarchy, but for Nesta he could figure it out.

She smiles wanly but shakes her head. “We’re doing this, and we’re not letting it go to hell like last time.”

***

Nesta knows her sisters are aware that she’s on the guest list for the party (though she can’t imagine what Cassian’s explanation for that one was), but she still stiffens when she enters the cabin through the open door. Her eyes fall on various men and women that she’s never seen in her life, all glammed up and dripping self-importance, until recognizing Feyre and her boyfriend laughing with an older couple in a corner. The only thing that brings Nesta a little peace is that the snide woman, Amren, isn’t here tonight, having chosen to spend New Year’s with her boyfriend in California instead.

Nesta eases up when nobody takes notice of her, though a few nearby guests throw appreciative glances in her direction. She looks like a disco ball in her sequined wrap dress, and a freezing one at that. She shuts the door behind her, sealing the winter air out, but quickly pulls her hand away from the knob. It feels like the door isn’t hers to touch. She realizes that even though the cabin is her home, no one here except Cassian knows that.

Speaking of Cassian, she needs to find him. Nesta is not such an advanced creature that she knows how to survive in a room full of strangers on her own, and she no longer cares if anyone finds her clinging to Cassian weird.

She makes it three feet before she’s accosted by Morrigan, carrying her usual champagne glass like it’s an extension of her.

“Nesta!” she exclaims, loud and bright as ever. She smiles broadly, with too many teeth. “You’re here.”

Nesta blinks in response. She doesn’t understand how Morrigan benefits from this exaggerated excitement. Is it supposed to be insulting or polite?

“By the way,” Morrigan adds when Nesta doesn’t reply, “what exactly are you doing here?”

A heavy arm slides around Nesta’s shoulders, pulling her close. “I invited her,” says Cassian with a smile. “Because she’s my friend, and this place is practically hers.”

“Oh, I think that’s an exaggeration,” Nesta says sharply, trying to step away from Cassian.

He holds her closer. “No it’s not. We were roomies for over two months, remember?”

Morrigan winces, looking between the two of them. “Right,” she says slowly. “I keep forgetting that. Cassian is like this with everybody,” she says apologetically to Nesta. “Don’t take him too seriously.”

Nesta nods solemnly, wanting this conversation to be over. “I won’t.”

Her exit is made clear when the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” she says quickly, escaping from under Cassian’s arm.

Hurrying to the door, she swings it open.

Eris Vanserra stands looking irritated on the other side. He freezes when he sees Nesta, and then his face lifts into a smug grin. “Oh, this is too good.”

“So Cassian Madani was your sugar daddy all along?” Eris asks her later.

“Say sugar daddy one more time. I dare you.” Nesta stands near the stairs with her arms crossed, trying to pretend she isn’t associated with Eris. Which is more than a bit difficult when he keeps badgering her with questions, and Cassian is giving the two of them odd looks from across the room.

“I mean, what are the odds?” he laughs.

“My sister is dating his CEO brother.”

Eris throws her a look of surprise, but Nesta says, “How do you even know him?”

Eris sticks an hors d'oeuvre from a nearby platter in his mouth. “He manages security and logistics at every event Night Court is involved in. Can be a real pain in the ass to work with when I’m trying to get shit done for my dad’s company.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” she retorts.

They’re interrupted by Feyre and Rhys appearing before them, Feyre with her hostess smile and Rhysand with an inquisitive look on his face. Nesta can’t tell which one of them is more attached to the hip of the other.

“Eris,” Rhysand greets smoothly.

“I see you’re already acquainted with my sister,” Feyre says. Her tone is tense, either because she’s still pissed at Nesta or—even worse—she feels protective of her.

“We’re classmates,” Nesta says tightly. “Does it matter?”

Feyre tries not to look hurt. “No—I just didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Ladies,” a new voice says warningly. Cassian’s left whatever droll conversation he was stuck in and made his way over to them.

“Is the entire party congregating here?” Eris looks around himself.

“No, we are not,” Cassian says, all his usual friendliness gone around Eris. “I just came to ask Feyre to talk to the representatives from Spellbreaker before they pull all their money out of our latest operation.”

Feyre’s eyes go wide and her tattooed hand goes to her chest. “That’s not really my job—”

“Oh, come on, darling.” Rhysand slides a hand around her waist. “I’ll go with you; the art of negotiating is easier than it looks.”

Nesta nearly pukes in her mouth, but she maintains a careful blank face until Feyre and Rhysand are successfully out of sight. Cassian turns to Eris with a stony look. “You’re still here?”

Nesta sighs internally; this man has never hidden his feelings in his life.

Eris shares an amused glance with Nesta as if he’s thinking the same thing. “Is there anywhere else I should be right now?” he replies.

“Maybe in hell.”

Nesta claps a hand on Cassian’s shoulder and fakes a smile at Eris. “Tell your brother hi for me,” she says while pulling Cassian away. “I miss talking to a sensible redhead.”

“That’s because you have awful taste,” Eris calls after her. Nesta drags Cassian deep into the hallway, where no one lingers.

She releases him without flourish. “Are you doing okay? Because it seems like you’re having a harder time with this than I am.”

“I’m fine,” Cassian defends. “I was just hit with a terrible memory back there.”

“Like what?”

“That you’re friends with Eris.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. Friends is a very liberal term, but she won’t correct Cassian while he’s acting like this. “Thank you for helping with Feyre and Mor,” she says instead. “I didn’t need it, but I still appreciate it.” It’s a hard thing to admit, but she wants him to hear it.

“I was just trying to get you alone,” he says, leaning against the bathroom door. “I’ve been trying to get you alone all night.”

Nesta looks him up and down, from his white dress shirt and tied back hair to his uncharacteristically polished shoes. “For what?” she says warily. “If this is about a sex thing, don’t bother. There’s nowhere in this house for us to go without raising suspicion.”

Cassian pushes off the door with a dark look. “I wasn’t going to suggest staying in the house.” He holds a bronzed hand out toward her. “Wanna get out of here?”

***

Cassian doesn’t remember how he ever managed to fit all six-four of himself into the cramped backseat of his truck when he was fucking girls in college, but for Nesta he figures it out somehow.

Her pretty little dress is shoved down to her midriff, baring her arms and flushed breasts, and her skirt is bunched up high enough that Cassian can watch as he moves his fingers inside her. The glow of lights from the cabin lands on her perfect face as she throws her head back in pleasure, and he can only watch her in awe.

He laughs lowly when she whimpers and eases a third finger into her wet heat, in no rush to return to the party anytime soon. Let them all wonder where he and Nesta wandered off to.

But Nesta has far less patience than him; she pulls him in for a frenzied kiss and uses the distraction to slide her hand into his boxer briefs, palming his cock. He groans into her mouth as she pulls out the length of him from his unzipped pants, and it’s at that very moment that two voices interrupt their panting.

“Thanks,” a muffled female voice says from outside the truck. Cassian looks up through the dark tinted windows to find—Jesus Christ—Mor accepting a cigarette from Rhys. The two of them stand some feet away from the truck, unaware that anyone is occupying it.

“Some way to end the year,” Rhys is saying, watching the clear night sky. Nesta’s gone completely still beneath Cassian, not needing to get up and look to know who stands in the driveway. “Would have been even better without Nesta terrorizing Feyre at every turn.”

Sickness turns Cassian’s stomach at hearing such ugly words about Nesta come from his brother, but that sickness is quickly replaced by rage as Mor huffs a laugh. “She’s not that bad,” Mor says, taking a pull from her cigarette. “Though I could do without the attitude at every damn gathering.”

Rhys clicks his tongue. “She’s always been like that, even when the sisters were kids. It kills Feyre.”

Cassian glances down at Nesta, terrified of what he’s going to find on her face. But Nesta doesn’t look hurt or enraged like he expects. Instead, she’s listening closely with her brows furrowed, studiously intrigued.

Noticing Cassian’s attention on her, she meets his eyes and her breath hitches. A blush takes over her cheeks, and she clenches involuntarily around the fingers still deep inside her. Cassian realizes that his fury is written all over his face. And she likes it.

His anger at his friends flickers—or rather, transforms. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of Nesta. He sits up a bit straighter and kneels properly on the backseat, earning a curious look from her. Hunching so his head doesn’t hit the truck ceiling, he wraps his hands around her thighs and maneuvers her legs up, up until they’re hooked over his shoulders. She nearly chokes at the new position.

He adjusts them so his cock is pressed right up against her sex, and looks out the window again, where Rhys and Mor are still talking. It’s all idle gossip, he knows, but... “What do you think, baby?” He slides his length over her slick folds. “Should I go out there and defend your honor?”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta gasps, shaking her head.

“And it’s like when she’s not quiet as a brick, she’s being rude,” Mor rants outside, flicking her cigarette. “I know Cass is friendly with everybody, but I have no idea what he was thinking inviting her here.”

“Oh, she’s not so quiet when I have my head between her legs,” Cassian murmurs at Mor. He glances down at Nesta with a knowing smirk. “She’s not so rude when I give her the right incentive, either.” He pats her bottom lip with his thumb, the bright red lipstick smearing. “Isn’t that right, Nes?”

“Bastard.” Nesta squirms, trying to line up her entrance with the head of Cassian’s cock. She’s not even listening to the conversation outside anymore.

“I think he likes her,” Rhys says, his breath clouding in the freezing night air. If only he knew. “We don’t always use reason when it comes to people we like.”

“Maybe,” Mor ponders. “But I can’t imagine it going anywhere. They’re too different.”

“I disagree,” Cassian mutters. He finally gives in to Nesta’s efforts and pushes inside her, sliding to the hilt in one thrust. She claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her moan.

“There are plenty of things we have in common, don’t you think, Nesta?” He sets a steady rhythm with his hips, pumping in and out of her. “Like how well we fit together.” Her head bumps the car door with every thrust.

“You—you’re gonna rock the truck,” Nesta tries to whisper. Cassian hides his smile in the crook of her knee at the rare use of informal contraction. She’s adorable.

“We wouldn’t want that to happen,” he teases, leaning forward to take a pert nipple into his mouth. A whimper slips past her lips; she’s nearly bent in half beneath him. With this new, deeper angle, Cassian moves slow enough that Nesta feels every solid inch of him.

His loose hair falls around his face as he drops his head to the center of Nesta’s chest. It takes every bit of restraint he knows not to suckle at the space between her breasts, not to leave reddened marks there that everyone will be able to see when they go back inside. But damn if this position isn’t driving him crazy.

Mor, Rhys, everything beyond the haven of the truck falls away. He doesn’t know if anybody is still outside, or if people have noticed his and Nesta’s absence from the party. He doesn’t care, not as he swears and thrusts particularly deep into her tight warmth.

Even her hand can’t contain the sound she makes at that.

