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sunnami · 5 months

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader

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ellavatorz · 1 year

Text

Kiss me Plenty || c.b. x reader

summary: you play the “I can’t stop kissing you,” prank on colby.

tags/cw: implied smut, kisses (lots of ‘em), tooth-rotting sweet fluff, established relationship, youtuber(s) relationship.

a/n: there isn’t much for me to say except that I have a very strong yearn for colby to be kissed 24/7. if that man isn’t being kissed at every second of the day like he deserves, then the world is a cruel joke of a place.

and a huge thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last work, you guys are so sweet T.T happy holidays!

- - -

You have the camera set up first thing in the morning. It’s hidden out of visible-sight and is focused on Colby’s usual spot; his desk, where he normally films intros to videos amongst other tasks in respect to his shared channel with Sam.

The plot of your video to be filmed today is explained to your audience. All while a grin is spread on your lips. “Today’s goal is to annoy the shit out of Colby by kissing the hell out of him. I don’t know how he’ll react considering he’s hyper-affectionate as it is… but its also normally something he does rather than me initiating it. So maybe he’ll suspect something right off the bat? Who knows!”

By the time Colby has migrated from your shared bed to his desk, you’re just outside the door, anxiously prepared for whatever may come of the situation. Without much of an extravagant entrance, you move toward where he is and stand behind him. His eyes are glued to the screen and you pretend to seem intrigued by whatever it is he’s looking at.

A yawn escapes his mouth as he reaches an arm behind himself, subconsciously searching for any part of you to grasp onto and reel in. “Good morning, baby.” He rasps, last night’s rest still grappling at his body.

“Morning,” you reply, allowing him to pull you closer. You take this as an advantage to wrap your arms around his shoulders from where you now stand beside him. “What are you working on today?”

Colby’s gaze is still caught on the screen when his own arm is snaked around your waist. His eyes flicker from one end to another, clearly focused on whatever he’s reading. “Just emails right now. I have a bit of review and editing tasks to get done on the apparel website too..”

“Ah, I see.” You sigh. Your eyes flash a mischievous glint toward the camera before you begin leaning into his space to plant a soft peck to his cheek. “Do you need anything? Water? Snacks?”

Still enraptured by work, he acknowledges your question half-heartedly. “No, love. Thank you though.”

You feign a frown at his response and begin swaying his chair left to right when the hold on your waist is replaced by the computer’s mouse. He scrolls through several pages, reading what he can manage to as you continue rocking his chair.

“What time do you think you’ll be done?” You question innocently, though you both are aware that his work is capable of enveloping the entirety of his day. He shrugs, too focused to respond. You take this as an opportunity to leave a kiss on the crown of his head, moving behind his chair to loosely circle your arms around his neck. “I think I’m gonna finish my Christmas shopping while you’re still here.”

He hums and it’s evident that he isn’t regarding your presence to the full extent that it’s normally at. You huff and lean over his shoulder to litter butterfly-light kisses along the side of his neck. He unconsciously cranes his neck, providing you with more access to the skin.

“Shouldn’t you come and eat breakfast first? You haven’t eaten anything.” You ponder aloud, and this time, he shakes his head.

“I’m fine, babe.“ he mutters, eyes squinting in the analysis of his emails. Your tongue comes out to swipe at your lips, wetting them before leaning further into his space and kissing him straight on the mouth. At this, he cocks his head to the side, granting you access for more.

You continue to press into him, feeling accomplished when you realize that now he’s fully focused on you. The kiss is languid and feels good enough to praise, but before you can fully enjoy it, Colby is pulling away with a pitiful smile. You don’t even have to question him because he’s apologizing in an instant.

“I’m sorry, petal. I really have to get these things done. I promise as soon as I get this out of the way, I’m all yours.” He says and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart. God, he really is the cutest. With the way his eyes glimmer at you, you’re confident with the idea that this man could un-alive your childhood pet and get away with it by just looking at you with those damned ocean eyes.

“Just a minute more?” shaking off the thought of ending the video early out of awe for your boyfriend, you continue your antics. You plead instead, batting your lashes tauntingly while returning to his side.

He blinks owlishly at you and ultimately accepts, pulling you into his lap by the hips and allowing you to straddle him comfortably. You grin, wasting no time and diving straight in for a passionate kiss. His hands snake around you to land on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze to which you groan into his lips for.

For a second, you’re convinced that this moment would last for an eternity with the pace that he’s taking. Theres not a doubt that he’d absolutely waste an entire day just to kiss you, and in this case you want this to be one of those days. His kiss is smooth, gentle, yet fierce and meaningful. Your hands move on their own accord; one pressing into the broad of his chest and the other entangling into his hair.

There’s a moan serenading your ears after a few rough tugs to the strands on his head. However, before you know it, he’s giving you one last playful tug to your lip and placing a good space between the two of you. While you’re grateful for this moment to breathe, you also fall clueless as to why the hell he stopped.. until, of course, you remember that you’re filming a video, and he’s working. Hello!

“Do you know how distracting you can be?” Colby chuckles, and you take a few seconds to take in his appearance; hair tussled, eyes dark and dilated, lips swollen with a few teeth indentations caused due to your own accord. You almost want to spend the rest of the video admiring your work, but conclude that the show must go on.

“What ever do you mean, coleslaw?” You quip, pushing against his hands from where they’ve been placed on your shoulders to distance you from him.

He immediately motions for you to get off of him, his hands already shoving at your chest. “Coleslaw? You’re done. Get off of me.”

You laugh and reluctantly remove yourself from his lap only to make an attempt at lifting him up with you. As if knowing exactly what you’re about to do, he drops his weight into his chair. You grunt, tugging on his arms with all your might. He doesn’t budge.

“Baby,” you whine, and add a childish stomp for emphasis. “Can’t you just take today off to spend time with me? Please?”

He falls limp at your words, tossing his head back against the chair’s headrest and huffs in thought. “We already hung out yesterday. The entire day! What do you want to do anyway?”

Pouting, you take advantage of his loose posture to throne his lap once more. Again, circling his neck with your arms and trying to pull him impossibly closer. Though, he does his best to keep a stoic expression and an emotional stiffness to prevent persuasion.

“I miss you,” the words seemingly fall on deaf ears as he remains unfazed, eyes wandering around the room; in other words, anywhere but you. “..just wanted to kiss you today.. but i guess you don’t want my kisses. guess I’ll just find someone else who does—“

His sigh mimics one of defeat. His hold on your tightens in protectiveness, as if afraid you may be taken from him. You begin to feel that bubble of mischief rising to your cheeks, tugging your lips into a smile. Yes! It’s working!

“One more kiss, and i seriously have to get back to work, okay?” He gambles, and suddenly your smile is fading into a frown. He directs his stare back to you, a small quirk at the corner of his mouth. “What, isn’t that what you want? Take it or leave it, baby.”

You bare your teeth in grimace, eyes twinkling with competitiveness before you dive in. Planting your lips on his, you nip and lap at the opening he gives you. Without much hesitance, he’s reciprocating in eagerness. Your tongues dance in the heat of the moment, teeth clashing with force. It’s clear how much you two want each other. And it’s even more evident just how far you’re willing to go for it.

“God, what’s gotten into you?” He manages to slur through the daze you’ve entrapped him in. The intimacy in the kiss exceeds even deeper when you apply pressure against his crotch, gaining a desperate reaction in return. He whimpers against your lips, bringing you impossibly closer to his form as he ruts against you.

“just.. really.. want.. you.” Your voice tapers off into a moan with each breath you take in between. And that’s when you realize. Oh shit. he’s hard.

A probing feeling at your clothed entrance is all it takes for you to pull back and freeze, hands instantly darting for the camera from where it was hidden just a few minutes ago. You focus the rest of the footage toward you, regarding your boyfriend’s lustful daze as a sign to come clean. Placing one hand on his cheek while the other holds the camera, you give a breathy and worried giggle.

“Are you—“ you start, motioning toward the evident tent in his sweats. His eyes waver from your face for a mere second to assess the situation before returning to you. “Colby?”

“Is this is a prank?” He mumbles, cocking his head toward the camera in your hand. You nod, curtaining your smile by placing a palm over your mouth. “Oh,”

“Colby, It’s a prank. I didn’t expect it to go this far!” You admit, and suddenly the giddiness you had been shielding from escaping you throughout the video is released. You laugh in embarrassment. “Oh my gosh. Guys, if you saw anything…. No you didn’t. Haha! But seriously, my poor baby suffered today so if you enjoyed the video, be sure to like and subscribe. Until next time, bye!”

The moment the video comes to an end, Colby is cursing you up and down for the scheme you had hidden from him. However, his scolding shortly concludes with a soft, and admittedly disappointing, “—had me all excited..”

“Oh my poor baby,” you coo, both of you now free from an audience’s presence via camera. Holding his face in your hands, you apply pressure to his cheeks, forcing his lips to pucker when you go in for a gentle kiss. “‘M sorry. The fans really wanted to see what you’d do.”

“Well now they know, so can we please not do that again. you’re very irresistible and convincing you know that?”

You press a gentle peck to his cheek and huff. “Yeah I’ve heard it a few times from my boyfriend.”

“Wow. I feel bad for your boyfriend.” Colby jokes playfully.

“Do you? Hm. Guess I should be a little nicer to him.”

“Maybe.” He pouts his lips toward you, proceeding to lift you from where the two of you sit on his office chair. Your legs wrap around his middle as he travels toward your shared bed. “I think your boyfriend deserves it.”

“I think so too,” you smile. Continuing from where you had left off, you both spend the rest of the morning doing exactly as you begged for; spending the day together. And making out, of course. And maybe a little more than that.

#colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x you #colby brock blurb #colby brock

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grapejuicestyless · 7 days

Text

Happier

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is not happy, despite the smile etched into her face, and nobody can see that, nobody but Harry, who can’t seem to express his concern in a gentle way.

“You look happier.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I don’t mean to be mean when nobody meant any harm, but it feels so casually cruel for someone to pick up on the way I’ve changed and mistake my spiraling for happiness.

I don’t know the true shape of my face. My cheeks were round most of my life, meant to be kneaded between the fingers of my working class grandmother while she baked in the kitchen, but more recently the skin has fallen from the bone and what was once rolled between wrinkled fingers is tighter to my face as it strangles me from the inside out.

I don’t recognize myself either. Maybe I never did, because even when I search for the girl I once was, I can never seem to find her. I remember running around as a child with my best friend, the grass stains on my jeans and the holes in my sweater from tug of war’s in his backyard. She was happy, even if she looked tired. She was the happiest I’d ever been, but she was so young. She hadn’t found herself yet and maybe that’s what made life so good, the ignorance of the real world and how it would shape her.

Maybe the real me is the person who reaches out to her friends when she misses them, or maybe its the girl who counted down the days to her seventeenth birthday so she could finally relate to the lyrics of Dancing Queen and mean it finally. But maybe it’s the girl who sits in bed staring at the ceiling wondering why she never made it where everyone else was going. Maybe it’s the girl who wished her mother cared just a little bit more to stop comparing her to her “smarter” friends when she was twelve.

So maybe I do look happy, maybe I am happy. Maybe I have never felt happy before and maybe that’s why I feel so conflicted about if I truly am or if I am just projecting it out to seem that way.

“Harry.”

I call into the darkness, wandering the house party in a sweaty costume sticky with splashes of beer on the fabric, only half of the costume I came with.

The hallway is long and winding, but it always feels that way when I’m not exactly sure if I’m going in the right direction.

“Harry?” I call out again, spotting the other half of my costume.

“Y/n.” He smiles with a sigh, like even though the smoke between his fingers is taking off the edge, I’ve just calmed the entire air surrounding him. For me, it’s the same feeling. When he’s near, everything seems to slow down for a moment. After about the thousandth comment on how much better I looked from some friends of friends, he disappeared, and maybe that’s why their integrating looks bother me so much, because theres no hand to hold onto to distract me from myself.

I slide against the wall to sit with him, my eyes finding purchase on the same cracks across the thin hallway as he did, and the warm blunt being lazily passed from his fingers to mine.

“I think you’re rubbing all your glitter onto my pants.” he breathes out casually into the comfortable silence. I feel the tension in my shoulders expand before fading.

“I think it’s in my eyes too.”

“Just when I thought they couldn’t shine any brighter.” Harry lifts his hand to hook his index finger around my chin, smiling like an idiot when he sees my lips curl comfortably around the joint.

“Well, maybe I feel better than usual. It’s finally reflecting back to you.”

I joke, feeling sick as I recall the conversation from before. I look happier, as if to suggest that before I was miserable, and even if they weren’t wrong about that, the fact that anyone could read that without a second glance scared me. How a stranger could read me before I could.

“Well, you look like shit if you do.”

“Ouch, that obvious?”

“If I counted each time you rolled your eyes when someone told you that whole speech about how good you look, I’d run out of fingers.”

Harry laughs as he takes back the weed to finish it off. I’ve already drank more than him, so the sway in my body becomes more noticeable as the burn sears down my throat.

“It’s just so…wrong. I mean, I guess I feel okay, but do I really look good enough for all this praise?” I ask quietly into the night, my knees pressing against my chest as I hug my calves tightly between my sweaty palms.

“I think you’re very pretty, Y/n. You are pretty. But your face is changing and no amount of glitter can cover that up.” He tells me honestly, rubbing out the dying end onto his knee and sighing at the burn.

“If you still believe that then I haven’t used enough glitter.” I try to joke, to brush away the rising bile in my throat and tension in the air.

“You can fool anyone else, but I know you. Even if you’re not who you once were, I still know you because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn’t. I’m a leech. I’ll fucking suck up all the joy from your life until you’re too exhausted to leave.” I smiled at the ground drunkenly, head hung low and my eyes heavy.

“But I do. You’re my best friend and it’s pathetic how you let yourself fall so low.” Harry flicks out the end of the blunt, watching the ashes fall the floor and stain the carpet lining the thin hallway.

“I came to you for comfort, you know. Not to get drilled in a bunny costume.” I roll my eyes, the haze clearing at his bitter remarks.

“Well tough luck, I guess. You look like shit for a girl who everyone here thinks is so happy.” Harry looks at me, his hand moving to wipe away the glitter by my eye.

“I need air.” I stand up, almost stumbling against the faint curling of the carpet at the edges. It’s new and that’s how you can tell, it hasn’t fully sunken into the floor, and it’s such a shame that it’s forever stuck with the glitter from my costume and the ashes of Harry’s joint.

“You need help.”

I stop, and there’s a beat that passes.

“You’re a real asshole when you’re high, you know. I have my own shit, I don’t need to be taking yours too.” I smile at him, but only because he was smiling at me.

“Maybe I am.�� He responds plainly, and when he looks the other way, I feel heavier than before, more picked apart than before, more vulnerable than before.

Theres a thousand eyes on my back just waiting for me to crack, like the chip in my tooth from how hard I’m smiling while talking to strangers about my hopeless life. And they all say I look happier.

“But y/n,” Harry calls out for me, and for a moment I believe he might apologize.

“You look happy.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x reader #harrystyles #harry styles

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wonysugar · 10 months

Note

Sana spotting reader in the crowd at the concert and keeps looking at her the whole show, then tells her manger to bring you backstage after the show and she ends up taking you back to her hotel room…smut of course. Thank you!

tags : belittling, humiliation, spanking (or just plain degradation if you’d like), sana has a strap, smut with plot!

content warning : smut! that’s..it lol

pairing : fan!femreader x sana minatozaki

word count : 2k

a/n : thank you so much for requesting, sana’s my bias so i had a super fun time writing this!!<3 also I’M SO SORRY FOR KEEPING YOU WAITING!! i hope the wait is worth it!

there you were, standing in line for the twice tour concert happening in your city, you would’ve came with a friend, but nobody in your circle really likes kpop the way you do.

plus, you didn’t want anyone you knew to see you fangirling over a girl group who doesn’t even know you exist which would get significantly worse when sana comes on stage.

you brought your twice lightstick and a silly little sign that reads “sana please kiss me i need you badly”, this was a one in a lifetime opportunity, you needed to confess your undying love to your soulmate if given the chance! listening to your own thoughts playback in your mind, you giggled at your delusions. god, you’re hilarious.

before you knew it, the line progressed and you were finally sat for the concert. fanchants ready to be yelled out, lightstick set up. oh you were so ready. plus, you got front seats too, so you were even more hyped.

then, they appeared. suddenly, everybody just lost their shit you included and started screaming for their bias. song after song, dancebreak after dancebreak, the crowd was going absolutely wild. while yes, you were enjoying the performance as a whole, but you just couldn’t stop staring at your favorite member. and surprisingly, she stared back most of the time! smiling at you and winking as she sang, just basically fueling all of your delusions. the rush of it all gave you the confidence you needed to do this.

you waited until she looked at you again and just held the sign up, you didn’t give a single fuck about the people behind you, they didn’t matter! you needed to make sana remember you by something, even if it was lowkey embarrassing!

she took a few moments to read it, squinting her eyes, then.. giggled??

oh she wants you badly!! is what you told yourself because you and facing reality are not a good match! she took the sign from your hands and showed it off to the other members, earning a bunch of laughs and giggles from them, followed by some talking.

oh nevermind, she’s most likely making fun of you.

embarrassed, you started looking around, pretending you didn’t know what was going on as if everyone didn’t just see that she grabbed the sign from you. but then, you spotted her writing something on it with a sharpie. intrigued, you watched her as she finished up writing. she jogged over to you and handed you back your sign as she winked at you. you smiled nervously and muttered a confused ‘thank you’ before your eyes darted at the writing.

your eyes widened, both in confusion and very pleasant surprise.

‘stay here after the concert, a manager will come get you ;)’

oh my god.

the final song finished and everybody cheered loudly for the last time. you had a great time, but you just couldn’t stop looking at your sign, reminiscing about what she was planning. was she trying to get you arrested? why would she wink though.. maybe she winked just so you would stay and THEN she’d get you arrested???

your mind ran wild as you quickly reached for the exit of the arena, trying not to get caught by whoever was out to get you, but before you could, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

fuck.

“excuse me, ms. minatozaki is requesting to see you, i believe.”

trying not to hide your defeat and fear of what could possibly happen, you nodded. “yup. lead the way!” you said, over enthusiastically. he motioned for you to follow him and he took you backstage, where, surprisingly, no other members were present. just her. you unintentionally gulp as the staff leaves you two alone.

god she’s literally staring you down. you would’ve been excited about being so close to her in person but the situation right now was kinda preventing that, you fidgeted with your hands. right as she was about to speak,

“are you gonna get me arrested? look, it was a silly little joke i had no intentions of making you uncomfortable and i’m honestly really sorry if i di-“

“relax, baby” she interrupted, “i found it endearing. i mean, it’s not like you’re a creepy old man, are you?” she slightly tilted her head as she asked the question.

you hesitantly shook your head. wait, did she just call you baby?? you felt that you could just die right then and there.

“so, why are you panicking? if i was trying to get you arrested, i wouldn’t be smiling and winking at you all show, would i now, cutie?”

your jaw slightly dropped at the amount of pet names that she just kept casually throwing around. does she not know what that can do to someone who’s like. infatuated with her??

“no, you wouldn’t, i don’t think.” you stuttered out. she giggled at you, eyeing you down, her gaze ending up on every single part of your body.

“are you free tonight?” she asked you, an innocent smile plastered on her face.

quite frankly, you were originally planning to go home right after concert, lay on your bed and watch tiktoks for like 5 hours straight but… let’s just say making out with the sana minatozaki on her hotel room’s bed was significantly better than that.

she unfortunately pulled away from you and looked into your eyes as she slightly panted, “what are you into, baby?” she asked you.

not knowing what to respond, you looked around nervously, still not over the fact that you’re about to fuck an idol?? your favorite one, at that. was this even allowed???

“uhm.” you finally responded, “i don’t know.. girls?” you awkwardly chuckled.

fuck, maybe being funny wasn’t the best approach, she looked like she was genuinely asking. you could tell from the drop of her expression that she was getting impatient, she subtly sighed, almost pulling away from you.

which…. you always found it kind of sexy when she got frustrated at her other members, or something of the sorts.

biting back a shy smile, you kept staring at her. then, as if something in her mind clicked, something in her eyes sparkled and she smirked.

“oh… i see where this is going.” she playfully smirked, getting closer to you again as if she could feel your face growing hotter by the second. “you’re into people treating you like garbage, aren’t you?”

you hesitated, but you ended up silently nodding. was she psychic??

“oh how cute. so if i were to fuck you roughly as i called you names, you’d like that, hm?”

you froze, then turned your head to look at anything that wasn’t her face. god that sounded so hot.

“answer, you bitch.” she grabbed you by the jaw and made you look at her, her eyes piercing through you. you swore that you could’ve came right then and there, but you obviously had and wanted to keep this going.

“y-yes sana, i’d like that. alot.” you squirmed under her, her eyes still not leaving yours. she scoffed.

“i knew you were a complete slut as soon as i saw you.” she kissed your neck, earning a relieved sigh from you as she unbuttons your shirt. “also,” she added,

“it’s ms. sana, got it?”

next thing you knew, she was violently dicking you down from behind with her strap. wait, why did she even bring it along with her on tour? whatever, that didn’t even matter right now, what mattered was that your twice bias was literally inside you and that you felt like you could squirt just from that. an exaggeration, but she was just that good at fucking you.

“fuckfuckfuck sana right there..” you moaned out, throwing your head down on the pillow before you stammered nervously, “i-i mean, ms. sana!”

in response, “aren’t you a cute thing. this is the fourth time you’ve made that mistake. does it feel that good?” you heard her giggle. okay, she didn’t sound mad, but you still needed to be careful next ti-

before you could even finish that thought, though, you felt her hand smack one of your cheeks with full force, making you flinch and unintentionally whimper at the impact. fuck, that hurt.