Cassian moves one of his own hands to the crown of Nesta’s head, creating a barrier between her and the car door. With his other arm, he locks her thighs into place against his chest, and begins slamming relentlessly into her.

“CassianCassianCassian—”

He silences her with a searing kiss, and flicks her clit with a calloused thumb. Nesta scrabbles at his arms, at the seat upholstery, as her orgasm crashes into her. Her walls milk his cock almost painfully, and with a few more thrusts he’s coming, too.

As he rides out his climax, he intertwines their fingers together and presses them to the freezing window. Outside, there is no one to see the handprint they leave on the fogged up glass.

***

Nesta needs a moment to catch her breath while Cassian zips himself up. Leaning against the hard truck door, she achingly fits one arm back into the sleeve of her dress, then the other. “I think I have a bruise from where that seatbelt buckle stabbed me in the ribs,” she mutters.

“Where?” Cassian looks her over, but she waves him away and reaches over to dig in the back pocket of the driver’s seat, finding a packet of makeup wipes she left there some weeks ago. She plucks out a wipe for herself and tosses the rest of the packet at Cassian’s chest, which is covered in her lipstick marks.

He accepts the wipes with a “thanks” and begins rubbing at his reddened mouth and neck. Nesta watches him instead of wiping at her own lipstick, taking in whatever the light of the moon highlights: his unbuttoned shirt, his loose hair that fell forward into her face while they fucked, his skin peppered with her marks.

He notices her stare. “What?” he says, smiling.

“Have you ever done that before?” She nods outside to where Mor and Rhys were standing ten minutes ago. It wasn’t exhibitionism since nobody had seen them, but it still felt... dirty.

Cassian snorts, starting to button up his shirt. “I’ve done far worse.” He meets her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten off to the sound of other people shit-talking my girl, though, so that’s new.”

Nesta blushes, and pretends to look around for her shoes to hide the reaction. She’s always known her bedroom experience was pathetically limited, but she’s just now starting to realize how much of that was Tomas’s fault. Not only was he boring when it came to sex, but he left her too hurt and untrusting to try anything with other men until Cassian came along.

Cassian nudges Nesta’s knee, and she finds him already holding her heels. Instead of letting her take them, he takes her feet and starts putting them on for her. “Clean yourself up,” he directs as he buckles a silver strap into place. “It’s almost an hour to midnight.”

Right. Cassian tosses her her panties, and she uses them to clean up the mess between her thighs before discarding them on the floor. “Don’t—” he tries to protest, but sighs and gives up. “You’re filthy.”

“You love it.” She picks up her forgotten makeup wipe to scrub at her smeared makeup. “Do I look okay?” She turns her face to him after a moment so he can check.

“You missed a spot.” He takes the wipe and rubs at her chin. “There,” he says softly, gazing more intimately at her than usual. “Beautiful.”

She most certainly doesn’t look beautiful right now, with the mess that’s been made of her face and hair. But he seems to believe it all the same.

I love you. The thought comes to her suddenly, unexpectedly.

“What?” Shock turns Cassian’s face.

Nesta blinks, realizing the words weren’t only in her head. “What?”

“You said—”

“I said ‘Let’s get out of here’,” she says quickly, swinging her legs down from the seat and reaching for the door handle. “Let’s go!”

She shoves out of the truck without waiting for Cassian and foots it for the cabin, breathing harshly like she just fell from a great height.

***

Nesta goes straight to the master bedroom to redo her makeup and pick up a new pair of underwear. She knows it’s cowardly to leave Cassian downstairs, stuck chatting with wealthy donors and unable to follow her, but she won’t let him confront her about the confession that spilled back in the truck. Not yet.

When she finally finds the courage to stick her head out of the room, she nearly jumps at the sight of Azriel leaning against the hallway wall.

“What are you doing in my brother’s room?” he says, as if he was waiting for her to come out.

The best lies are half-truths. “Avoiding people,” she answers vaguely, exiting the room fully and shutting the door behind her. She clears her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Snooping.” He pushes off the wall and slides his hands into his pockets. “It’s interesting; I don’t think I’ve seen you all night, and now I find you in Cassian’s bedroom of all places.”

What is this, an interrogation? “I’m good at blending in,” Nesta says. “Few people ever notice me.”

“And I’m good at observing,” Azriel retorts, dark amusement gleaming in his gaze. “Where did you run off to earlier?”

Nesta looks him up and down, too bored to bother answering him. “I’m going to go now.” She shoves past his shoulder and walks away, leaving him too stunned to follow.

She comes across Elain near the top of the stairs.

“Nesta,” her sister says in surprise. Her brown eyes flicker past Nesta’s shoulder, to where Azriel still lurks in the hallway. She looks back to Nesta. “I wasn’t sure if you actually came tonight. I haven’t seen you at all.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hanging around.” Nesta waves a dismissive hand. It’s like Christmas Eve never happened between them. That’s the wonderful and terrible thing about sisters, Nesta supposes: there are no apologies, only moving on and moving past.

“Well, you look like you’re doing good.” Elain seems distracted. “I wish we could talk more, but I don’t have time for a fight tonight.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Azriel says, who’s snuck up behind Nesta. “If it’s me you’re worried about, I was just about to leave.” He’s addressing Elain, but won’t quite look her in the eyes. He turns to Nesta instead. “Happy New Year.” And then he’s gone down the stairs.

Elain stands there looking torn, wondering if she should go after him or not, but then Nesta says, “Why do you assume I would start a fight?”

“I—”

“Because if I remember correctly, our last fight was started by you.” She crosses her arms.

Elain sighs. “I just said I don’t have time for this.”

“I’m asking a question in response to a comment you made unprovoked.” When Nesta is calm, she can talk circles around Elain all night.

Elain throws her hands up. “It was just a stupid comment! I said it because we argue all the time. I can’t remember the last time we talked without arguing.”

“September twenty-eighth,” Nesta snaps.

Elain’s mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. You got the loan for your flower shop approved and you called me to celebrate. I was happy for you.”

Elain shakes her head, but Nesta can’t read what she’s feeling. “You remember the most inconsequential things.”

It doesn’t sound like an insult, so Nesta shrugs. “Don’t bother me and I won’t bother you.” She turns to go on her way. Of course, Elain doesn’t stop her. She’s never been one to get in the last word.

***

It’s ten minutes to midnight and Cassian still hasn’t been able to get a hold of Nesta since she ran from the truck. He doesn’t know why she’s running from such a simple truth, but he doesn’t plan on giving her much more time to hide. He has so much he needs to say to her—

A hand comes down on his shoulder as he’s about to slip away upstairs to find Nesta. Cassian turns to find Rhysand there, wearing the serious face he only uses for work-related business. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Cassian is not in the mood. He already had to repress the urge to find Mor and Rhys and tear into them when he returned to the party, and now he’s not sure if he can manage a conversation with his brother without snapping. Without spilling everything he’s worked so hard to hide.

“Not now,” Cassian says, trying to act chill. “It’s almost midnight and I’m trying to catch the...” He trails off as his eyes catch on Nesta, who’s appeared at the second floor sitting area with Eris.

“...fireworks,” he finishes. He turns to Rhys. “Let’s go upstairs to watch.” Half the guests, including the rest of his friends, are probably already outside for the countdown.

He keeps his eyes on Nesta as he climbs the stairs. Watching as she takes notice of him and quickly turns away, smiling at Eris instead. She lets the dickhead place his hand on her back to guide her out to the balcony.

Rage and disbelief take Cassian by the throat. Hiding in another man’s arms to avoid him? Coward fucking move, Archeron.

She steps outside with Eris, and before Cassian can follow he’s stopped once again by Rhys grabbing his arm. “Cass, will you slow down and listen to me for a minute?”

“What is it?” he snaps impatiently. They’re stopped at the top of the stairs, and other guests flow past them as they head for the balcony doors.

Rhys inhales, getting visibly irritated. He says, “I got a call from one of our overseas partners the other day—”

“Rhys!” Feyre calls from the balcony doors, waving her arms at him. “Get your ass over here, it’s almost midnight!”

Rhys turns to his girlfriend, his face lightening. “Be right there, darling.” He gives Cassian a sharp look. “We’ll finish this later.”

Cassian only nods and whirls on his heel, nearly shoving people out of his way to get outside. To get to Nesta.

Up on the wraparound balcony and down below on the frosty ground, guests are lined up with their partners, wrapped up in coats and eagerly awaiting midnight. He barely feels the cold, but he knows Nesta must. He should have grabbed a coat for her.

“Thirty seconds to midnight!” someone announces, answered by loud cheers.

Spotting shining red hair, Cassian grabs Eris by the suit jacket and whirls him around. “Where’s Nesta?” he demands over the loud chatter.

Eris makes a face like he’s been manhandled by a filthy dog. “Clearly not with me,” he retorts, shoving Cassian’s hand off him. “She got all pissy and went that way.” He gestures at a faraway section of balcony where most of the guests are crowding, hoping for an optimal view of the fireworks.

“TEN!” Someone starts the countdown. Others quickly catch on.

“NINE!” Cassian heads in the direction Eris pointed, searching through the sea of glitter and gold for a glimpse of Nesta.

“EIGHT!” He hears his friends calling after him distantly, asking where he’s going.

“SEVEN!” He catches sight of Nesta.

“SIX!” He doesn’t know what he’s thinking as he navigates through the crowd, reaching for her. But he knows she’s shining brighter than the moon right now. He knows he’s been fooling himself since the moment she stepped into his cabin this past September.

“FIVE!”

He closes in on her, her back turned to him.

“FOUR!”

Let’s not go out of our way to hide this anymore, they agreed after Christmas Eve. Let’s just be ourselves around our friends and family, and they’ll find out when they find out.

“THREE!”

In Cassian’s defense, he’s simply being himself in this moment.

“TWO!”

He takes Nesta by the elbow and spins her around. She meets his eyes in surprise. “Cassian. I was looking for you—”

“ONE!”

He pulls her into his arms and kisses her.

***

a/n: punk 57 was a shit book but i gotta give it credit for the truck scene

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au #for some reason i’m not showing up in the tags??#i’m gonna kill everybody

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seijoh-apologist · 4 years ago

Text

stupidly in like with you | miya atsumu

pairing: post-timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader word count: 14.6k (OOPS LMFAO) genre: friends to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, and like a few too many pages of fluffy smut -- third person pov for the most part. NSFW. synopsis: Atsumu and Y/N are good friends, maybe feelings are involved but Y/N isn’t his type. OR Y/N and Atsumu are most definitely in like with each other but for whatever reason aren’t dating.

A/N: hi so this is my first “published” hq fic but like here is this thought that I had and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. it’s mostly edited thanks to my irl friend but bare with my run on sentences and (slightly excessive) use of profanity. any feedback would be appreciated b/c I have more thoughts for other characters and I'd love to share haha.

To say Y/N was annoyed was an understatement.