“apologize.” she coldly ordered you, her pace getting faster by the second, causing you to lose your breath. recollecting your thoughts, you let out a nervous “i’m s-sorry ms. sana fuck i’m sorry..”

“god.. look at you. ass up for a girl you barely even fucking know.” she hummed, clearly amused by all of this, amused by how easily you gave in. she gently scratched and pet your head as she would a dog, still roughly pounding you from the back. “are you stupid or just a horny bitch?” she mockingly giggles.

“that’s just what you are, isn’t it? a little bitch in heat. hm?”

if her purpose was to fill you with shame, then it was very much working. you felt humiliated. when you really thought about it like that, you are literally letting a stranger fuck you. not only that, but you went to her hotel room. maybe she was right, maybe you are just a whore.

“come on baby, say it. admit how much of a slut you are.” she pulled on your hair, forcing you to hold yourself up. you whimpered and moaned loudly at the sensations, trying your hardest to form a correct sentence, “yes ms. sana i’m a s-slut! fuckfuck i’m a slut for you p-pleaseee fuck me harder..”

your dignity and self-respect now long gone, your only priority was cumming. she probably caught onto that quickly, though, since she immediately started changing her pace, going at a much slower speed, much to your despair. you whined. “such a good bitch for mommy. are you getting close?” she asked.

mommy?? oh this woman wanted you dead. her words and the noises coming out of her contributing in making it harder for you to keep your composure. god you were a mess, being undone like this, being used like this, being at someone’s mercy, sana’s mercy. it turned you on so much.

moaning out consecutive mhms in response to sana’s question, she hummed, grabbing your waist. then, unexpectedly, she rams into you, her strap fucking in and out of you, covered in your slick. “then we’ll cum together, okay?” she orders, panting. you eagerly nod, head pressed into the pillow.

you feel your orgasm building up, your noises getting higher and louder. she quickly started shamelessly moaning louder too, good girls and just like thats escaping her mouth.

it didn’t take long before her breathing stopped for a moment, pulling on your hair with such a force. she moaned out your name, and that’s when your own mind blanked. that feeling in your lower stomach was now replaced with complete euphoria, and it was amplified by the fact that you knew it was caused by sana. you didn’t care about how loud you were being, you didn’t care about the people next door, you wanted them to know who was making you feel this good.

as you both came down from your high, you felt her pull out. it took you some time to actually sit up, but your legs weren’t exactly in the best state right now.

“do you do this to every fan you meet?” you ask her, laying down on your side, sounding kinda muffled due to your head still being in the pillow.

“hm, no. i’ve never done this before. i guess it was something about you.” she said, smiling as she was tying her hair and then eventually taking the strap off of her, setting it down on the nightstand.

then, you remembered your so called delusions. maybe they weren’t entirely delusions after all!

you took your bag, all dressed up and ready to leave the hotel room, she on the other hand, stayed naked, because that’s apparently how she sleeps. you say your goodbyes very obviously eyeing her bare body and head to leave, but she stops you.

“here’s my number, i’ll text you and eventually let you know when we come back here.” she winks at you, then sends you on your way.

well! getting dicked down by sana minatozaki wasn’t exactly on your bucket list this year, but it was certainly very welcomed, considering you went back home giggling to yourself and did your own thing when you arrived home, still thinking about all of it..

from now on, you could never allow yourself to miss the upcoming tours.

#sana minatozaki #twice smut #kpop smut #kpop gg #female reader #smut #sana x reader #sana x female reader #sana minatozaki x female reader #twice sana #twice

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

Text

┌─ “ ! „ ADORE L'AMOUR

tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise wordcount. 5.5k

a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu

miya atsumu x fem!reader

“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.

“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.

Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.

“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.

“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.

“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.

But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.

You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.

“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”

“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”

“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.

“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”

Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”

“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”

“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.

Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.

Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.

“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.

Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”

“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”

You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”

“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”

You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”

“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.

“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”

“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”

You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.

More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.

But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.

“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.

You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”

“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”

“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.

“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”

The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.

‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’

You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”

“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”

“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.

But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.

“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”

“Of course you’re not.”

He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”

Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”

“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.

And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”

The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.

“Tsumu, cut it out!”

“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.

“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”

His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”

His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”

“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”

“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.

“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”

The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”

“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.

“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.

“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.

“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”

“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.

“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”

“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.

“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”

“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”

“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.

“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”

“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”

“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.virginity #tw.noncon #tw.degradation #tw.dubcon #tw.size kink #tw.dark content #tw.creampie #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.atsumu

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patrophthia · 2 years

Text

love is sour grapes | theo. nott

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), unrequited love but not really, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, not beta read.

word count: 5.9K

originally posted on ao3 on: 06/28/2022

"Uhm— would you like to—"

He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.

"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"

One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.

Or Theodore is a quiet piece of shit and that leads to miscommunication and complicated feelings

Theodore Nott. The one constant thought that has been running through my head way too often for my liking. He was handsome, quiet, smart, lanky in all the right ways and never seemed to be engaged in a conversation —or at least one where he was talking instead of just listening and listening and listening.

Talking to him had always been one of my goals, it shouldn't have, really, it shouldn't. But somehow I had found myself more than just infatuated with him.

Theodore was an observant person, if he noticed me studying him, he never confronted me about it.

But, as my friend says it, Theodore Nott is sour grapes. Or, in better words, love is sour grapes. If this even was love that is.

"I think you should just talk to him," Hermione says kindly. "I still don't think that he would be good for you but if you fancy him that much then go ahead."

"If you want a death wish that is," Ron snickered. "Honestly, can't you have picked a better guy to fancy? I mean— Nott? Of all people."

"Do you want me to fancy Malfoy instead? Would that make you happy," I quipped, hearing Hermione hide a laugh between closed lips. "Or god forbid, you."

Ron face contorted to one of offense. "I'm notthatbad."

"Yeah sure," I murmured, with no malice. And turned to Harry who had been quiet about the situation ever since he found out. "What do you think?"

Harry shrugged, looking startled. "I don't know," He said first, and then. "I think you need someone better than Nott. You're friendly and thoughtful—" he paused hesitantly. "—and you're quite awfully pretty."

"Thank you, Harry." My eyes fell downwards with no real intention. I was none of those things. "But I don't think he'd agree."

"What does it matter if he agrees," Hermione said loudly. "Harry's right. You're all of those things. It's his loss if he doesn't go out with you. You're fit, incredibly so. I would be happy if someone like you were to ever fancy me."

If Ron had a reaction to those words, neither Hermione nor Harry noticed.

"Well," I said as a group of Slytherin walked into the Potions classroom. Potions would be starting any minute now, and I needed to head into class before Snape does. "I'll keep that in mind. If all fails, I'll just have to marry you, Mione."

With a final smile, I bid them a quick goodbye and made my way into class. The three of them heading to which ever direction they needed to be.

The class quickly starts, and Snape wasted no time in assigning me a potion to make. Invigoration Draught. The potion that energizes the drinker. How fun.

The ingredients were mostly easy to obtain. Peppermint, Honeywater, Stewed Mandrake then there's Dried billywig sting: my biggest nightmare.

I was only so tall and the shelves where the ingredients were stored stood so so high. I would've used a stool had it been free to use, but a Slytherin had already been occupying it and it would be rude if I were to take it away from them.

There was a cough behind my back, and then, a hand reached; over me and towards the exact thing I needed. Dried billywig sting: my new biggest enemy.

The person pulled back —jar filled with billywig in hand, and stood still as I turned to them. The jar had a decent amount of billywig in it, if they needed it I could still manage to ask for just enough for my potion. That is if they were kind enough to let me have some.

"Could I—" I paused mid-turn. There stood Theodore Nott in all his glory. Dark eyes, dark hair and facial features that looked like every part of him was chosen by Aphrodite herself, watching me with a raised eyebrow. "—uhm, could I have a few of those? I needed it for my potion but I couldn't reach it."

Theodore blinked once, looking unfazed and handed the jar over.

I blinked twice the time he did, opening up the jar; intending on taking out a few and handing it back over when he stopped me.

"I don't need it."

His voice.

"You don't?" I find myself asking, trying not to breathe too loud or to forget how to even breathe in the first place.

Theodore shook his head once. And reached up for something else. Had he seen me struggle and had gotten it just for me?

"Thank you," I tell him. Theodore nodded once, accepting it as it is. I think you should just talk to him. Goddamn it, Granger. "Uhm— would you like to—"

He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.

"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"

One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.

Whether he was scrutinizing me or not, I didn't know. What I do know is that I was wrong and stupid. And my friends were wrong too.

He needed more than me. I might be friendly and kind and maybe quite awfully pretty. But Theodore needed more than me.

"You know what." I cleared my throat, smiling. "Forget I said anything. Have a good day, Nott."

•••

I had been down lately. My friends noticed that. Even Harry and Ron noticed it and they were as daft as they come. Whenever they asked me what was wrong I find myself telling them that I was just stressed over my O.W.Ls.

Which I was. But it was mostly a lie to cover up something I was more upset about. I had idiotically asked Theodore out and now I have to face the consequences of being rejected.

I think —in some ways— him having not even say 'no' or have given a clearer answer was more upsetting then if he had just said no out loud.

It was stupid of me to get my hopes up and think that anything else would've happened. It was stupid for me to even think I was in his league.

It was also late. I hated walking back to the common rooms in these hours but it was my fault for procrastinating my essay until the night before it was due so I had to rush the entire thing in an hour in the library. I had only hoped that Umbridge wouldn't punish me for being out pass curfew.

I had one more hall left to turn before I reached the Hufflepuff's barrels when someone shouted out my surname, halting me in my place.

Fast pace footsteps approached and then, donning from head to toe in pink was Umbridge. Fuck.

"What do you think you're doing out of your dorm at this time?" She asked quickly, her toad like face twitching with irritation.

"I was in the library and lost track off time," I quickly confessed. "I'm so sorry. My dorm's close by and I—"

"It was my fault professor." His voice. "I’d asked for her help and lost track of time. She was trying to head back before curfew but it seems like her efforts were to no avail. I can only hope you would excuse her and blame me for my faults."

Umbridge looked baffled. He talked? Theodore talked? She made that annoying noise that she can't seemed to get rid off. "Well." her voice laced with false kindness.

"I see no point in deducting any points." She then turned to me. "But I will be expecting to see you tomorrow for separating yourself from help at a time as late as this. Merlin knows, it's dangerous for a girl to wander alone at this time."

"Just me?" I asked, slightly confused.

Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "Do you expect Mister Nott here to be punished for wanting to make sure you got back to your dorm safe?"

That wasn’t what he— okay. Fine. Whatever.

"Now, go off," she said with a wave of her hand. "And Theodore, would you be so kind as to walk her back? I don't want to know the troubles she might cause when I let her out my sight."

Theodore nodded, doing as he was told and took a step forward. He looked behind his shoulders, his eyes meeting mine and tilted his head slightly: signaling that we should leave now before it gets worse.

I avoided Umbridge's eyes and stepped forward, trailing after Theodore. Detention. All because I was too lazy to finish my essay any other time I had.

I think I feel my eyes water. I think it feels harder to breathe. I don't know for sure how I feel exactly despite dejected and disappointed with myself.

If I had just made one different choice, I wouldn't have to have detention with the one professor known to physically harm the students. And to top it off, being walked back to my common room by the boy who recently rejected me whilst bottling up my feelings about everything I did wrong.

"You don't have to actually walk me back." I paid no heed to the crack of my voice. Theodore does though. "It's late." I pointed out the obvious. "You should go."

Theodore glanced at me quickly. His look was so quick that I suspected he had planned to only spare me a second of his time. But something about me, something about how vulnerable I must've looked, had him pausing.

"I shouldn't." He said slowly, his tone so attentively that it made me think that he had saw something in me that I never did. "I can't leave you."

"You can." I don't think I can handle being near him any longer, not when he was studying me so cautiously. "It's only a few steps away, I can assure you I'll be fine."

Theodore eyes flickered down the corridor quickly, finally tearing themselves away from me and looked forward, continuing towards the direction of my common room.

When we finally reached where we needed to be. Theodore stood back watching as I tapped the barrels carefully.

I looked over my shoulder once the path opens up. Smiling slightly when I found his eyes on me. "Thank you for taking the blame, Theo. You didn't have to and you did and spared me way too many house points. I really appreciate it."

He made a noise of acknowledgment, taking my word as it is. And then, as he was about to step away. "Goodnight."

•••

I think I hate life. I might be wrong but life sucks. Especially when you have to repeatedly write the same sentence over and over again with a magic quill that tears through your skin.

That can't have been a legal source of punishment but Umbridge made the rules so it was no use fighting her about it.

My hand hurts. Holy fuck, does it hurt. I don't even have to glance down at it for me to see my skin burning red, bleeding slightly. Curved out in the sentence. I will not be out pass curfew.

"You alright there?" Came a voice.

I looked up quick and abruptly, sure that I'll get whiplash from my actions; to find George Weasley watching me with interest. I smiled, subconsciously hiding away my hand. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" He followed up. "You don't look too good."

I nodded, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "I'm fine, just got a paper cut is all."

He fixes me a look of disbelief but let it slides. "You should go," he said with a small smile. "I think Ron's looking for you? Something about slimey snakes and what not."

"Oh." The sound slipped out. "Thank you, I'll go find him."

It was weird to see George without Fred but I decided that I didn't want to know why. They were probably setting up a prank and I had walked right through it.

Bidding George a goodbye. I continued down the corridor, turned the corridor and found the trio standing by with Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott by their sides. This can't be good.

Is this what George referred to when he said Ron was looking me about some slimey snakes?

"There she is," Malfoy said with mild annoyance. "We've been looking for you."

"You have?" My eyes drifted to Hermione but she only shrugged, looking as clueless as I was. "Why?"

Malfoy took a steps towards me. "You've been with Professor Umbridge?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Why?"

"Did she give you the quill?"

What was he playing at? Why was he interrogating me? "Yes." I repeated. "Why?"

Zabini rolled his eyes and step up, seemingly having enough of Malfoy's dramatics. "Here." He handed out a bottle. "It's Murtlap essence. Suppose to help you with the cuts. Nott made it for you."

"He did?" I asked, taking the bottle of Murtlap essence from Zabini's hand. I turned to look at Theodore, finding his eyes glued to my bleeding hand that was grasping the bottle. Jerking my hand back, I smiled, thanking him. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate and for uhm— thanks again for covering for me last night."

Everyone —all but Theodore and I— brows raised upwards, surprised. So they didn't know about what had happened last night.

Theodore showed no outwards reaction, having just watch me with a straight face and patient eyes. Then he turned to Zabini and tilted his head slightly. Zabini seemingly understood, slapped a hand over Malfoy's shoulder and with a goodbye, steered the blond boy away.

"Bloody hell," Ron said exasperatedly. "Did that really happen?"

"Nott made you Murtlap essence?" Hermione asked more to herself than anyone else. "How did he even know you needed it?"

"I—" I stopped, glancing at my hand. "—I was out pass curfew and Umbridge caught me. Nott took the blame for it. I think Umbridge was too surprised with hearing him talk to properly acknowledge that he too was out of the dorms pass curfew. She said she won't take away any house points but gave me detention as a punishment."

"That's all?" Hermione said. "Why would Nott take the fall for it and then proceed to make Murtlap essence for you if there wasn't anything in it for him?"

"I don't know," I told her, shrugging. "He also walked me back to my common room and wouldn't leave me when I insisted otherwise."

"Do you think." Ron started. "Maybe that Nott fancies you?"

"No." I was quick to shake my head in disagreement. "He's doesn't. He's made that clear already."

"He has?" Harry asked loudly, brows knitted together.

"Yeah," I murmured. "That day I talked to the three of you. I asked him during class if maybe we could go out on a date sometimes and he didn't say anything. Not a yes. Not a no. Nothing."

"That's terrible," said Hermione sympathetically. "Honestly, what kind of person rejects someone then proceed to do things as if they cared for them."

"Hermione," said Harry cautiously, eyes shifting between me and her. "I don't think that does anything to soothe her nerves."

"Sorry." Hermione blinked in realization. "It's just— you deserve better. I don't understand a thing Nott's doing and I don't want you to get hurt in the process."

"He could be figuring out his feelings," Ron suggested making Hermione shoot a sharp glare his direction. Ron tsked. "I'm just pointing it out."

"Well it's not helping." Hermione said in an obvious tone. Her eyes drifted down to my hand, scanning the words then looked back up. "I think you should head back and take care of your hand. You don't want it to scar now, do you?"

I nodded, waving. "I'll see you at dinner?"

Hermione let out an agreeing hum and went on her way, Ron pestering her from behind. Harry hadn't moved though, looking at me with furrowed brows. "Could I maybe have some of your Murtlap essence?"

"Yeah." I handed it over. "I didn't know you had to endure Umbridge as well."

"Didn't think it was important to mention." He pulled out an empty ink pot from his bag and twisted it open, pouring just enough essence to not overflow it. Harry put the cap back on and handed it back over. "Don't tell Hermione or Ron, will you? I don't want to be a bother."

" 'course." I smiled. "I won't tell anyone."

•••

What are the chances that I get caught being out pass curfew twice in the same week. Pretty fucking high because I was once again being called out late at night.

Two sets of foot steps stops before me and it took me roughly five seconds to realize just how grave the situation was. Draco Malfoy stood tall and smug with Hannah Abott by his side looking tired —if a little irritated by Malfoy's presence.

"What are you doing out, badger?" Malfoy asked.

"I was heading back from the kitchens." Malfoy made a face and glanced down at my outfit that looked way too overdressed to be heading down to the kitchens.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." It was clear that I was caught in a lie. Goddamn you, Radiohead concert. "I must've lost track of time."

Hannah looked like she wanted to say something but bit her tongue. Not wanting any of her words to be counted as it being biased just because I was her dorm mate.

And then, as I waited to hear Malfoy state just how many points he wanted to take away from my house. He said with annoyance, "you can go." Unfazed to the look of surprise that showed up on both mine and Hannah's faces. "Tell Nott he owes me one."

•••

I don't think my head could —or will ever fully comprehend "tell Nott he owes me one." I don't know why exactly but that sentence feels way more ominous than it ought to be.

ott does not owe him anything for letting me go.

And I don't think I owe Nott anything for helping me be let go? maybe I could've phrased that better. What I meant to say is that: I owe Nott nothing for his friend's behavior towards me. At least I don't think I do.

But things works in mysterious way. Like how —despite how ironic I find it— Nott always find out a way to help me out during potions. Especially when it came to the ingredients.

Though that was the least of my concerns right now. My concern, for now, is revolved between the three books in my hand that I can't decide —for the life of me— which one to buy.

On other occasions I would buy all three and went about my day but I had only brought enough money for one book and food for the rest of the day at Hogsmeade, and my friend didn't seem like they'd be heading back to Hogwarts for extra cash any time soon.

I looked over my options once more, trying to figure out which one would be the bang of my buck.

Option one: All Or Nothing, a novel about a girl trying to navigate relationships with the people she surrounded herself with and see whether they would react differently when she gave them her all, and then; how they would react when she gave them nothing. 863 pages.

Option two: Glimpse Of Us, a novel about a boy who always —and I mean always, sees his ex in the girls he dates after her. 295 pages.

Option three: Listen boy, a cheesy novel about a girl who had little to no interest when it comes to going on dates with guys but when her roommate compliments her on the socks she wore, she finds herself wanting to do nothing but go on dates with them. 530 pages.

Both Glimpse Of Us and All Or Nothing seems like sad book. Maybe it's time for me to find some joy in my life —which seems to seize to exist after whatever happened between me Nott happened. As I turned, intending to put those two books back in their respective places. I was more than surprise to find Nott looking at me with a slight fascinated tilt to his head.

“Which is it?”

"Hmm?" I find myself humming. Should I pick All Or Nothing instead? Wouldn't that make me seem more intelligent than a book about a girl being in love with her roommate.

"Which one have you chose?" He clarified, and I might've imagined it —no I definitely did because, Theodore Nott's lips did not just curve up at all.

"This one." I lifted up whatever was in my right hand which just happens to be Listen boy. And there goes sounding more intelligent in front of Theodore. "It seems cute."

"Is that all?" He followed up and it's then that I realize he was wearing a forest green that had no reasons to make him look as good as it did. Green really was his colour. "Nothing more?"

"No." I shook my head. "Ideally I would like two get these two as well," I told him truthfully. "But I only brought enough for one —technically two, if I stretched it out but that would mean no snacks for the rest of the day so it's a no."

"I'll get it for you then," he says casually. Like it's something you say to someone you recently rejected. Like he was walking around, waiting for someone to tell him that they haven't brought enough cash for the other books they wanted. "Would you like anything else? I am more than willing to indulge you."

"No, I don't." I stop myself. Yes, I mean. Because I really did want other books, especially if someone else was paying for it but I know that my poor heart cannot handle it.

It is already breaking apart at how handsome he looked with his forest green jumper and black ironed pants. His hair, a usual dark brown, just the slightest tinge brighter under the sunlight (which is both a sight for sore eye and a rare view since I only ever see him in the dungeons, hunched over a bubbling pot and disgusting lightings) which flatters him in all the best way possible.

And no, my heart is not picking up a million paces over I am more than willing to indulge you in that very tone of voice, in that very set of clothes, in very set of lighting, by that very Slytherin that I could not seem to get over.