Aching feet begged for relief, the sweat-soaked shirt, though cute, had begun to cling to that one fold in her side that made her the slightest bit hyper aware of the “stress weight” she swears she's put on during the holiday season. And the music was absolute shit, shuffling between mash-ups of the Top 100 trending songs and some weird EDM-Indie music that she would pay good money to never hear again.

To put it plainly, she was not in the mood to be out of her home, much less celebrate. But she had agreed to come out, never being able to say no to Sakusa, who silently pleaded with his eyes to take on “babysitting” responsibilities of his teammates for tonight. He had paid for her dinner several times before tonight, claiming that she should save her money - “you should spend your money on getting a better mattress, so we don’t have to hear you complain about it anymore.” - the least she could do was give him a night to himself, away from the chaos that was the rest of the MSBY team.

Besides, it's not like she was asked to stalk them or anything - they were friends after all, so really it was just like she was tagging along for a night of club hopping, taking shots that she didn’t have to pay for, and simply people watching in between trips to the dancefloor. And normally, she’d be enjoying the night - it's just that of all nights to come out and celebrate, it had to be at the end of one of the most stress-inducing, aggravating weeks of her young adult life.

Checking that it was well after one in the morning, she sipped water from her straw, swivelling to face the crowd from her (stolen) seat at the bar, in hopes of catching the attention of someone in her party that could get the hint that they should probably get ready to go. What she did not expect to find, however, was Atsumu, flitting his eyes away from her figure as he leaned down to talk to a pair of girls. It could just be a friendly gesture, asking him if he was who they think he was and him responding but it sent a less than pleasant feeling in her stomach, so she swiveled back, reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her suddenly too tight pants.

“Fuck me,” she huffs out upon seeing that her phone battery has fallen to thirty percent, which would be just delightful when it would be time to call the ubers home. She could now rule out aimlessly scrolling through Twitter for the rest of the night while waiting for her friends.

“Uh.. maybe slip in a ‘please’ and I’m yours.”

Y/N’s eyes all but bugged out her head at the response that came from her left. The voice belongs to a guy, a very cute guy. The kind of cute guy that you see on Instagram explore page before it refreshes so the chances of seeing him again are nonexistent.She sputters out a delayed apology, double-time since she realized that she’s now taken a little too long to respond to him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I should be apologizing for interrupting you, it's just.... You looked a little lonely over here. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Seat’s all yours... but you’re on your own if those people from before come back to reclaim them.” She hums, sliding her phone back into her pocket and shifting her legs slightly in the direction of his seat.

“Scared of a little fight?” He hums, arching a brow before taking a swig of his beer. He has nice hands. Y/N muses to herself as she watches the stranger’s fingers flex slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. She’s always of the mind that a person’s hands say a lot about them.

“Mmm no… just too tired to defend myself, much less a random stranger.” He laughs at that, nodding his head before replying that “most pretty girls don’t openly say they can fight.”

“Oh you’re cheesy, aren’t you? Nobody straight up tells a girl they’re pretty for no real reason.”

“Actually,” Shifting his beer bottle onto the bar, he holds out his hand to her. “My name is not cheesy, it’s -”

“Y/N! There you are!”

The call of her name makes her jump slightly, before she feels the familiar warmth of a hand on her back. The same hand worms its way to her hip, fingers slipping into that soft fold just above her pants, the warmth of his next words being felt just above her ear. “Where the hell’ve ya been? Was lookin’ all over the place for ya, Bo and Shoyo were worried ya left without us!”

“Been right here, idiot. We lost our original seats so I’d figure you’d come to the bar at some point and I could’ve waved you down.” She shifts slightly, turning her shoulder back towards the cute stranger with an apologetic look in her eye, to which he smiles and opens his mouth to respond until Atsumu cuts him off again, his hand gripping the back of her neck to make her give him her total attention.

“Right well I’m starving - let's get outta here. Kinda craving your infamous drunk noodles, or maybe a McDonald’s on the way home, yeah?”

Y/N nods slightly, turning back towards the stranger to see that he’s already slinking back into the crowd. Once she fully loses him, she shoves her elbow into the blonde’s side, telling him to “shut it” when he throws out a huff of pain.

“Thank you, ‘Tsumu… could’ve had a different ride home but nooooo.. Needed to come in here with all your glory talking about you being starving despite the fact that you can afford a personal chef.” She huffs out and slides off her stool, but he’s not listening. Instead he’s holding her by the shoulders and pushing her through the crowd, excusing the two of them as she continues to rant and rave at him. Once outside, the pair are joined with the rest of the party, who have called a few separate ubers home. “And to top it off, I know you’re not even listening right now - you never listen to me, Miya. I don’t know how your teammates put up with you… how do you put up with this shit, hmm?”

The group of teammates laugh softly and shake their heads, giving answers that “they get paid” to put up with him, and that Miya Atsumu is actually “a decent friend,” a fact that she knows is true but chooses to ignore when convenient for her. Atsumu just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, pulling her into the direction of their uber for their journey back to his place. She greets the driver and settles into her seat, as Atsumu calls out behind him something or other to someone. The slam of the door and clicking of seatbelts is what fills the silence in the car, music softly playing from the rear speakers, as Atsumu leans his head back against the headrest.

“So I take it yer coming to stay with me for tonight?”

“Hmm.. don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” She teases to which Atsumu slightly pouts, reaching to knuckle at his eyes that suddenly feel a little too heavy. “You owe me the biggest breakfast fathomable tomorrow.”

“Why’s it that I owe you when I paid for your dinner before going out, paid for your drinks tonight, and am letting you sleep in my bed - which is infinitely better than your cheap ass - hey!” He begins his ranting, which would be cut off by a sturdy flick to the forehead and a slight “hush” before he feels her head rest up on his shoulder.

Y/N and Atsumu had been friends for a little while, when she chased him down the middle of the road, claiming to the public that he was a thief, just because he’d grabbed the wrong umbrella on the way out of the restaurant they were both eating in. He’d tried to apologize, but she traded umbrellas and walked back towards the direction of the restaurant. He had chalked it up to nothing really, just a slight mistake and minor inconvenience for the girl. At least until a certain teammate’s birthday dinner, where said stranger was- only this time sitting and chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi as if they’d been best friends for forever (which in all fairness, Y/N and Kiyoomi had only been friends since college, where they were forced into a friendship by their roommates, who were hooking up with each other and forced the two on double dates). This second meeting was a sign to Atsumu, a sign that for whatever reason this girl was supposed to be in his life, in some capacity or another - but he did royally fuck it up a second time by trying to flirt with Y/N, who laughed and asked if his opening line was really the best he’d had, before hitting him with an opening line that still makes him flush when he thinks about it today.

The ride to Atsumu’s home isn’t long, but it's long enough for the tiredness to seep into Y/N’s bones, who barely misses the quiet way that Atsumu’s fingers have taken home at the base of her neck, massaging gently at the tenseness he feels under the pads of his fingers.

“Someone’s tired… why didn’t you stay home?” He asks as they turn onto his street, letting his fingers fall away from her as he begins to check that they have everything they need. ”’t’s a good thing yer sleeping over at mine... and no couch for you. Your neck is all kinds of tense. It's a miracle you haven’t complained ‘bout it once tonight.”

“Shh.. you’re so loud for what?” She mumbles while trying to stifle a yawn. “So if I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch then where am I supposed to sleep then, boy genius? The floor?”

“No,” Atsumu answers seriously, brow slightly wrinkled as he reaches for his keys in his pocket. “You’ll sleep with me. In my bed. ‘t’s a cooling mattress so you won’t haffta complain that yer too hot.”

“Miya, last time I slept in a bed with you, you nearly suffocated me. Dunno if I really wanna have to deal with trying to roll you onto your back again.”

“Wait a minute! To be fair, my bed was smaller then so there was less room for the both of us.” He begins, opening the door and shutting it before turning the two of them towards the entrance to his apartment building. “Second of all, it was my first time sharing a bed with someone other than ‘Samu so ya shouldn’t blame me for not having proper sleep manners.”

The first steps into Atsumu’s home consists of the pair kicking off their shoes, debating lightly on who was gonna take over the shower first. Y/N slides her feet into the slippers that are specifically her slippers in his home and slinks off towards the kitchen, as Atsumu peels off his shirt and heads towards the shower. It feels comfortable, almost like a routine, as Y/N gathers eggs and two noodle packets to make them a small meal before bed. Moments later, Atsumu is coming out of the shower, towelling off his hair before settling onto the sofa, clicking on the T.V. as Y/N comes in with the two bowls of noodles. A silent agreement is met when they finish that Atsumu would wash the dishes as Y/N showered, taking a shirt from his drawers to sleep in

She hands him a bottle of aspirin, mumbling around the toothbrush to “take two or so help me.” Moments later she joins him in bed, slipping on a pair of socks that are two sizes too big for her before settling under the plush fabric of his comforter. He shifts over closer to her after tossing his phone on the nightstand, seeking out her form in the now dim room for a small cuddle before dozing off. She willingly accepts him too, sliding her body just under his and buries her face in his skin, still warm from the too-hot shower he is prone to taking in the name of muscle relaxation. He hums slightly as their feet tangle together, silently appreciating the way Y/N so freely indulges his need to touch someone after being touch-starved for so long.

Though Y/N isn’t much like him in that sense - doesn’t have this inherent need to cling to someone before bed, or just hold hands at a store, or hands on the shoulder in a crowded room. Sometimes she will, like now with her nose buried in his neck and her hand rubbing up and down the length of his sturdy back. Normally they won’t do this, both just a little too headstrong to dig into the tightening in their chests when the hug for a moment longer than usual; but tonight Y/N is silently congratulating him on winning the game that has had him stressed for weeks. She feels his lips press softly to the top of her head, a mumble of “good night” leaving his lips as she feels his breaths even out as the moments pass.

This is where Y/N wishes she had the power to pull away - blames moments like this on giving her the slightest bit of hope that they could be more than friends.

It's not that she hadn’t thought about it - frankly she’d spent too much time thinking about it. She could do this… with him.. But every thought is put to bed when she thinks back on this one conversation months ago. Granted she didn’t have the full context of the conversation but it's enough to make her heart squeeze when she sees Atsumu flirt with someone, or shake off his hand when she’s had a particularly sensitive day.

It was just another evening where hanging out after him and the rest of the team being away for a week. They’d ordered in food and drinks had been flowing nicely as the comfortable pair had caught up - it was honestly too homey of a setting in hindsight. His phone rang, the white text of “‘Samu” flashed and Y/N took that as a cue to finally get to the restroom.

“Mhm.. made it back early today - no Y/N picked me up.” He’d been mumbling around a handful of chips, the other side of the conversation mute to Y/N’s eavesdropping.. “Oh shut up, she doesn’t mind and it's not as if we’re dating anyway. It’s.. casual and it works for us.”