"You don't have to," I insisted, trying to not shiver under his gaze. He narrows his eyes and it says way more than words could ever say. He knows he doesn't, he wants to. Oh lord save me. "Maybe this one? It's cheaper."

"That was not my question," he said curtly. "I asked you if you'd like anything else, not which option was cheaper."

What are we even talking about now? Was he planning on buying me the three books in my hands and more or was he planning on letting me pay for my choice then pay for the others I couldn't afford.

Is my face that much of an open book? Because, without even having to say it. Theodore had already answered my questions for me. "I'll buy you the three in your hands and anymore you'd like. I'd buy you the whole store if you wanted me to."

I think I'm having a heart attack. Or dreaming. Or both. I can't tell. Maybe I'm dreaming while having a heart attack? Who knows. All I know is that Theodore Nott did not just say that. Did he?

"No." I shake my head quickly, maybe even too quickly. "No, I— these three are more than enough. I promise to pay you back when we get back to school."

Theodore fixes me a look. One ridiculing me to the point that I wished —more than anything— that I was a bludger being hit so hard I pass through the most oblivious of oblivions. I'm so sure that that would be less stressful.

"I mean it!" I press all three books to my side. "I promise, and I always keep my promise. I won't take advantage of your money, I will get it and find you as soon as I—"

I didn't see the point in finishing my words because he was smiling. And laughing. I think. It's a mixture of those two and it's so heavenly that I believe in everything ethereal alike.

Theodore noticed my silence, the side of his lips curved the slightest bit (so so small and tiny that you couldn't even spot it), looking at me with clearly amused eyes. And then, "did you not hear me?"

"What?" The words slipped out easily.

"I told you I'd buy you the whole store if you'd like and you think I'd want my money back?" He said slowly. "I couldn't care less about the money. I just wanted to make you happy. Salazar knows, I've made you upset more often than I could count between my fingers."

Now what the fuck was he on about. He has never made me upset —save for rejecting me that one time, but I understood it, he didn't like me, that's that. I have gotten over. I think. But I'm more than sure that I could count that one event between his ten fingers.

Unless Theodore only had one finger? Does he? I cast a glance down to his hands and there are those ten fingers. Ten exactly. Not one short or one more. Ten and a couple of silver bands that made me want to do nothing but sit and stare at his long, pale, slim fingers. And how they would feel around my— nope, nope. Absolute not.

"Merlin, we leave Nott alone and he goes around trying to find his girlfriend." Girlfriend?

When the owner of the voice, Zabini, finally arrives before me and Theodore, I was no where near surprised to see the other Slytherins in their group by his side.

Parkinson. Malfoy. And finally, Greengrass —whom I was actually friends with.

"Well?" Zabini muttered, eyes shifting between me and Theodore, and then landing on him solely. "Are the pair of you planning on standing here the whole day?"

"No," I said with narrowed eyes. "I don't know what he's doing here, I'm just trying to buy a book."

Zabini raised a brow. "Is that all, princess?"

"Pretty much." This feels like a trap. Is this a trap? "Are you planning on going somewhere with Theo?"

"Theo," Zabini tsked with a smirk. "I've never once called him that and I've known him for about five year now. How cute is that."

Yep. This is definitely a trap. I think I'm going to die now.

Theodore, with a roll of his eyes, made his way to my side and pried at the books pressed to my waist. Confused, and a little daze at the warmth of his fingers grazing my hip, I let go of the three books and watched him with wide eyes.

He seemed (and looked) unaffected by how everyone eyes were now on him. Walking around and picking another set of the exact books I'd picked out. Theodore paid for them without a word, asking for separate bags and handed a set over to me.

And then, quietly he says. "Zabini's an idiot." He smiled a winsome one and I am so sure I'm dying and this —whatever this was— is just a figment of my imagination that my brain curated during my dying breath. "I like it. Don't ever stop calling me Theo."

•••

Blaise Zabini is trying to be matchmaker. I'm sure of it. Or else he wouldn't be bothering me as much as he did now. I can't seem to peacefully spend time in the library without being interrupted by him.

"Hello," he greeted, smiling as he sat opposing me. I raised an eyebrow and he was able to read me quick enough, telling me the reason he was here. "Just wanted to let you know that Nott finished those three novels he bought and he's looking for someone to talk it over with a cup of tea —or coffee, whichever one you prefer."

Is he implying what I think he's implying? "Why is that any of my concerns."

"I thought you might be interested." He shrugged. "Since you know, you fancy Nott and all."

"I don't fancy Nott." I told him. An obvious lie, and Zabini knew that too. "And he doesn't fancy me so it's just a waste of time."

"Nott doesn't fancy you?" He's laughing. He's actually laughing. What was so funny about the truth? "What makes you think that?"

"He literally turns me down I when I asked him out," I said blankly. "It's pretty clear, isn't it?"

"And what exactly did he say?" Zabini asked playfully, as if he was humoring me.

"Nothing," I answered. "He just looked at me and said nothing, I don't think I need anything else to tell me that it's an obvious no."

"Nothing?" Zabini repeated with a grin. "Have you heard of being speechless? Or better yet, you know Nott doesn't really speak right?"

"That doesn't excuse him saying nothing when I asked him to go on a date," I countered.

"It doesn't," Zabini concurred. "But Nott's an idiot." Funny, Theodore said the exact same thing about Blaise. "Did you know Nott did Malfoy's work for a week without complain just because he let you go that one time you snuck out?"

No. I don't say. Malfoy did say Nott owe him one but I hadn't thought it important. "What does that have anything to do with what you were talking about?"

"Because," he says exaggeratedly. "Nott fancies you back. I suspected that he liked you since third year though he won't admit it. He won't even admit that he fancies you now but he's incredibly easy to read."

I shut my book and looked at him. Really looked at him. Trying to gauge whether he was messing with me or telling the truth. "What am I supposed to do with this information?"

"Ask him out again," he suggested lightly. "Give him another chance for being the biggest twat there is."

"And have him reject me again?"

"He won't," Zabini says calmly. "He'd burn the entire school down before even thinking of rejecting you."

I hesitate. "I don't want to embarrass myself again."

"You won't," he says with a roll his eyes. "Look I know being rejected is hard, I think I get it. I've never been rejected before. But I also know that the both of you like each other just as much and it's getting tiring seeing you beat around the bush."

"Nott won't make the first move. He thinks you hate him now for not answering when you ask so you'd have to ask again —if you still want to be with him that is. Do you? Or else I've been doing all this for nothing."

Yes. I think. I'm pretty sure that I want to be with him. "Do you know where he is?"

"Oh," Zabini said delightedly. "He's actually coming here right now. I told him I was coming to find you but never gave him a reason why. He'd be here any —speaking of the devil. Hello, Theo."

Theodore doesn't bother to return his greeting. Eyes heavily set on Zabini in a glare that had me shivering just from the side lines. Then his eyes turn to me and his glare on hardens.

"Hi, Theo." I don't think I've ever since Theodore like this before. "What are you doing here?"

"What did he do?" He asked instead.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "He did nothing. We just talked."

"About?"

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yes. Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Oh you know," I huffed. "The weather. Coffee. You."

"Me?"

"Yes." My lips fold itself into a thin line. "Actually Theo. Could I ask you something?"

His gaze softens when he nods.I am more than willing to indulge you.I am so sure now, more than ever, that love really is sour grapes.

"Uhm— would you like to—"

His eyes widened, large as saucers as he processed in my words.

"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"

One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing. And I am briefly reminded of everything that happened.

And then, "yes," he says. "Yes, I would."

•••

Theodore really did read those books he bought me. This I knew now as I sat under the sun on one of Hogsmeade many benches with Theo to my left.

This part of Hogsmeade was quiet, it wasn't too far from the shops but far enough for no one to frequent by. A few people passed by trying to move from destination to destination but none noticed the bench wedge into the middle of the place where two fifth years were sat, talking about everything and anything under the moon and stars.

"So you liked it? You liked 'Listen, boy'?"

"I did." He was smiling and I wished more than anything that I'd had a camera to capture every smile he had given me during the pass hours. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," I laugh and his smile widens. "It just doesn't seem like you. It's a cheesy and corny book and you're always so dark and broody about everything."

"I'm not dark and broody about everything," he denied.

"You are!" I countered. "You were even dark and broody when I'd first asked you out."

"That's 'cause I didn't know what to say," he says truthfully. "You could've said yes, that would've made it easy for the both of us," I told him. "I really couldn't. You don't deserve just a yes. You deserved everything, not something so simple."

"But that yes would've made my week, Theo."

Theo looked like he was about to say something before he changed his mind. "I'm sorry I didn't say yes when you'd first asked me. Could you ever forgive me?"

I want to kiss him until his lips, his skin, his hands, his scent, every tiny bit of him is imprinted in my mind. "Yes." I say. "Yes, I think I could."

Theodore chuckled, his nose crinkling at the motion and something between that laugh and smile of his causes me to lose it.

My hand reached forward first, palm pressing against his cheek, pulling him closer to me and pressed my lips onto his. I kissed him once then as I reached to pull away; I find that both of his hands had found their way to my cheeks, holding me still as he kissed me back.

Theodore pulled back, the tiniest of smile on his lips that had the smallest smudge of my lipstick attached to it. And he tells me, as if he had been thinking of this for days, years, lifetimes. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

And when I smiled, Theo leans back in. Peppering quick kisses on my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, anywhere I would let him kiss me; he will cherish it.

Once Theo finally pulls back —and this was for real this time, no more quick kisses. He looks at me and I know deep down that he will be the death of me when he says. "You are going to be the death of me."

— from bee: the thing about theo is that we know nothing about him so you can’t say that this is ooc :>

#theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Spotify #🧳: my writing

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Note

I looove all the works you've been giving us, sincelery thank you for keeping us fed. So I had this idea lingering in my mind and basically : it's ghost with a reader that's only nice to him. Like they're not the most cheerful person but they're always giving him little snacks or giving him compliments and all that. So ghost think they're kind and like that all the time with everyone, but after one (or many) convos with 141 he realizes that no, they aren't very nice with people and it's just him.......... Anyway I hope this isn't too much, I wish you a good day/night!!!

epiphany

love this, thank you!!! Ghost needs a cute lil significant other that only likes him. Hope this little one-shot fits what you were thinking of.

warnings: mentions of violence, fluff, gn pronouns, reader has codename 'phantom', insinuation of smut?

"LT, please control them," Soap says pointing toward you, you raise your hands in defence

"I didn't do anything"

"You're joking, you almost shot my head off"

"You were in the way"

"Oh really" Soap crosses towards you and Ghost steps between, arm extended in front of you keeping you from clawing at Soap, giving him a glare. Soap huffs a breath and walks away shaking his head, Ghost turns to you, head tilted in question and you smile back at him.

"How was your day?" You ask

"Did you try to kill him"

"If I was trying to he'd be dead"

He quirks his head, "That's true"

"Oh here," You say reaching into your pocket, pulling out a small pack of biscuits. "Found these earlier, remembered you loved them so"

He grabs the package from your hands eyeing them over before the two of you walk off.

A few hours later Ghost hears yelling from the mess, poking his head around the door to see you almost face to face with Soap, finger pointed at his chest, your focus shifting when you see him, anger suddenly dissipating.

"What the fuck's going on"

"Your little pet is saying the mission failure is my fault"

"Yeah, and it fucking is Johnny, you're in charge of demolitions, who else do I blame when the door doesn't blow open"

"Alright both of you stop," Ghost says, "Johnny go cool off"

"Me? They're the one that's always walking around with a sour face"

You huff at him.

"Johnny, go"

You smirk as he walks away, face dropping as Ghost grabs your arm dragging you into the hallway.

"Why is he so mad at you?"

"I don't know, Scottish temper" You smirk

He stares at you trying to read your face, he'd never seen this side of you, truth be told he kinda loved it, but usually you were skipping around your shared flat, dancing to music or nuzzling into him as you cuddled. You were always so kind and soft towards him, making sure he ate when he was home, gently cleaning his cuts, dropping him off books you thought he'd like.

The two of you go your own way after your outburst and Ghost decided to investigate. Knocking on Price's door,

"Oi Captain"

"Whaddu need son"

"Just a question, Phantom, are they ever, I dunno, mean to you?"

"Are you joking, why do you think that's their codename, they scare the shit out of everyone"

"You're joking"

"I wish, I steer clear of them when I can, almost got my head chewed off when I took them off a mission"

"Huh, thanks sir," Simon says as he leaves the room, rubbing the back of his neck before his eyes land on Gaz,

"Hey mate"

"Lieutenant"

"Phantom, thoughts?"

Gaz looks around the halls like you'd be waiting around the corner to strangle him, "Great fighter"

"I mean their personality"

Gaz is hesitant, scared you'd somehow hear him talking about you, "Saw them almost break a rookie's shoulder for talking back, never bugged them after that"

"So you're scared of them too"

Gaz simply nods.

Ghost continues asking people around the base about you, most of them simply tried to stay out of your way others had horror stories and the rest just believed that you hated them. When he left base to go home he was utterly confused, your opposing actions a mystery to him, his confusion increasing when he walked in and saw you moving around the flat half-naked, hips swaying to some old song.

A large smile plastered on your face when you saw him, practically leaping into his arms to welcome him home, planting soft kisses over his face once he removed his mask.

"Did you want a tea?"

He shakes his head and you move from him, continuing whatever task you were up to, he scans the flat, brightly coloured decor on the shelves, blankets all over the place, you had made it so cozy.

"People on base are terrified of you"

His statement makes you stop in your tracks, "What are you talking about"

"Well apparently you've threatened quite a few people"

"Huh" You simply shrug your shoulders and Ghost smiles

"Why are you so nice to me and so mean to them"

"I'm mean?"

"They certainly think so"

You move towards him wrapping your arms around his neck, standing on your toes to kiss him, "Maybe I only like you"

"Mm I like the sound of that," He says kissing you back, "But you can't yell at rookies, that's my job"

"Fine, you can be the scary one"

"Very generous of you"

"I can be generous"

"How generous" His eyebrow quirks as he lifts your legs to wrap around him,

"Very"

He carries you, leading you to the bedroom and shutting the door with his leg as a fit of giggles overtake you.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost fluff #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x gn reader #simon riley x gn reader #cod x gn!reader #reqs💌

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ramblers-lets-get-ramblin · 3 months

Text

Right On Cue- Frankie Morales x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Pairing: Bartender!frankie Morales x Waitress!f!reader

Summary: The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP

Author's Notes: shoutout to my love @pedgito for beta reading for me!

“Hey! Sweetheart! Can we get another round?”

You roll your eyes at the pet name. As much as you hate it, the dickheads who use them usually tip the best. Unfortunately, they’re also the most likely to try to cop a feel. Luckily, there’s no tolerance for that here. The bartender, Frankie, never hesitates to kick out an asshole who puts his hands where they don’t belong. Honestly, it’s kind of surprising how sharp an eye he has for it. It’s like he has eyes in the back of his head. He always makes sure there’s a gratuity added to their tab before he kicks their asses to the curb.

You don’t know much about him. He’s worked here longer than anyone but he doesn’t socialize much. He’s probably the only bartender you ever met that didn’t drink. He’s all broad shoulders and brooding. A man of few words but never an unkind one. All the girls have a crush on him, you’re no exception. As far as you know, he’s never taken any of them up on their offers. The skin around his eyes crinkles when he smiles. On the rare occasion that you can get a laugh out of him, the deep boom goes straight to your bones.

“Hey Frankie. Need another round for the assholes at table three.”

He turns to face you and nods his head in their direction. “They giving you any trouble?”

“No. Not like that. Just drunk and annoying.” you assure him.

He pops the top off the beers and places them on your tray. “You’ll let me know if they start bothering you?”

“I promise.”

You put a little extra swish into your hips as you walk away. Just in case he’s looking.

Two hours, two spilled drinks and about ten thousand steps later, you finally hear the words you look forward to every night. “Last call!” Frankie shouts from behind the bar. All of your tables attempt to get your attention, desperate for their last drink of the night. You make it a point to hit the table with the assholes last, slamming their beers on the table harder than you normally would. By this point you are fed up with their shit. Drunk ass dude bros are not your favorite people in the world, and this is your sixth day straight of work.

“Thanks doll.” one drawls while slipping a bill into the waistband of your shorts. You swat his hand away, but your snarky reply gets caught in your throat as you hear a voice from directly behind you.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Frankie says, reaching past your shoulder and grabbing the man by his collar. He drags him up from the stool and the man has a hard time finding his footing.

“I was just thanking her for a job well done.” he smirks, not even realizing how badly he’s fucked up. Frankie smiles and you see a darkness flash through his eyes. Maybe he enjoys this part of the job a little too much , you think.

Later, once the doors have been locked for the evening, you rush to the break room, desperate to kick off the high heels that are required as part of your uniform. You pull your sandals out of your backpack and sit on the bench.you kick the heels off and bring one foot up onto the opposite knee. Just as you dig your thumb into the arch of your foot, Frankie comes in. Your eyes connect with his just as you groan “Oh, fuck.” He raises his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth turns up slightly.

“That good, huh?” he asks.

“Oh shut up! You try wearing those things for ten hours.” you tell him. You slide your feet into your sandals and make your way back out to the floor. This place isn’t gonna clean itself. It’s your turn to mop the floors so you have to wait for everyone else to finish before you can leave. Luisa comes by to say goodnight on her way out. She looks over to where Frankie stands behind the bar, drying glasses. She bumps your shoulder with hers.

“Hope you and your boyfriend have a good night!” she sings with a wink. Being married, Luisa is probably the only woman in the building not interested in Frankie. She’s convinced herself, and tried to convince you, that he’s secretly in love with you. She loves teasing you about it, because she knows that you’ll never make a move on your own.

“Shut up!” you hiss at her through clenched teeth. You look over your shoulder, checking that he didn’t hear. His back is to you and he seems busy with his own work. His body language gives no indication that he has overhead. “Will you get out of here?” you say, swatting her behind with your bar towel. She laughs all the way out the door and you roll your eyes.

Frankie stocks the bar while you mop, singing along to the country music pouring out of the bar speakers. Once you’ve finished, you begin to roll the mop bucket back towards the back. A wheel snags on the corner of the pool table leg, tipping the bucket and sending disgusting mop water everywhere.

“Fuck!” you shout as the brown water splashes over your sandals. Just as tears begin to form in your eyes, Frankie comes running from behind the bar with a bag of bar towels in his hand.

“Here.” he shoves a couple of towels into your hands and drops to his knees. You join him on the floor and begin mopping up the water with the towels. You sniffle, trying to hold your tears back. “Hey, it's okay.” He assures you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You want to lean into his touch but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You and Frankie work together to get all the water cleaned up. One towel after another, until almost the whole bag is gone. You deposit the soaking towels into the now empty mop bucket. “Thanks for helping.” you tell Frankie. He offers you enough of a smile that you can see the hint of a dimple in his cheek.

“Anytime. Now let’s get outta here.” he rolls the mop to the back room and you head to the break room. You wash your hands and use a wet paper towel to scrub the gunk that was on the floor from your knees. You grab your backpack and take a last look in the mirror before heading out. You straighten your clothes and head back out to the floor. You set your stuff down on the pool table and wait for Frankie to emerge.

“Let me just grab my stuff,” he says. He’s removed his flannel overshirt and is using it to dry his hands. His gray t-shirt is stretched taut across his chest and biceps. You can’t help but be drawn to the way his muscles move as he dries his hands. He tosses the shirt over his shoulder and reaches below the bar for his wallet and keys. He turns the music off and does one last check to make sure everything is shut down for the night. “Ready?” he asks.

You nod and reach out your hand. You grab his bicep softly and when his eyes lock on yours, you feel something shift between you. “Thanks again for helping me out. Sorry you had to stay even later.” He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stroking it gently.

“Like I said,” he begins, moving his face even closer to yours. So close, in fact, you can feel his breath on your skin when he continues, “anytime.”

“I appreciate that.” you reply, almost in a whisper. You close the distance between your faces even more. Just as you open your mouth to say something else, Frankie’s bottom lip brushes your top one. You suck in a breath and he uses the opportunity to catch your bottom lip in between his own. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You moan when he slides his tongue along yours and he swallows it up, drinking it down.

You savor the smell of him, sweat and the fresh scent of his soap or deodorant. His other hand comes to rest at the small of your back and he uses it to bring you closer still. His chest presses up against yours, your hands circle his neck. You can feel the stiffness in his jeans against your thigh.

You knock his hat to the ground and change the angle of your head, allowing him to kiss you even deeper. He runs his hands down the length of your torso, squeezing on the way down, like he wants to feel every inch of you. You’ll be damned if you don’t want the same. He grips the meat of your ass with his large hands and now it's his turn to moan. He picks you up and sets you on the edge of the pool table. His lips never leave yours. You’re surprised to find that he’s just as ravenous for you as you have been for him. Maybe Luisa was right.

You slip your hands under his shirt and feel the warm skin of his firm chest. You lightly scrape your nails down his chest and caress the soft swell of his stomach. You run your finger over the trail of hair that leads down and disappears below the top of his jeans.

“ Fuck, baby.” he whimpers against your lips. You grab the hem of his shirt and begin tugging it upwards. Once the shirt has been dropped to the still drying floor a fire lights in his eyes. “Is this okay?” he asks, grabbing the bottom of your shirt.

“Yes, please. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

He rips your shirt off you and unhooks your bra with nimble fingers. He drops them both onto the pool table and steps back a little. His eyes rake over your exposed breasts and his tongue runs across his lips, wetting them. You shiver under his gaze and he steps closer, pressing himself right back up against you. He rests his hands below your breasts and thumbs your nipples.