And she should’ve stepped into her place next to him, cuddled up into her chest and played the role of the blissfully ignorant idiot. But no, she stayed tucked behind the restroom door, blood pumping and heart beating too loud in her ears. It would seem as though Y/N was a glutton for punishment, a minor thing when thinking about putting herself through a moment of pain for a lifetime of pleasure - but the pain that came with Miya Atsumu’s next words would set her off kilter for a while.

“Besides, she’s not really my type. It’d never work out anyway.”

She had no choice really other than to shut the door. Take some extra time in the restroom than necessary - after all she’d just hear the potential love of her life admit to his twin brother that she wasn’t his type. All she could do really was stare at herself in the stupidly bright mirror in his stupid guest bathroom of his stupidly expensive apartment. God this is so stupid, she thinks to herself while running cold water to press against her cheeks that she feels are heated up. Before she can really tear her own heart to bits though, she hears a quick rapt on the door.

“Y/N ya’right in there? Warned y’bout putting too much hot sauce on your food.”

But that’d been two years ago. It was a little rough after that; Y/N had thrown herself into finding a life post-grad which was a great distraction from the rumors going around that Atsumu had been spotted with some model or actress or something. Besides, Y/N wasn’t really the type to harp on failed romantic interests - all she’d need to do is download whatever relevant dating app for some validation and she’d be able to move on. However nights like tonight, when he looked too good and the little moment was a little too right - she’d still hope. Make a wish to whatever angle number or shooting star or deity above that she’d get tossed a chance to be in love with the stupid setter, because she had already fallen.

“Mm y’right?” She heard him, how could she not when he’s practically suffocating her. She chooses not to answer though, humming affirmatively - to which he huffs and shifts slightly, settling back into unconsciousness.

Maybe she’d blame the train of thoughts for tonight on the fact that she’d been drinking. However, come morning, the seed would bloom a little brighter in her chest when she wakes up to realize that her face is pressed into his side, arms circling his slim waist and one sock lost among their tangled legs.

---

God she hated him. Miya Atsumu was too much of a lot of things - too much of a sore winner, too much of an idiot, too much of a talker, and most of all, too much of a liar.

For the second time in the span of a month, Atsumu had convinced her to come out, despite her desperately wanting to curl up in bed and binge eat away the stress of the week. Only this time it was a charity event, so she would definitely be the bad guy if she said no. It was an event where him and the rest of his team had been roped into a charity dinner - which (gratefully) meant that Sakusa would be around, and they could fuck off to a corner someplace to talk shit about what all the rich wives are wearing and how bad it looks when their husbands are flirting with the wait staff. But Atsumu had promised that they’d leave before the entree was served - swore the entire drive over that “we’ll get you back home in time, grandma” and that he’d even cook for her this time.

But the entree had been whisked off about forty minutes ago, her wine glass had been refilled twice, and she was bored of watching Sakusa look at his watch, waiting for an appropriate time to leave. Atsumu was a few tables away, chatting up some couple, something about wanting to get their information for Osamu’s business. He would laugh a little too loudly at their jokes, gaining attention of those at surrounding tables - which was only mildly irritating as he had now gathered a crowd of people around him, spewing off some story about him getting lost in Russia the first time they played overseas.

She huffs and stands up, chair scraping slightly, gaining the attention of the rest of the table. All she does is hold up her wine glass in a feeble attempt at an answer of where she’d be waiting at the bar. If I have to be here, the least I could do is drink for free. The bar is empty, surprisingly no one wants to mope around this very nice dinner.

“What can I get you?”

“Mmm.. whiskey highball, please.” She answers to the unnecessarily cute bartender, but the raise of his eyebrows do not go unnoticed. And fortunately (or unfortunately) she’s got the time to press him. “Surprised?”

“Only a little bit. Noticed you were drinking wine most of the night so the whiskey is a hard switch.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” She muses, smiling as he places the drink in front of her. He smiles and leans forward on the bar slightly, shaking his head and replying.

“It’s almost as if… I’m being paid to make sure people have their drinks.”

“Oh, so it's not because I’m cute?”

“Now I didn’t say that did I? But you know you’re gorgeous; your boyfriend over there must tell you all the time.” He muses, a smirk playing at his lips as he nods behind her. She all but chokes on her drink when she turns around and sees that the direction he nodded in was directly in Atsumu’s vicinity before shaking her head violently. Atsumu was not going to ruin this for her. “Oh so not your boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ as she slips the straw past her lips again, eyes taking in his leaning form. He was cute. His hair was on the silver side of blond, tips of his hair black. He was tall and lean, a piercing hanging from his left ear.

“That’s a shame.” And she gives him her name with a flutter of her lashes and a sweet smile. He returns it, preparing her next drink without her even having to ask. And so they talk, first about how the next person who approaches the bar should be cut off, to how pretentious the whole event was. Two drinks in, Y/N finds herself being invited to a show.

“This whole bartending thing is just a way for me to get some extra cash… I’ve got a gig in an hour. I figured if we leave together now, I can get you home to change outta this and into something a little more… concert fitting?”

“O-Oh.. yeah. I just need to go let my friend know…” She trails off, sliding off her barstool before turning to gracefully power walking to her initial seat next to Sakusa. She huffs and she plots herself down in the char next to him, to which he gives her a look of what the fuck. “I don’t have time to catch you up, but the insanely hot bartender is taking me home. As much as I’d love to get out of here with you, I desperately need to get lai-”

“Going somewhere?” Fuck fuck fuck.

“Didn’t you hear her? The hot bartender is taking her home and she needs -”

“Aishhhh shut up.” She turns to look at her curly haired friend, only to see that he’s got this annoying little smile on his face. She deeply exhales and turns back to Atsumu, who looks less than amused about what his friend said. “Listen, you promised me we’d leave two hours ago. Well you lied so nooow I made plans, so if you would kindly move outta my way.”

“No.” She whips her head up at the blonde. No? What the absolute fuck was he going on about telling her no, despite her not asking for his permission. “You’ve been drinking and you don’t even know the guy - how can you trust that he won’t memorize your address then come rob you or something? I promised to take you home, and since you’re ready now we can leave now.”

“Listen Miya, I appreciate the concern but really I’m a big girl. I can handle a night out by myself with a guy - besides I’m not even that drunk. Now, give me my house keys and move out of my way.”

Suddenly, it's like those cheesy western movies where two cowboys are staring each other down, neither willing to be put down by the other. Except it's this 6’2” pro-athlete staring quite literally down at Y/N, who hits the gym only on a blue moon and spends too much time sitting at a desk. Sakusa has to laugh at the two stubborn idiots in front of him; he knows that Atsumu is going to be able to win this little game that they're playing, but silently applauds Y/N for attempting to stick it to him. Moments pass before Atsumu finally sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit and pulling out her keys - but he doesn’t give them to her.

“What’s his name? If you can tell me his name I’ll give you your keys and let you go.”

“Let me go? Okay, Dad.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, small clutch dangling from her wrist. “I know his name, Atsumu. I may have had a drink or two but I’m not an idiot to be going off with someone who’s name I don’t even know... it’s… uhm.” And she’s done. She hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, doesn’t even remember whether she gave him hers, nor was she smart enough to notice whether he’d been wearing a name tag. Mentally she’s cursing herself, chancing a glance behind Atsumu’s shoulder to see the hot bartender chatting it up with another girl. Before she can think too much into it, Atsumu sighs deeply, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair next to her and slipping it on his shoulders, a soft “let’s go” leaving his lips as he nods his good-bye to the rest of the table. Y/N chews at the inside of her cheek before grabbing his arm.

“Give me my keys. I’m not going home with you. I want to be alone.”

---

Four days passed - four days of Atsumu borderline harassing Y/N with apologies. Promising to make it up to her. Which is how she finds herself walking into their favorite local sushi restaurant - it's the only one that has self-serving sushi that arrives on a miniature train, and it's also the only place that they go when apologies are to be exchanged. In the handful of years that they’d be friends, Y/N has needed to apologize to Atsumu thrice - two for blowing him off after overhearing the dreaded words and once for saying that maybe Osamu was the better twin. Atsumu on the other hand, had apologized to Y/N many times - so many times in fact that Y/N is sure that he makes up excuses just so they can come eat at this sushi place.

It’s been a long week for Y/N. The Sunday after the charity event, Y/N wakes up with one of the worst headaches of her life - and its due to the fact that she slept like shit hoping that Atsumu made it home safe since he hadn’t texted her he did. Monday she was handed a stack of documents at work that needed to get done before lunch (which didn’t get done). Tuesday morning was dominated by the fact that some idiot on the train to work had spilt a coffee on her, making her wear the most uncomfortable suit jacket, lest she wear a coffee soaked shirt for most of the day. Today, Wednesday, she’d woken up to a box with a pastry outside her door and a cup of coffee with a sticky note on the lid.

Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Train Sushi? 7pm?

Despite the fact that she was most definitely still thinking about why Atsumu acted the way he did - she still went through the mountain of paperwork on her desk with a little smile, knowing that she’d be getting free sushi and an apology. Maybe if she’s lucky, she can convince him that she needs a crepe on the way home.

As she makes her way into the restaurant that evening, she sees him. His dorito-shaped body is stationed at the bar, a cozy brown coat hugging his back, muscles of his arms being squeezed by the sleeves. She can see that he’s got a drink in front of him and she smiles slightly, stepping up towards the bar but stops momentarily. He’s talking to someone - not just someone, a girl. He’s smiling too. Y/N can’t see the stranger’s face, but judging by the way that she has a hand around his biceps and her head tilted, one can only assume that they know each other. Y/N attempts to step backwards, she wants to let him finish his conversation with the woman but she doesn’t know if she can stomach the idea of watching them flirt; but she misses the step, leading her to bump into the hostess who led her to the bar, creating a bit of a scene.

“Y/N! There you are! C’mere.”

She’s buying time by profusely apologizing to the hostess, who honestly is probably just trying to get away. At this point, Y/N has no choice but to walk towards her friend and this mystery woman. The ten steps towards the pair is enough time for Y/N to mentally list off all the things she could have done in the world to warrant some shitty karma that’s hitting her now. Once face to face with Atsumu, she smiles.

“Sorry - long day at work got me all …” Y/N’s words trail off, the hand that’s not death-gripping her purse waves off with her closing thoughts.

“Don’t mind, Wednesday’s are usually your long days. ‘Sides you’re here now - tha’s what matters.” God he’s so dumb. So handsome and so dumb, and god did she miss him. “It’s a good thing you got here a little late, this is Michimiya Yui. I think you two might’ve -”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met! It’s so nice to meet you - he used to talk about you all the time!” The brunette smiles at Y/N, sticking her hand out, which Y/N takes limply, shaking her hand. She’s pretty, Y/N thinks to herself. Her hair is short and she’s wearing some cute leather thigh high boots, her smile is almost paid-for perfect. She’s got this whole brown smoked out eyeliner working for her, which makes Y/N slightly subconscious about her most likely smudged and uneven eyeliner and less-than appealing work pants. Before Y/N can even think of a response to give, Michimiya has her hand back on Atsumu, a pretty smile settling on her lips. It feels like Y/N is watching a trainwreck happening before her eyes. “I was just telling Atsumu that I was back in town and that we should hang out!”