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you like this, baby.” he tells you before devouring your mouth with his own once more. You palm his hardening length through his jeans and feel it twitch under your touch. “ Fuck.” he groans.

You unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans and shove your hand down his boxer briefs. Past the coarse hair, you take his cock into your hand and his hips buck against you.

“Please, Frankie.” you moan. The feel of his thick cock has you growing wetter by the second.

“Please what, baby?”

“I need more.” you say, desperate to feel him on you, in you.

“Stand up.”

You follow his directions and when you rise he places his hands on your shoulders and spins you around. He grabs both wrists and places your hands on the soft green felt of the pool table, far out in front of you. “Keep them there.” he orders. You wouldn’t dare move them. His fingers curl around the elastic of your biker shorts and underwear and he pulls them down your legs. He lifts your feet one at a time, sliding them out of your clothes before placing them back in your sandals. He deposits them on the table with the rest of your clothes.

You stand there, knees slightly bent, ass out on display, and wait for what's next. You hear some shuffling and the clinking of Frankie’s belt as he sheds the remainder of his own clothes. He comes up behind you and you can feel his hard cock pressed up against your ass. His hand snakes around to your front and he runs his fingers through your folds.

“Is this all for me?” he asks when he finds you already soaked for him.

“Yes, Frankie. It’s all for you.”

He taps the outside of your thigh with two fingers. “Lift this for me.”

You lift your leg and he places your knee on the edge of the pool table. He drops to his knees below you and takes in the sight of you. “Fucking perfect.” he almost whipsers. You aren’t sure whether he’s talking to you or himself but it doesn’t matter because he licks a broad stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit. Your knees almost buckle under the sensation but he’s there to keep you steady.

“It’s a little early for your knees to be giving out already.” he teases.

“Do you ever shut up?” you ask breathlessly.

He responds with another long, slow lick. And then another. He doesn’t stop until he’s brought you to orgasm with nothing but his mouth and fingers. When he rises from his knees he directs you to keep your knee on the table. He slides his latex covered cock over your pussy before lining himself up.

“You ready for me?” he asks and you can hear the fucking smirk on his face.

“I’m ready. Please. Fuck me.”

He growls in response and breaches your entrance. The stretch of him feels divine. His cock parts your walls, making a home for itself inside of you. He goes slowly. He knows he’s a lot to take. He kisses your shoulder and your neck, whispering praise in your ear until he’s nestled firmly inside you.

He places one hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. He pulls out of you slowly, until just the tip of him remains. He starts with long, slow strokes. The drag of his cock along your walls has you dripping all over him. You can feel the hair at his base is soaked when it brushes against your ass. He picks up his pace, hitting something inside of you that makes your legs shake. With every thrust, he’s pulling you down onto his cock with the hand on your shoulder.

“Oh fuck, Frankie! Right there, baby!” Your cries echo off the walls of the empty bar and Frankie lets out a growl from deep in his chest.

“You keep screaming my name like that and I won’t last much longer.”

He brings his hand to your pussy and feels where he is splitting you open. He drags his fingers up to your clit and circles it. The dual stimulation sends you hurtling towards the edge of your next orgasm. Your cunt begins to flutter around Frankie’s cock and he increases the speed of his fingers.

“Oh, God! Oh fuck! I’m fucking coming!” you shout and are overcome with the intensity of your orgasm. Frankie’s breath comes hard and fast out of his nose but his thrusts don’t falter and his fingers don’t stop.

“Come on, baby, I want one more. Just gimme one more." His words are strained and said through gritted teeth. You are straddling the line between pleasure and overstimulation when another orgasm slams right into the tail end of the first one. Your legs finally give out and Frankie holds you up, still pounding into you.

Your shouts fill the room and Frankie’s thrusts begin to slow in speed, but they somehow reach even deeper than before. One, two, three sharp snaps of his hips and he spills himself inside the condom. You both collapse, spent, onto the surface of the pool table and attempt to catch your breath. After a few moments, Frankie’s weight on your back is pressing the edge of the table into your abdomen.

“Frankie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I can’t fucking breathe.”

“Oh shit! Sorry!” he lifts his weight off of you and grips the base of his softening cock, holding tightly to the condom and pulls out of you with a hiss. He scoops his clothes from the floor with one hand and nods towards the bathroom. “I'm gonna go clean up. Wait for me?”

You nod and gather your own clothes from the pool table.you toss your bra into your backpack and pull the rest of your clothes on. Frankie exits the bathroom and grabs his hat from the floor. He puts it on and gives you a quick kiss. He pats his pockets for his belongings then slides an arm around your shoulders.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Do you wanna go get some breakfast with me? I’m starving and I could go for some pancakes right now.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your temple. “How ‘bout I make you some pancakes?”

“Really?”

“They’re kind of my specialty. My kids love them.”

You raise an eyebrow. He’s never talked about his personal life before. “You have kids?

“Yup. Two of ‘em. Come on. I’ll tell you all about them while I cook.”

“I’d love that.”

small note: my taglists have been fucky lately so please be sure to follow @ramble-on-fics and turn on post notifications for all updates!

#francisco morales #frankiemorales #frankie #frankie friday #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Fooled round & fell in love (part two)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: slight smut 18+MINORS DNI, cussing, smoking, fuck boy eddie, buckle up for this one

A/N: I am SHOCKED and so GRATEFUL at the amount of love part one got, I can’t even begin to thank everyone who’s read it and left sweet comments, I really didn’t think this would get more than a few likes so this has really given me the motivation to keep going.

Thank you again to my love @myobmaya for reading and giving me the best live commentary 💗💗💗

───⋆☆─────────────

After Eddie leaves, you and Randy head out to the party. You notice his body language is kind of off and he’s a little too quiet but you chalk it up to pre party jitters which you happen to be experiencing

Once you pull up to the unfamiliar driveway Randy gets out and walks around to your side, opening your door

“Oh, such a gentleman” you say with a smirk

“Only for you, angel” he retorts back with a sly grin

He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you inside, once you make it through the door you hear shot in the dark by Ozzy booming through the speakers, this was definitely not like the typical high school jock parties you were use to

Randy makes his rounds greeting his friends and doing his best to introduce you over the loud music, once he’s done you both head to the kitchen for some drinks his hand never leaving your waist

You walk up to the table filled with drinks and snacks reaching for a red solo cup and filling it to the brim with the red concoction sitting in the punch bowl, it was so sweet you couldn’t even taste the alcohol

While randy heads towards the fridge to grab a beer, you turn around to scan the party with your cup half way to your lips, your eyes lock with the brown doe eyed metal head you know so well, you send him a small smile and turn around almost immediately, feeling Randy’s presence behind you

He grabs your waist, pushing your body close to his while smashing his lips to yours, you both make out pretty hot and heavy for a couple minutes, when you turn around searching for Eddie, he’s gone

Randy leans down and whispers in your ear, asking you if you wanna go find somewhere in the living room to sit, you nod and take his hand as he leads the way, when you both look around you notice one spot on the couch that’s not currently being occupied. Randy heads over and sits down pulling you to sit on his lap, you squirm for a few seconds trying to get comfortable but he grabs your waist trying to halt your movement

Randy pulls out a joint from behind his ear

“Do you wanna smoke, babe?” He asks with an unsure look

“Yeah, light it up!” You respond back trying to sound as enthused as possible

He hands you the joint letting you take the first hit, as you blow the smoke out you notice Eddie with his arm around some blonde girl, she’s laughing at some stupid shit he said, you eye them as they walk out the front door together, Eddie takes one last glance back at you before he disappears out the door with his flavor of the night

Your stomach does that little plummet you’ve grown so accustomed to, but you remember you you have Randy so it’s not as bad as it could be

───⋆☆─────────────

You and Randy actually ended up having a pretty good time, even though you had this almost dread feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake no matter what you did.

you both smoked some more, danced a little and did a lot more making out followed by some groping

So once the party started to die down you were ready to go, you decided you were gunna spend the night at Randy’s place, feeling a bit anxious knowing what might possibly go down. You grab his hand and squeezed it looking at him while he drove trying to find something, anything in his features that could make you forget about the one person that seems to inhabit your mind constantly.

You keep telling yourself Randy’s good, he’s more than you could’ve asked for, he treats you great, too good even but that nagging feeling just won’t seem to subside

You give yourself a little pep talk before he’s pulling up to the parking garage

“You want him!” “Just have sex with him and forget about what’s his face!” “He’s probably balls deep in that girl right now, not giving you a second thought!”

“Wow, that last one hurt” you think to yourself

Once again Randy comes around to your side opening your door for you, this time you just shoot him a smile, still a little lost in your thoughts, he grabs your hand and walks with you up to his apartment

“Is everything okay?” He asks looking down at you with worried eyes

“Yeah I’m great!” The words rush out of you a little too fast

“Hey, if you’re nervous about us taking this further, you can tell me, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

God, why is he so perfect?

“No, I know, but I’m comfortable with it if you are?”

He chuckles shaking his head

“I’m more than comfortable with it, baby”

Once you get into his apartment you both start kissing, unable to keep your hands off each other he softly pushes you up against the back of the door, running his hand down the side of your thigh, inching his hand up past your skirt, you let out a soft moan when his lips attach to your neck sucking and licking, you can’t help but think about Eddie in this moment

“Is this how he’d kiss me?” “How he’d touch me?” “God, what I would do for him to touch me like this!” “No, no! You’re with Randy, not Eddie!” You mentally scold yourself.

His hand moves up toward your panties, snapping the side of your thong back in to your skin, as he smirks against your neck, his fingers finally touching the spot you’re craving the most, he dips his finger past your panties, swirling his thumb around your clit, you let out a high pitched moan not expecting to be so sensitive, forgetting weed has the tendency to do that to you

He continues with his assault on your clit, you’re a moaning mess now, almost unable to even keep yourself up as you clench around nothing feeling your orgasm begin to creep up on you, your brain is so scrambled by the pleasure that when you’re cumming you scream out the first name that comes to mind

“EDDIE!”

Randy removes his hand from your panties, unlatching his lips from your neck, he’s looking at you like you just told him his dog died, and you couldn’t feel any lower in this moment

“What the fuck?” Randy spits moving away from you a little

“What’d you say?”

“Randy, I’m so sorry! I don’t even know why or how that happened, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and-“

“Do you like Eddie, or something? Like is there something going on there?” He says cutting you off

“No, no I don’t!”

You shout, way less convincing then you were trying to be

“Listen, I’m not blind, I can see the way you look at each other, and the way he looks at me when I’m with you. I like you a lot y/n but I don’t want to be holding you back if there is something there”

You shake your head signaling that you understand what he’s saying, as you bite at your bottom lip, but nothings really registering, you feel utter humiliation rush over you, your mind is completely clouded, as you internally curse yourself

“I really am sorry, I never meant to drag you into this bullshit, I really like you too, you’re a great guy, but I don’t know maybe I need some time to just get over him before I jump into something new”

“Get over him?” Randy asks

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

“Because it’s not that simple” you say coming out more as a whisper

“Well if you figure it out and realize that asshats not for you, you know where to find me”

You give him a small nod and smile

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asks

“Yes, please” you answer back

───⋆☆─────────────

You decide to stay in and distance yourself from the outside world, you felt like a complete idiot, you humiliated yourself in front of the guy you were trying to move on with, how could you be so stupid and say another man’s name like that? You haven’t felt this low in a long time.

But little did you know the humiliation was about to get worst, Eddie was on his way to re-up on his stash at Ricks house, and apparently men gossip just as much as women because Rick told Eddie what had happened between you and Randy, all the grimey details.

That night while you were laying in bed still feeling sorry for yourself about the events that happened after the party, you got a phone call but you decided to let it ring

Not having the motivation to face anyone, it rang again, and then three more times before you started to get annoyed

You stood up from your bed and stomped over to the phone on your desk

“HELLO?!” You snapped

“Woah, sweetheart! Is that how you answer the phone for everyone? Or am I just special?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt

“What do you want, eddie?” You spit out harshly

“I wanted to talk to you, I feel like we haven’t just talked in a while, I miss you.” He said while whispering that last part and your body betrayed you by making your stomach flutter

“Yeah, well I don’t really feel like talking, I gotta go” you rush out

But before you have the chance to hang up eddie is shouting

“HOLD ON, HOLD ON! Don’t hang up y/n!”

You keep the phone held up to your ear silently telling him to keep going

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks

“I’m not sure yet, why?” You question

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come hang, watch a movie, order some pizza, you know like old times?” He says hopeful

“Um, I don’t know if that’s a good idea?” You say defeated

“Why? Your boyfriend won’t let you hang out with your best friend?” He scoffs

Eddie knew what happened between you and Randy but he wanted to see what you’d say about it

“Randy’s not my boyfriend, we’re not even really talking at the moment” you say while closing your eyes and taking a deep breath

Eddie smiles at the revelation, all though he knew what happened he wasn’t sure where that still left you and Randy, so this was music to Eddie’s ears

“Oh damn, are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?” He says while putting on his best concerned voice

“No, I really don’t, honestly.” You say taking another deep breathe

“Kay, well come hang out with me tomorrow and I’ll make you forget all about what’s his face.” Eddie says with a suggestive tone to his voice but you surprisingly don’t read too much into it

“Fine, fine! I’ll go, happy?” You retort

“The happiest!” He says

You both hang up and now instead of dwelling on the stupid mistake you made, you’re thinking about how the hell you’re suppose to face Eddie and act normal.

───⋆☆─────────────

part 3

THANK YOU FOR READING!

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader

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thiswaytwoinfinity · 2 months

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it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people

Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+

It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.

There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.

It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.

In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”

Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.

“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”

“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.

Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”

It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.

You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.

Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.

What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.

You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.

You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”

You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.

“I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”

For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.

The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.

Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.

“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.

“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”

“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”

He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.

“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.

For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.

It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.

He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.

It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.

Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.

Or maybe he was just a little jealous.

Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.

And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.

Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”

If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.

“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.

Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.

But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.

So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.

“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”

You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.

Annoyingly, he was beautiful.

Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”

Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —

“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”

It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.

He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.

“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.

You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.

“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”

His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —

The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)

“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.

You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.

“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”

He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”

“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”

“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”

Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.

“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”

There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.

“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”

He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.

“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”

“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.

“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”

You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.

“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”

You could give into it.

Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.

And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).

But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.

And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.

So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.

“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”

He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.

“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”

You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”

“Well, I’m one of a kind.”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.

Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.

Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉

Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.

Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego

Unknown: I know all the best spots after all

Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something

Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf

Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol

You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain

You: but having a tour guide sounds nice

You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?

You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.

Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place

You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.

-—-—-—-—-—

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin

Tagging some people who asked:

@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592

#top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman x reader #my fic #jake hangman x you #fic: it's a bad idea right?

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christinesficrecs · 6 months

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Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷

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“Then we have reached an accord.”

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“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”

His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“

“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“

Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.

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“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”

Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.

Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.

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“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

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The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.

And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.

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“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

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#sterek fics #sterek #ficrecs #fanfic writers #sterek fandom #author spotlight #lunacanislupus22 #author appreciation

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breeloveschris · 2 months

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If Only You Knew pt 12

Pt 11

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: Y/n has the biggest crush on Matthew Sturniolo but Matt doesn’t know she exists until Y/n’s video goes viral and everyone tags him in it

Warnings: cussing

It’s been a month since everything with Nia went down.

Every thing has been a complete shit show. I’ve been staying with the triplets and that’s been great besides the little stabs Chris pokes at me for not telling him about the guy I saw in our house with Nia.

I didn’t think they were that serious, and I didn’t think he’d care considering I found out they were fucking on the low. Well.. they thought they were but I knew from the start when they constantly conveniently disappeared.

My TikTok account got banned because Nia went on live that night “crying” and telling everyone I used Matt for money and views.

She got our whole fandom to report me on TikTok and im just now getting unbanned.

Matt tried to clear the air by making a video of all of us dancing around to some random song he found, which only lead me to get more hate and them some as well because they were hanging out with me.

Nia completely deleted our YouTube channel resulting in me having to start my own.

Starting my own YouTube channel has been hell.

I can only thank Nick for helping me out as much as he has, he’s literally my bestfriend.

Me and Matt haven’t really hung out one on one since that night, we’ve both been extremely busy. And I’ve ended up falling asleep in Nicks room while we stayed up until 7 am editing or simply just talking almost every night.

Me and Nick have been watching a movie every night which is what we’re doing right now.

We’re watching a random comedy that Nick picked out, Chris and Matt are at one of their friends house.

I was watching the movie when Nick paused the movie and turned to me, my eyes widen and I slowly looking over at him with a small smile.

“Yes?” I giggled at the dramatics, “what’s going on with you and my brother?” he tilted his head to the side.

I sighed and lowered my head. Nick pushed my arm “well?” He asked patiently waiting, “I don’t know” I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

“We just don’t have time to hangout anymore, which is crazy considering I’m literally living with y’all right now” I slowly looked up at Nick who had a small frown on his face.

“How about you sleep in his room tonight? We can hangout tomorrow night” he suggested smiling sweetly, “that’s a great idea.. if he comes home tonight, he texted me earlier to tell you that he might be staying over there tonight” I shrugged.

“do you think he is seeing someone?” i asked, my heart rapidly beating as i wait for an answer.

“Probably not..?” He answered, hesitantly after a pause. “Nick!” I groaned shaking my head, well that helped my thoughts none.

“Okay okay, he’s probably out with Sam right now. I mean Chris is with him right now, do you really think he’d bring Chris to hangout with a girl?” He tilted his head with raised eyebrows.

I side eyed him, “yes, what the fuck” I glared at him. “Okay you’re right..” he sighed with a face I couldn’t read.

“I’m so tired” I said as I slumped down into the couch, “I say go to bed in Matt’s room” he said with a smirk.

“What if he gets mad?” I whispered looking at him, “girl he literally said you was gonna stay in his room to begin with” he laughed shaking his head, he stood up and started walking to the stairs up to his room.

My eyes followed him as I brought my lower lip in my mouth to nibble the skin.

He stopped and turned around as he reached the first step, “I’m going to bed, if you don’t come to my room I’ll know you chose to sleep in Matt’s room. Goodnight i love you” he said, he then turned around and disappeared behind the walls of the stairs.

I sighed as I slowly looked at the tv in front of me, maybe I’ll just text him and see if he’s coming home and I’ll wait until he answers to make my decision.

Y/n 🤍

Hey, Are you coming back tn?

I pressed send and swiped out of the messages deciding to watch TikTok as I wait.

It’s been two whole hours since I sent that text. I groaned as I looked at the time.

I’m so tired.

I sighed as I clicked on Matt’s message to send another text only to find out he opened it an hour ago.

I smirked with a fake laugh but quickly dropped my smirk. He could’ve forgotten to answer me, but it’s unlikely considering every other time he accidentally left me on open he’d call me apologizing repeatedly.

My body moved before my brain could even process, as I found myself walking towards Matt’s room.

My eyes felt heavy and I wasn’t about to walk up them stairs and wake up Nick in the process.

I pushed open the door with my head down and closed it behind me.

I miss how it used to be, when Matt would actually talk to me besides just dinner when he had to cause nick would say something.

My eyes trailed down my body checking out my outfit, I sigh as I realized I was still in jeans. I looked around the room trying to find any sweats laying around that I could steal only seeing a big t shirt laying on his bed.

It looked like he had pulled it out to wear only to decide on something else.

I walked over to it and slowly traced my fingers on it, I shrugged as I started pulling my crop tank off.

I threw on the shirt and looked down at my jeans, I smirked as I pulled them off letting them land on the floor.

Climbing into the bed, I immediately knew I was gonna wanna sleep here more.

His sheets were silky and his blankets was so comfortable, and don’t even get me started on the pillows. I could lay here for days and never get up.

I pulled out my phone when I finally got under the blankets and was in a good sleeping position.

No reply, no call, not even a text reaction.

I turned it off and laid there thinking about this past month and how shitty it’s been.

I ended up falling asleep an hour later into a dreamless sleep.

Breespeaks: should I do the next part in Matt’s pov??

Taglist: @worldlxvlys @luverboychris @sturniolosmind @stuniolobbg @iloveneilperry @freshloveforthefit @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosreads @novasturniolo03 @robins-scoop @hearts4chriss @creamoncreamoncream2 @tcvazq @bunbunbl0gs @chrisloyalgf @lilsstvrn @youaremyfiveever @whicked-hazlatwhore @gnxosblog @annamcdonalds67 @1blowyourmind @ilovedasturniolos @bellbottombaby @pinklittleflower @dlyansworld @sleepdeprivedandinsane @sttzee @sturniololol @emerald-09 @kqyslyho3 @beardedstudentsuit @ifilwtmfc @sturnssmuts @bitterspoons @jada-lockwood @h3arts4harry @itwasmarooonn @alorsxsturn @sturnzsblog @sturnad @patscorner @realuvrrr @mssturniolo @itwasmarooonn

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #breespeaks #nate doe #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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thatdeadaquarius · 2 months

Note

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.

#genshin isekai #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin imagines #genshin impact #my asks #genshin impact sagau #genshin x reader #aqua asks #aqua chats #10/10 rlly fun idea #this was fun to juggle and even tho i feel like i kinda flopped it #it was still a fun idea for future sagau endeavors tbh #:) <3 #no but srsly im getting wisdom teeth surgery pls send everything good u got my way im nervous #its just intimidating to be knocked out and drugged up what can i say #might even write some sagau angst abt it when im languishing my fate in bed afterwards

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xervn · 3 months

Text

like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

last chapter | next chapter

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.

ellie: oh hdy!

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :)

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!”

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.

“Even with me?”

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”

“Of you or the girls?”

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.

“Hey, Els?”

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.

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