“And I was just explaining to her that I had plans with yo-”

“You should join us!” Idiot. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Atsumu looks over at Y/N with a wild look in his eyes, Michimiya looks like a child who wound up making out with two candies instead of one. “I had a super long day at work today so I’m really only able to eat dinner, but I know Atsumu can stay up for hours so once I leave you two can hang out.”

“Y/N, I thought that -”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I just need to tell the wait staff to cancel my to-go order, so excuse me.”

And so the two friends watch the woman walk away from them, making her way towards the to-go order area. Y/N bites at the inside of her cheek, intentionally avoiding Atsumu’s eyes that she feels are pinned on her. She digs out her phone from her purse, texting Sakusa an ominous “next time you see me, please poison me 😑.” As Y/N drags her eyes up Atsumu’s front, she feels the same way she did when she would get scolded by her parents. His eyes are staring at her face, no doubt wanting to press her about why she willingly invited a stranger to eat with them at their restaurant. To pacify him, all she does is hold up her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Miya. Like you said, Wednesday’s are my long days so I wouldn’t be able to stay out late with you anyway. Besides…” She starts, fixing a smile onto her face. “I think that she might have a little crush on you!” He says nothing, lips pressed in a hard line and a brow arched up at her. “Don’t look at me like that. And save your apology for next time… we have company.”

The rest of the evening goes exactly like Y/N’s worst nightmare. She is quite literally the third-wheel despite the fact that technically Michimiya was supposed to be the third wheel in this little scenario. Y/N has to watch the pretty brunette flirt relentlessly with Atsumu, who seems blissfully oblivious to the fact that for every compliment Michimiya gives Y/N, she gives herself two more. Sakusa is well informed on the situation, receiving texts every five minutes with another dumb thing that was said in front of Y/N’s appatizers. Rarely does someone ever wish for a natural disaster to hit, but in the last thirty minutes of sitting at this table, Y/N has wished for every biblical curse to wreak havoc in her way.

Despite the fact that Michimiya has hijacked every conversation, Atsumu still tries to ask Y/N about her, including her in the conversation as much as possible. But Y/N stopped trying twenty minutes ago, and is now forcing herself to eat the last few pieces of sushi she ordered - normally she’s a stress eater, but Michimiya has rested her hand on Atsumu’s thigh and Y/N has suddenly never felt more sick in her life. Y/N has never once picked up a tab around Atsumu - “please, ‘ve got more money than I know whatta do wit’it” he’d always tell her when she attempted to take up the ticket - but when they finally wave down someone and ask for the check, Y/N drops some cash on the table and collects her things.

“It’s been so nice to meet you, but I think I should really get going. I’ve gotta get to work early tomorrow - I’ll see you this weekend right, Miya?”

“Wait up, I’ll take you home… Yui it’s been really -”

“No no, really it's okay! You stay! I’ll just text you when I get home. Be safe. And again it was so nice to meet you - take care of Atsumu for me.”

“Oh I will!”

Y/N is not a runner but she’s never sprinted away from a situation so fast in her life. The image of Michimiya’s sly little smile at Y/N’s request to take care of her friend makes her feel gross, tears stinging at the back of her eyes and she settles on the train. Y/N can name a handful of times when she’d seen Atsumu around women - but never once had she’d met someone he was romantically involved with and it hurts. The gentle sway of the train does nothing to settle the spinning of her head with images of what Atsumu actually looks for - his actual type. She feels like an idiot; she should have just told Atsumu that they could do a raincheck, or if she was feeling bold, she could’ve told Michimiya to fuck off. The latter seems possible in the version of herself in Y/N’s head, but the reality was that she was too nice. Always wanted to make the people she cares about happy, and Atsumu looked... happy? Besides, Y/N thinks to herself as she exits the train and makes the trek towards her apartment building, if Michimiya Yui was going to be involved with Atsumu, the more exposure she had to her, the better off Y/N would be in accepting that Atsumu would never ever be with Y/N like that.

Once settled in her apartment, she sends off a quick “home. thanks for tonight!” to Atsumu before making her way to the bathroom. A nice warm soak would surely make her feel better, make her forget about what an idiot she is and maybe, just maybe, make her body relax all the love she holds in her heart for the blond away. Her phone pings, twice, but she ignores it. Ten minutes into her pity soak she hears a bang on her door, which only makes her groan and dunk her head under the water. The banging stops, making Y/N think it was just her neighbor or something asking for a favor. What she doesn’t expect is for her to exit the bath twenty minutes later to see Sakusa Kiyoomi sittin on her couch.

“Hello, glad to see you exploiting your spare key access.”

“Miya called me and said you looked like shit earlier. And judging by your texts throughout the evening, I figured you were on the brink of a breakdown.”

And so she was. She spent the rest of the evening talking Kiyoomi through the night, slipping in all the questions she’s had from the past two times that Atsumu had cockblocked her. And bless Kiyoomi for sitting through her tears, sitting cross-legged and drinking tea that he had initially made for her but refused to let her drink once he realized she had already brushed her teeth. It felt almost like she was finally thinking about what her friendship with Miya Atsumu was, what it could and couldn’t be. Every moment painted so clearly about how Y/N felt for her blond friend, but the only thing missing was how said friend felt about her. At 11:30 pm, two hours after Kiyoomi initially arrived at Y/N’s apartment, she pushed Kiyoomi out the door, eyes puffy but heart and head a little clearer than how they were when he arrived.

Despite promising Kiyoomi that she would not think about Atsumu, as Y/N settles into bed, her thoughts can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She mulls it over as she slides off her socks, deciding that it’d be nice - probably exactly how they are now, plus a title and a little less swatting his hands away when he reaches for her in public. Y/N can’t help it as she thinks about whether they would kiss a lot - they’ve kissed before, neither strangers to cheek kisses as greetings or kisses at the top of their heads when the other is crying into their chest (there was even that very drunk kiss they shared on New Years Eve when their friendship was fresh that both still have warm cheeks about when they think about). Just as she’s about to go down the path of whether Atsumu would spend more nights with her at her cardboard box of an apartment or her at his, Y/N cuts herself off - after all she wasn’t his type. Tonight proved that more than anything, she thinks.

It’s not like Atsumu has never brought anyone around Y/N - there’d been a few that she’d met, though they were mostly over a facetime call and it was mostly just her waving at them before Atsumu ducked away to have a private conversation. It's not like tonight was the first night Y/N had to swallow the bile in her mouth at seeing someone make heart eyes at Atsumu - it's just this time felt different; almost like Y/N was finally having the truth thrusted into her face. But Y/N isn’t mad or hateful of Michimiya, nor Atsumu for that matter - she’d never been the type to hate a girl for having feelings for the person she has feelings for. It’s annoying, sure, but Y/N doesn’t see the point in hating someone for how they feel - however, Y/N does not make the effort to become friends with these girls, or maintain the close friendship with Atsumu for that matter. Is it petty to put a strain on a friendship out of fear of losing said friendship? Absolutely! But Y/N knows she won’t be able to stomach another night like tonight - another night of seeing Atsumu slip so easily from her fingers into the arms of another. And as observant as Atsumu is, he never fully recognizes that Y/N is avoiding him, at least that what she hopes since more often than he’s able to worm himself back into her life.

---

Following the failed apology dinner, Y/N tried her hardest to give herself a few days without the blonde- made easy by the fact that the weekend after the failed apology dinner he’d be out of town for another tournament. It’s not like she was totally avoiding him, she’d responded to his texts and even answered two of his six facetime calls while he was away, she just wanted a little bit of time to wallow in self pity in her apartment, crying over her comfort movies and eating too many bags of hot chips. But once he was back in the same timezone as her, Atsumu made it impossible for Y/N to fully wallow.

It started when he texted her about their favorite crepe place temporarily closing for some reason or other - he’d tried to convince her to ditch work early that day to come, but Y/N declined with a simple text of “i like my job tyvm.” So what did he do? Pick her up in his flashy sports car that day after work (two hours later than usual since she’d figured he’d do something ridiculous like this) and drove her there, where he didn’t bat an eyelash as she ordered double than what she normally would have (a silent fuck you from Y/N but it didn’t matter since she wasn’t actualy hurting his wallet). She’d been able to tide him off for a few days, as she escaped to her hometown for a weekend - but that did little to stop the mirage of texts he’d sent her, describing in great detail this cool hybrid bookstore-game cafe that he found and thinks she’d like. Instead of responding how she actually wanted, she’d just replied with a half-assed “ahh exciting- sounds cute!” (She mentally grants herself ten nice points for erasing her initially text, telling him to take his “fucking girlfriend”). This must have really struck a nerve with him when the following weekend, he’d dragged her out of bed on Sunday morning to take her to said bookstore-game cafe, even spoiling her by secretly buying a book she’d picked up but put back.

Y/N can’t tell if Atsumu is intentionally ignoring the hints she doesn’t want to see him or if he’s really just oblivious. She also can’t tell if the patter of her heart when he drags her out of bed despite her not wanting to see him is a good thing or not. It’s been weeks since she’d third-wheeled with Atsumu and Michimiya, surely Y/N should have been able to take a little bit of pride in the fact that he was literally chasing her down to spend time with her rather than Michimiya - but before she can even swallow that pill Atsumu shows up at her apartment with the trace of a bruise hiding just below his shirt collar. The small mark on his neck makes Y/N convince herself that this would be the time that she needs a full on Atsumu ban.

Said ban never actually happens, though.

Just as proof that this ban doesn’t happen, today Atsumu has decided that Y/N needs to come shopping with him. For the entire day. Cue the montage of Atsumu banging on Y/N’s door at nine in the morning, breakfast pastries and coffee in hand as Y/N answers in all her morning glory, sleep caked up in the outer corner of her eyes and pajamas haphazardly fixed. Words are exchanged as Atsumu pushes her towards the shower, promising to make up her bed and even take out the trash for her (a chore she put off last night because she’d seen too many people smoking by the dumpsters which scared her enough to make her drag up the two bags of back up the five flights of stairs). As Y/N settles at her desk to work on making herself “the hottest person at the market,” Atsumu settles on her bed, talking a mile a minute about all the things he wanted to get at the market and the possible places they could go for lunch in the area. All she can do is hum, wondering silently why he’d chosen to take the trip with her and not his girlfriend - but she wouldn’t complain.

The market was...fulfilling enough. Surprisingly, Y/N was walking towards the food trucks with more bags in her hands than Atsumu, who followed behind her with one print from a vendor that Y/N convinced him would actually look good in his home office. The pair decided that Y/N was better suited to look for a place where they could park themselves to eat, while Atsumu went off to get them lunch. Before Y/N could make a break for the tables though, Atsumu grabbed her face, thumb swiping at her cheek firmly - it took Y/N every ounce of restraint to not whimper at the unprompted affection.

“Wha-”

“Had some of that jam sample from earlier on your face, dummy.”

“Tsk… why didn’t you see it earlier.”

He just smiled softly, letting the warmth of his hand fall from her face before patting her back towards her initial direction. Frankly, she’d been thrown off her rhythm; they’d touched each other before for fucks sake. So why was this one moment of closeness enough to make her chest feel tight? As she weaved through the tables, she can’t help but hold her hand to where his was, almost as if to preserve the warmth that was now gone. She hummed gleefully as she found a table, making her way towards it and setting up camp. As she settles into her chair, fingers deftly texting to Atsumu where she’s stationed, she sees a shadow come across the table.

“Hey, are you gonna use all these chairs?” He’s cute, almost terribly cute - he’s got this pinkish-blonde hair going on top, an almost shy glint in his gray-ish colored eyes, and an almost self-assured smile pulling at his lips. He was also tall, much taller since Y/N was sitting, but she almost doesn’t mind considering the fact that she is most definitely gawking at him. She shakes her head momentarily, both as an answer to his question and a way to clear her head momentarily.

“Thanks! My friend over there is too precious to sit on the curb, apparently.” He smiles at her, eyes squinting and she’s momentarily breathless at just how cute he is when he smiles. His arms move to grab one of the chairs and that's when she decides to speak up, not wanting to quite end the conversation yet.

“Ahh no worries! I know all about having that too precious friend! I only need one other chair so you can take two of these.”

“Oh cool thanks… and hey this might be a little weird but - fuck are you from Miyagi? You look kinda like this one girl from high school but - “

“I am! I went to Aoba Johsai and -”

He clicks his tongue and seems to smile even brighter now. “That’s right - you’re Y/N right? I think you were a year younger than us right, but you always hung out with that one girl in my year who used to smoke behind the boy’s gym…” Y/N nods, a grimace on her face and the back of her neck feeling a little warm with embarrassment. How could she possibly explain that said girl was actually Y/N’s cousin and that she didn’t actually smoke, she’d just smell like it after working at their family restaurant. “Well I’m Makki, by the way. If you remember Matsukawa and Iwaizumi they're over there - they were at Seijoh too.” She nods, leaning slightly to see the two men behind him, both wearing smiles that were just a little too cheeky.

“Yeah yeah, I remember… you also had a particular whiny one with you too, right?” He laughs at that, responding that said whiny one was actually abroad. The two make a little conversation, her giving him some suggestions on places to visit since one of his trio is actually visiting for the weekend. Y/N thinks this is nice - feels like the main character in a movie with the amount of men that have approached her in the past couple weeks. Before she can get too cocky in her ability to pull though, Atsumu walks up to the table, hands full with a tray that seems to be piled with too many little plates.

“There y’are… couldn’t see you from across the way… everything okay?” Atsumu questions, standing to his full height as if sizing up Makki, who seems completely unphased by Atsumu.

“Yeah, was just asking your girlfriend if I could steal these two chairs away before I realized that we knew each other.” The strawberry blonde is definitely unphased by Atsumu, who’s shoulders visibly relax at Makki’s suggestion that the two friends were together. “Well it was nice seeing you, Y/N! Thanks again for the chairs, you all enjoy your meal.”

As Makki walks away, Atsumu settles into his own chair with a smug little smile playing at his lips. Y/N, on the other hand, is chewing at the inside of her cheek as food is placed in front of her. Her blond friend, the observant little shit, notices that she doesn’t immediately tuck into the lunch laid in front of her and nudges her foot with his, muttering a quick “what's wrong.”

“You were blessed with possibly the worst timing in the world, y’know that?”

“What d’ya mean?” He muses, taking in her huffily pulling the lid off her food and stuffing her face with the rice bowl in front of her.. She chews, combing the food on her plate with the plastic fork as a way to stop herself from unleashing all her frustrations.

“You always but in whenever I start getting hit on! Or you stop every chance I have at possibly getting to know someone; you come in here full force and its really not fair. I don’t do it to you, and it's just not fair.” Y/N hates that she probably sounds like a whining child, but she really can’t help it anymore. It’s really not fair that Atsumu flaunts his conquests on the cover of every magazine, but god forbid Y/N talk to a guy. “Its been a while since I’ve had sex, Atsumu, and it’s getting to a point where I’d jump just about anyone’s bones. I - I just think that as my best friend you should be providing me some support, not cockblocking me at every fucking opportunity you get.”

It takes every fiber in his body to not laugh at how ridiculous Y/N is being right now. He licks at his lip, catching whatever food crumbs he could before clearing his throat. “‘M sorry what? You actually wanna hook up with those guys? They seem like the type to just fuck ya n’ then not text you back.”

“And if that’s what I want then so what!? Did you miss the part where I said I’m desperate here?”

“Then..” He takes a swig at his water bottle in front of him, leaning back slightly in his seat and sliding his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. “If you need it that badly then you can just do it with me. You said anyone so I can -”

She laughs, one that sounds on the brink of delusion. “You’re fucking ridiculous. Yeah okay… Dunno if you remember but you’ve got a girlfriend, Miya.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Y/N. We’re… not that serious with each other and we’re also open. She knows that..'' He looks smug, and Y/N wants to smack the absolute life out of him. “And I’m being serious, darlin.. I’d rather get you off than see you get your hopes up over some random.”

Y/N squeezes the poor utensil in her hand, choosing to chomp down one of the buns on the table instead of reminding Atsumu that she wasn’t exactly his type. But she lets it go, just squinting at him and shaking her head, mumbling how ridiculous he is before swiping some of his veggies off his plate. How else is she supposed to react to her best friend blatantly telling her that he’d fuck her if she’d ask - she tries to ignore the way that their knees resting on each other under the table makes her heart soar. Before she can form a sentence, something to steer the direction away from her sex life (or lack thereof), Atsumu mumbles around a forkful of food that she’d better hurry since he wants to do another lap of the market before it closes.

---

Atsumu’s offer and that entire conversation is brought up again a few days later; the pair are in Y/N’s apartment this time. She’d asked him and his brother to come over to install some shelves for her, but apparently Osamu was busy. With the shelves installed, Y/N put on a movie to serve as Atsumu’s entertainment whilst she organized her trinkets. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, too concerned with trying to see if the shelves were actually level or not when she heard Atsumu laugh behind her, muting the T.V. with a quizzical brow raised.

“Huh? If you don’t like the movie then you can change it… ‘m not payin atten-”

“Oh yeah not paying attention right?” She gives him a hard look as if proving to him that she can’t honestly give him the plot of the movie. “So you’re telling me that its just a coincidence that this movie is about two friends who make a pact to fuck each other? That it's a coincidence that the literal name of the movie is ‘Friends with Benefits”

She rolls her eyes and turns to face him fully, seeing that he’s now sat up on her couch with his elbows resting on his knees. A beat passes before he puts his hands up, almost as if in surrender, before he pushes himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. She watches him as he pulls out a bottle of wine, nodding to the couch as if asking her to take a break. She relents, folding her legs under herself and pulling at a string on the worn sofa, thinking she’d probably try to replace this piece before she renewed her lease. He thrusts the glass to her, settling into the sofa but he makes no move to unmute the T.V., instead inciting some silent battle while they each sip from their respective glasses.

“Y’know you’ve been snappy lately… my offer from the other day still stands, hope y’know tha’.” She scoffs, choosing to take another swig at her wine, which does little to cool the warmth she feels in her throat. He’s not technically wrong - the conversation the other day had made a fog of tension hang over her, making a long lost desire for the blond resurface in her lower abdomen at full force. She’d spent way too much time the other night on Amazon, debating on whether it would be a good idea to get rechargeable batteries for her toy, spent too long watching his mouth move when he’d facetimed her the other night. It's not that Y/N hadn’t hooked up with anyone since knowing Atsumu, it's just that maybe she’d spent a little too much time enjoying how Atsumu met her emotional needs that she had neglected her physical needs.

“What offer?” She’ll be damned to let him in on the fact that she’d done nothing but think about his stupid offer. Refuses to let him know that she wants, no needs, to say yes. So she plays dumb, finger dancing along the lip of her cup, foot swinging anxiously against the floor.

He hums, reaching to put his glass on her beat up coffee table. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, placing his chin in his hand, giving Y/N his undivided attention. “‘Samu was talking about how his girlfriend has been on his ass lately about every little thing and so I asked him if they’re doin’ okay, y’know physically… didn’t answer me but I figured he’d solved it if he hasn’t mentioned it since. I heard someone say that if yer girl’s acting fussy then y’need to think about if you’ve been fuckin’ her right and well…” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, stopping the shiver that threatens to rack her body at the idea of Atsumu thinking she’s his girl. “I was bein’ serious the other day. I know ya were mad so it wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it seemed like the only good thing to say. Besides, ‘m not all that bad in bed, can ring up a few people if y’need a review.”

Y/N doesn’t respond with anything other than a forced huff of laughter, can't respond really. It feels too warm, she’s hoping that maybe this is some fever dream instead of reality. She just plays with her cup absentmindedly, not quite able to look the blond in the eyes despite the fact that his eyes are studying her face as if she holds all the answer to the questions the universe has. Him being bad in bed is the least of her worries, what if she’s bad? God she wants to say yes, maybe she’ll say yes - maybe it’d be good for her to finally get some di-

“Forget it, ‘m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to, sweetheart. I just -”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Oh now she speaks. He looks at her, a wild look fixed on his face, almost as if he doesn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “It's just..” She throws her head back, face covered momentarily by some plant leaves. God she didn’t want to actually voice her thoughts but now she has no choice.

“It’s just what? If yer worried about the fuckin part, I can just get you off other ways. Get paid to be good with my hands -”

“Just shut up for once please, you’re ruining it.” He makes a show of zipping his lips, smiling as Y/N squares herself to him, stretching her neck as if she’s preparing for a fight, rather than speaking a coherent sentence.. “It's just that I don’t… dont wanna force you into thinking you have to ‘cos I’m being bitchy to you.. Like it’s not your problem to fix y’know and I just. Besides, don't wanna be the only one enjoying it, want you to like it too and … for fucks sake this is ridiculous. I just dunno I-”

Atsumu’s hand reaches out towards her, fingers stroking her knee in a comforting manner but it’s all but comforting to Y/N, who’s entire leg feels on fire at this small moment of skinship. “Shh, shh, no baby yer not forcing me to do anything. Don’t think that way - I-I wanna do it! I wan’ya to be happy and if this makes you happy then… And i mean if y’need more of a reason then think of it as a way for me to say sorry for cockblockin’ ya all the time.”

Y/N doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t outright decline. She can’t think of anything other than how, if she nodded her head, he’d give her everything she’d been wanting. Atsumu and Y/N stare at each other, moments pass and she’s sure that he’s going to take her stillness and silence as a no - but he just moves to grab her wine glass, moving it from her grasp to the table, shifting closer to her in the process. She holds her breath and he brings one of his hands towards her face, palming the side of her jaw in his warm hand, thumb rubbing at the plush skin of her lips. “Can I kiss ya? Maybe tha’s all ya need is a good kiss, yeah?” She nods, his hand moving to pluck at her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Got really nice lips, don’t you? ‘S so soft and wet, catch myself wanting to touch ‘em allot’' She inhales softly as he leans in, his hand sliding to the side of her neck and he litters soft kisses against her jaw. She whines softly when his mouth nears hers. “Shh, gonna kiss you in a minit.”

All Y/N can do is breath, mouth parted slightly as Atsumu drags his mouth over her face. His hand is so warm and big on her skin; he’s so close in her face that all she can do is inhale and smell him, making her dizzy with building warmth in her belly. They catch each other’s gaze, neither daring to blink away, before he tilts his head, pressing his mouth against hers softly at first. He doesn’t move to kiss her, just holds his lips over hers for a moment, as if giving her time to back away if she wants to; but when she doesn’t, he hums and pulls her head towards his more, lips moving in tandem. His hand slides from her cheek, worming its way towards the nape of her neck as he pulls her to him - he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth with fervor. And she lets him, moving into his lap as she relishes in the feeling of his tongue lazily swirling with her own; the new found position allows him to drag his hand down her back soothingly, her own hands sliding around his neck and up into his hair.

She parts with a soft gasp, whether it be for air or out of surprise she can’t tell. He whines momentarily, before nosing his way down towards her neck, pressing butterfly-light kisses at the flesh. She’s wiggling in his arms, and he laughs, the air ticking the soft bend of her collarbone. “Fuck, you’ve been holdin out on me. Tha’ was good right? A good kiss for ya?” All Y/N can do is nod, sliding her hand towards his face in hopes of bringing his lips back to hers. She can feel the smirk on his mouth when she presses their mouths together again, and maybe after she’d bitch him out about it but right now all she wants is to be suffocated by him.

Moments pass, the air filled with soft pants in between kisses and thickening arousal. Atsumu cards his fingers in her hair gently, mouth still against hers, free hand sneaking around Y/N’s front. She whines softly, to which he shushes her softly. “Shh you’re okay… just wanna feel ya.” He soothes her over by indulging her in soft kisses against her lips, hand pushing up the front of her ratty t-shirt, snaking his hand past the waistband of her shorts into the confines of her (now too tight) underwear. Y/N shudders when he strokes lightly over her clit, before surpassing it completely and going to where a wet spot had been developing on the fabric. Plucking the damp cotton out of the way and letting the tips of two fingers rub over her weeping hole, “Oh.. this for me?”

A small noise crawls out of her throat, a mix between a moan, a whine, and surprise. “Don’t, ‘tsumu. It’s embarrassing..”

“Shh don’t be embarrassed. Just feels good to know I make ya feel good, baby.” Atsumu pulls his fingers from her, smiling when she whines at the loss of contact. But he’s able to soother her before she can get too fussy; one moment Y/N is on top of him, struggling to not rock against his thigh and relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her, the next Atsumu has her flipped over so her back, her body caged between the back of the sofa and his arms. A hand on either side of her head as he bends in, sweeps his tongue at a strip of salty skin just beneath her jaw. He hastily shoves up the shirt she’s wearing, revealing more of her and letting his hands graze over her breasts lightly at first before kneading them. She feels lightheaded while his mouth works on her throat, biting and sucking a bruise at the base of it that makes her gulp. Parting from the skin with a gentle kiss and a small, whispered comment of, “Taste so good, so soft and sweet. Been holding out on me, hmm?”

For the first time ever, Y/N has Atsumu in her arms and has no need to push him away - no, instead she’s holding onto him as if she’d die if he slipped away from her, her hands gripping his broad shoulders before sliding up into his hair as he makes his way down her body. He’s practically praising her - pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin as he moves downwards, fingers making quick work of tugging her bottoms off, helping her kick out of them quickly and clumsily. She knows that Atsumu is not a patient man, but this is a whole other level of impatience. He’s pushing her thighs open, cold fingers squeezing at the soft flesh of her thighs as he scoots down to be at eye-level with the barest part of her, making sure her calves are hooked over his shoulders. Y/N can’t remember a time when she’s ever been in a more vulnerable position, but instead of shying away like her instincts would have her, she finds herself moving to better accommodate the man between her legs. Her eyes catch his caramel colored ones and her breath catches in her throat; he’s staring at her, enamored by her.

“Such a pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he murmurs, lips forming a gentle kiss on her inner thigh but before she can retort he gives one long, gentle swipe of his tongue directly up the middle of her folds. She gasps, face turned away from him and thighs threatening to close, but he shifts his hand to stop her, holding her in place. “Aht… don’t get shy now, lemme get a taste.”

It’s too much when he dives back in, skilled mouth a vicious match for his insatiable need to please. As he strokes his soft, wet tongue deeper and deeper between her slippery folds that part around him willingly. Y/N’s sure she’s moments away from swearing her undying fealty to whatever higher being put this on her plate for today. Puckering his lips around her clit after stopping just before sucking on her until it was swollen and even greedier for his attention. Dipping his tongue inside of her hole, humming appreciatively against her and only feeding into the whimpering sounds filtering out of her mouth.

Embarrassingly, Y/N feels that she’s nearing her end - despite the shame of admitting that it's coming too fast, she feels the need to tell him anyway. “Hmph… g’na cum,” she chokes out, hoping that he heard her because all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. Every sense is suffocated by Atsumu’s presence, and she’s shameless as she lets every pant slip past her lips, feeding into Atsumu’s ego. “‘m so close, I need it. Need you to – to keep going please, ‘Tsumu”

And he does, gets her to the edge of her high before sliding his mouth away from her. The whine that falls past her lips is deafening, eyes opening and seeing that he’s just nuzzling her thigh, lips making light work at marking the soft flesh. “No, no you said… said you’d help.. Please I’m-” she’s hiccuping, tripping over her words numbly as she tries tugging his head back to where she’s most desperate for him.

He hums at her softly, almost patronizingly, as he places a kiss to the skin closest to his mouth. “Don’t cry pretty girl.. Won’t leave you hanging, ‘ts so warm down ‘ere… might have to stay forever, tha’ okay?” He is disgusting, filthy, so sinfully good. And true to his word, he goes back in without another word, only a small smile and his own hum that vibrates through her lower half. When he takes her clit back between his lips, it’s all she needs. Every tense muscle finally seizing to his maximum strain; it’s like she was a string that’d been stretched too far and finally frayed in the middle, snapping. She can hear her heartbeat thumping like a bass in her ears, can feel the way she’s twitching under Atsumu’s relentless movements, and it drowns out her own noises that she’s making.

Moments later, all that can be heard is her bated breathing, head completely empty and eyes heavy, flickering and fluttering with just how light she feels. Atsumu kisses his way back up to be face-to-face with her, making sure to peck gently at the marks he’d littered her skin with. His face is buried in the base of her throat, their arms tangled around each other lazily - Y/N feels too sleepy to protest the way that he’s pressing all his weight onto her; but isn’t too tired to realize that he’s hard when her hips wiggle to accommodate him between her legs, maybe has been the entire time, which confuses her slightly. Why would he be hard over her? She understands her total arousal over him since she bitched him into submission, but him? If anything, him being hard right now just proves, to Y/N at least, that maybe he would get it up with anything. But what if it is for you, her heart wonders briefly.

“‘Tsumu… are you-?”

“Shh, ‘ts alright. Let's get you to bed.” And he moves to slide off her, moving to guide the two of them to her bed, which was a feat on its own considering Y/N’s legs feel like jelly. All he can do is smile at her, taking in her relaxed face and mused hair. He settles her into bed, sliding up next to her and pulling her onto his chest, lips pressed into the crown of her head. Before Y/N can even think of a way to say thank you, she feels sleep taking over, choosing instead to just indulge (for once) in the pseudo-domestic situation she’s in tonight.

The following morning, Y/N almost doesn’t want to wake up, isn’t ready to come to terms with whatever happened yesterday. Long gone is the lusty drunkenness from last night, but Atsumu...Atsumu is still fully there, lips pursed and arms shoved under the pillow - Y/N holds back the urge to trace her fingers along the lines of his arm. She russells around, hoping that sleep takes over her again so she can justify waking up wrapped around Atsumu - her attempts are futile though when she feels a firm squeeze at her side, cold fingers making her jump slightly.

“Wha’s wrong?”

She mumbles a barely coherent “nothing,” to which Atsumu just hums, snaking his arm over Y/N’s middle and pulling her towards him, chest to chest with his breath fanning over her face. She swears she could die a happy person now. Wants to have every morning be like this, him in her too small bed, squishing themselves together for warmth, just the sheer proximity is enough, she muses to herself. Apparently, Y/N is thinking just a little too loud this morning for Atsumu’s liking because he sighs softly, asking if she’s sure nothing is wrong.

“Mm ‘m fine. Jus’ tryna get comfortable, go back to sleep.”

“Can’t now, all yer wiggling woke me up” And before she can even retort, he shifts slightly, practically forcing his groin on her thigh, to which she squeaks softly. “Jus go back to sleep… too early for breakfast.”

“Bu- Tsumu.. Lemme..” she starts, shyly. She did have this inherent need to pay him back for what happened, and she can only equate his favor with something equally as...pleasurable?...fulfilling? She can’t find the right word but the most equal compensation for sex has to be more sex, right? The sleep in her bones is fully gone now, her hands sliding down his sides slowly, tentatively. “Please...wanna jus’-”

“Don’t have to, can just go to the rest- sh-shit.” He starts, his own hand reaching to stop hers but his movements stutter when she palms at his crotch, giving his bulge a full on grope. She shushes him softly, lips moving to peck his jaw softly as she snakes her hands past the tight confines of his underwear; and though she can’t see much of what is going on she can feel how thick Atsumu is. His hands have shifted slightly, one arm resting behind her and the other cupping her face, their lips tangled in kisses that feel too sweet and far from platonic.

Moments pass, and it's apparent that Y/N is moving much too slowly for Atsumu, him bucking into her hand and his hips rolling in uncalculated and sloppy movements. He whines softly when she pulls her lips off his, both softly gasping for air, but she shushes him, using the most minimal amount of strength to push him onto his back and settles between his massive thighs. By this point, once fully exposed in front of her, he's so hard that the foreskin is already drawn away from the head, tip slick and wet with precum. She’s gentle, wanting to preserve the quietness that comes with waking up at eight in the morning, as she presses a few open mouth kisses at the patch of hair below his belly button.

And it’s all over from here. Y/N ducked herself down, licking from the dip of his balls to his drippy head in one broad swipe. Y/N shudders softly at the whimper she’s able to pull out of the man above her, thinking that it’s probably the best noise she’d ever elicited from a man. Atsumu runs his fingers through her hair as she slides his head into her mouth, fingers deftly scraping at her scalp as she begins sucking. She sucks him like she wants to – like this was the most perfect way to spend every morning, with her blonde, dumb, stupid best friend stuffing her mouth. Both are still hazy with sleep, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from pulling him in deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she begins bobbing her head and moving her hand in tandem to stroke at what can’t fit in her mouth.

His fingers start to tangle in her hair rather than comb through it, his moans filling the room, punctuated with little encouragements that she hums at around him, like, “Tha’s it, there’s my good girl,” and through shaky laughs, “M'gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” Eventually, Y/N knows that he must be near his peak, but she pauses, eyes locking with his caramel colored ones, as she pulls her mouth away to let his length just rest on her tongue.

“Fuck yer pretty… so good aren’t ya?” He whisper-groans at her, gripping her hair a little harder when she tilts her head to the side, allow him to shallowly fuck himself between her lips, his thumb tracing the bulge his dick made in her cheek. “Need'a pull off if y'don’t wanna taste, baby… gettin so- fuck- so close.” He gives her hair a slight tug, like he might actually pull her off himself, but she doesn’t allow him; she just shifts her mouth, making light work of wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking greedily with and humming in protest around him. And it’s that that sends him over, twitching in her mouth as he sputters off shaky profanities before she feels shot after shot of white ropes hitting her tongue. Y/N can’t help but stare at him above her, relishing in the fact that this morning she gets to see him shake and shudder because of her.

Y/N pops off him gently, drawing back and humming at the lingering salty taste he’s left on her tongue. She graces the skin of his heaving abdomen with soft, fluttering kisses as she tucks him back into his underwear, before she crawls up his body, legs swinging to straddle his narrow hips. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, neck red and he seems almost bashful underneath her (which makes Y/N’s heart swell with adoration at just how him he is). She wiggles softly, folding her hands on his chest and laying her chin on them, waiting for him to say something to her. She blows a laugh through her nose when he finally looks down at her, eyes glimmering and lips pulled in the shyest smile she thinks she’s ever seen on him.

“You… yer good. Too good… just wow.”

---

Suffice to say lots has happened in the week following the pair quite literally eating their hearts out.

Firstly, Atsumu spent nearly every evening at her apartment that week. He waited every single day outside of her office building - her coworkers have taken to telling her how lucky she is that she has a man waiting for her with this whipped look on her face, but she swears up and down (with warm cheeks) that it's not like that. They eat dinner, alternating between picking up something on the way or cooking together - and by cooking, just picture Atsumu cutting vegetables in uneven chunks while Y/N scolds him for not adding enough water to the rice cooker. Normally this could happen: it's not super rare that they visit each other during the week if it's convenient - what is definitely not in the norm is the fact that Atsumu has buried himself between Y/N’s thighs thrice this week. It starts when Y/N looks too stressed on Tuesday evening, that Atsumu pulls her legs over his lap in an attempt to “massage some of the stress away,” which only leads to him manhandling her onto her back, promising to give her something else to cry about besides work.

Secondly, Osamu thought it would be best to alert Y/N that Atsumu had a very awkward conversation with a woman during lunch on Thursday - it was secretly his way of asking her to ask Atsumu what happened because both Y/N and Osamu were terrible gossips who feed off each other. When Y/N asked though, all Atsumu said was that the whole conversation didn’t matter, that the woman (who Y/N learned was actually Michimiya) wanted more than Atsumu was able to give to her. That their lives weren’t in sync or whatever, that they’d eventually manage to be co-workers at best. To say that Y/N wasn’t elated at the news would be a bold-faced lie.

Y/N feels on cloud nine, feels like she doesn’t even need to have a conversation with Atsumu about what their situation is currently. She gets to reap all the benefits of a relationship now, she’s physically taken care of and emotionally spoiled. Only thing she’s actually missing is the title but what's in a word, right?Atsumu wasn’t a natural flirt, always hid compliments behind a harsh delivery - but lately he’s taken to drowning Y/N in compliments, even the corny ones. Y/N expected a post-nut “god yer pretty,” but what occasionally caught her off was when he would open the door for her (normal) and say that “a pretty gal like you should never hafta touch a handle” (not normal). Subconsciously, Y/N feels like he’s only trying to compliment his way into her pants, but she chooses to ignore the way he coos at “just how gorgeous her eyes are” when he makes eye contact with her during a midnight snack.

On the second Thursday following the start of the Y/N-Astumu situationship, Y/N has no choice really other than to ask Atsumu what’s going on with them. They’re at the grocery store by his place (he’d convinced her to take the following day off work and spend the night with him), everything is more than normal when the pair’s conversation gets interrupted by a literal model-esque person, touching Atsumu’s shoulder. Y/N tries to sneak her hand from his arm, but he grasps her hand before she can get too far, looking at the stranger with a less-than-friendly expression.

“Oh Miya! I’m a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo with me?” He indulges his fan, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, even as she steps out of the camera’s focus. The stranger parts with a grateful smile to both Atsumu and Y/N, which feels unnecessary, but Y/N returns anyway. The friends continue their shopping trip before making the trek to Atsumu’s apartment building. Y/N is quiet, in her head about the whole fan interaction that lasted a total of five minutes, but Atsumu says nothing - even stays quiet until the pair are up in his apartment.

“Everything okay? Not bored of me are ya?”

She smiles weakly at him, settling to rest against his kitchen counter. “It’s just… I- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, hand waving in front of her as if trying to shoo away the negative cloud above her head. But Atsumu quickly grabs her hand, pulling her into the space between his arms.

“It’s not stupid if ‘s how yer feeling.. What’s up?”

“Okay…” She starts, pushing away from his chest to give herself some literal and mental space. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back at the opposite counter to Y/N, who's mirroring his stance except her head is thrown back, eyes searching his ceiling for the right words to come next. “Are you always like… this… with the girls who give you head?” When she looks at him, his head is tilted to the left in confusion, making her huff anxiously. “Okaaay.. you’ve complimented me more in the past three weeks than any other person has in my entire life… is that normal for you to do with the girls hooking up with you or am I the exception? It’s not a big deal.. It’s just that you -”

“I compliment you because you deserve to be complimented, sweetheart… but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can stop.” He cuts in, before he uncrosses his arms, palms gripping at the counter behind him. “As for the whole hooking up part… is that what you want this to be? ‘Cos we can do that, up to you Y/N, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give -”

“But why? Until three weeks ago I was under the impression that I wasn’t your ‘type’ or whatever so why now are you suddenly on board with taking whatever I give you?”

He laughs, and Y/N wants to cry. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Y/N is good at feeling her feelings, but has a hard time clearly expressing those feelings into words.

“Don’t laugh a-”

“Who told you what my type was? If it was ‘Samu or Omi I swear I’ll -”

“You did. You said I wasn’t your type.” He balks, eyes wide and riddled with trying to think about when he said it. “It was forever ago, but you said it. You came back from Germany, I picked you up and ‘Samu had called while I went to the restroom and well.. I overheard you say-”

“Yer an idiot, made an assumption before ya knew the whole truth, baby. I was talking about this photographer that I was kinda seein’ at the time. M’brother asked why if she’d get mad that I chose to see you fresh off the plane instead of her, said it didn’t matter because she wasn’t my type.”

Y/N wishes that the floor of his ridiculously priced apartment would swallow her whole, or that if she pushed the right buttons on his fancy microwave she’d be able to rewind life to five minutes ago when she decided to start this conversation. Frankly, she feels silly and like she shouldn’t say anything else - she knows that her words conveyed a little bit of insecurity that she’s sure Atsumu doesn’t want to have to deal with.

A beat passes before both Y/N and Atsumu open their mouths, but he’s able to get out the words first. “You really thought that you weren’t my type?” Fuck his smug little desbelieving smile.

“Don’t gimme that look - you’re usually spotted around the globe with gorgeous people… ‘s it really wrong of me to assume that I wasn’t your type? Besides,” she starts, arms crossed around her middle while Atsumu takes a tentative step to close the gap between them. “It's not that it matters now since, y’know I know that it's not true.. Just hurt my feelings at the time and well…”

“You were supposed to be the smart one between us, got the college degree ‘n everythin.” He teases, arms reaching to rest on her waist. “For someone so smart you really missed all the signs huh? Why do you think I stepped in every time some guy tried to talk t’ya? Why d’ya think that I tried to take up all your weekend time, don’t get me wrong I love spendin’ time with ya but also didn’t wanna see you goin out with any guys you’d met when I wasn’t around.” By this point he’s got her chin in his hand, ducking his head slightly to make her look at him fully. “And why the hell would I eat you out at every possible opportunity once I’ve been given the okay? Just because I get thrown it all the time by others doesn’t mean that I eat out every -”

“Alright, alright. You can shut up now. I get it, I’m dumb. I just didn’t think -”

“Oh you got tha’ right - didn’t think at all did ya?” She groans, throwing her head back. She’ll never be able to get the image of his smug face out of her head, never going to be able to live down how for once in their years long friendship Atsumu was smarter than her. All he can do though is laugh, pulling her face back down to his and giving her forehead a soft kiss, making her stomach erupt with flutters.

“If you tell anyone about this conversation, I swear to god Miya I’ll-”

“Shh it’s always gotta be a threat with you huh? Why can’t you just admit that you were stupid for once?”

“Not happening.”

“Not even if it means you’re stupidly in like with me”

“No, because I’m not stupidly in like with you… I just adore your stupid self more than I’d ever admit in front of anyone else.”

He laughs, bumping his nose against her with a laugh before kissing her softly. Everything is great, life is great. Y/N loves Atsumu and Atsumu loves her, and she isn’t some sad, movie cliché any longer. She’s got this gorgeous guy who practically worships her, so freely giving himself to her. He pulls away from kissing her for a second, taking a moment to appreciate the way that her eyes are closed happily.

“Just so y’know… I adore you too.” Kiss. “But you are never allowed to call me stupid again… from now on I’m the smart one in this relationship.”

A/N pt2: and so that’s it hehe. thank you sm for reading I hope you enjoyed it. any little comments you have in the tags would be nice to read or yeah. this is my side blog so like hgjdgsh if I respond to you it’s gonna be from my main haha

#okay now I can type in the tags but basically I’m actually v proud of this not so little fic and so I just sjdjdjdj #if you’re reading the tags ily #tysm for reading my fic I appreciate u!! <3 #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x female reader #miya atsumu smut #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya smut

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