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jarofstyles · 4 months

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Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

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Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

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“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning.

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask.

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different.

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to.

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked.

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster.

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention.

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date.

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more.

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more.

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things.

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself.

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home.

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was.

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open.

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled.

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed.

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile.

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall.

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze.

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it. “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped.

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.”

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.”

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?”

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.” He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time.

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was.

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.”

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them.

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.”

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though.

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.”

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out.

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.”

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was.

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?”

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.”

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags.

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.”

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one.

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk.

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing.

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart.

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over, “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.”

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror.

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair.

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.”

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this.

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?”

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.”

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror.

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.”

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either.

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.”

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times.

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions.

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants.

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure.

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-”

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal.

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit.

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this.

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied.

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.”

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.”

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.”

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.”

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.”

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.”

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.”

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own.

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly.

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?”

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.”

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.”

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.”

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.”

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.”

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.”

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?”

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again.

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.”

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him.

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on.

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.”

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.”

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head.

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake.

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.”

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see.

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?”

How could he ever tell her no?

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop.

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it.

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face.

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck.

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him.

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic.

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.”

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head.

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.”

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time.

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshots #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfictions

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circeyoru · 7 months

Text

Unwanted Soul _ Part 5 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here)

How you had such a depressing life was beyond Alastor. He didn’t understand it. Can’t comprehend it! But he pushed these questions back to tend to your sadden mood, tucking you in and lulling you to sleep

Alastor sat next to your sleeping form, the room pitch black save for his glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness. His staff played soft music to calm you down and fill the silence of the room. The only tears you should be shredding are ones of joy and happiness

The people you’ve mentioned, surely they were in Hell as well. They can’t be in Heaven for causing you such torment. He can’t let you see them, any of them. He needs to get to them first. However, for now, he can’t leave you alone in such a state

His eyes closed as he thought out how he’d torture them. Perhaps skinning them till they beg for mercy and your forgiveness? Pulling out their limbs and draining their blood? Letting the cannibals partake in a feast? No, no, he had to enjoy this. They were your tormentors when you were alive, he’ll show you that he can and will be your protector, even a guarddog if he must

But his heinous thoughts were put to a hold when you shifted in your sleep. He pushed away his thoughts while he watched your serene form rest. He put away his monocle, laying beside you and gently pull you closer to him so he was hugging you to his chest. His eyes drooped close. Perhaps he should let those unfortunate souls enjoy Hell a bit longer. If they crossed his path or yours, their voice will be on his everlasting broadcast

When things got slow for you, you found yourself hanging out with the hotel residents at times. They were an interesting bunch to say the least

Charlie was always happy to see you and would invite you on her little activities and exercises to redeem sinners. Though you’d mostly decline unless it catches your interest in some way. On the rare chance you join, she was very appreciative of your presence and wasn’t shy to thank you for joining in front of everyone. Her cheerful attitude was a bit of a hit and miss for you

There was one exercise that got you sharing something you’ve almost forgot

“Okay! Last two to share! Who’s going first?” Charlie beamed

“I’ll go first, My Darling needs all the time to recall!” Alastor directed the attention to him. “My joy in my hay day is my murders. Oh how I felt the rush when chasing my victims, hunting them like prey in the woods. The warmth of their body fading the moment I repeated stabbed my trusty blade into their weak bodies. The—”

“Okay, okay, you can shut it with the creepy killing. Sheesh.” Vaggie interrupted with a groan. She turned to you who was still in a daze, completely unfazed with what Alastor said. “You ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh, okay.” You snapped out of your daydream, unconsciously, your hand patted on your book that was strapped to your hip. “My joy when I was alive… I barely remember it, but I loved going to the library and read all the books I can.”

“That’s surprisingly cute considering you’re with that freaky smil—” Angel’s mouth was immediately shut with the slap of Alastor’s staff

You continued without flinching, this was all a normal banter between the two already now that you were hanging out with the crew more. “I frequent the library, borrowing and finishing a stack of books everyday. The librarian would recommend me new books or save me my favourite corner. I can even eat and drink in the library just because.”

Charlie’s head tilted, “So you love reading.”

“Not just reading. I love books of all kinds. Sometimes I rad that book just cause I liked the texture or the shape of it. I collect books and keep it like treasures. I hate lending books to other because they don’t care for it like I do.” You fondly smiled at the memory, “Then I got a bunch of notebooks too, because I love the design or the cover.”

Lucifer leaned back into his chair, “No wonder your powers are centered around books.”

“Better call you bookworm now! Hahahaa—” Angel was hit by two cranes, one from Alastor and another from Lucifer. Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk flinched with a face twisted to pain as if they felt that. Niffty was living in the moment, wanting one too

Husk gulped some alcohol, “You better shut that loud mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you.”

Everyone laughed and chuckled, Charlie concluding that it was a good exercise and bonding time since everyone was in attendance. Alastor got up and offered you his hand, bringing you two back to your room. You stayed out of it, being in a daze again

When Alastor asked if you were fine, you smiled and said you were fine, if you needed anything, he would be the first you’d call for. So he left you alone

You didn’t tell them. You were that absorbed into reading that you didn’t realize you were being bullied, you were used. You shared your dream of wanting to be a writer that people would love to read what you wrote and share it with friends, to entertain others. You shared your ideas with your friend but your ideas were stolen from you

The moment you handed in your writing, the publishing company said they had one already and that yours was not up-to-date. They rejected your writing. Days later, you saw the newest novel on sell. The title was so similar to yours that you checked the summary at the back. That was your story idea. But your work was rejected so how was it published?

Your nightmare came to life. A betrayal so painful and chilling. Your friend’s name was on the cover. You remember your hands shaking. It wasn’t rage you felt, it was disbelief and sadness. The trust you gave, the care you gave, and the attention you gave. It was all to stab you in the back

You watched from behind the screens at the achievement and success that should have been yours. All of it, it should have been yours to smile upon. But then you were crying and shutting yourself behind the world of fantasy, an escape from reality

Why? Why? Why!

Closing your eyes for a moment, you locked up those memories. They don’t mean much to you now. Not when you had Alastor with you and an unlikely friendship with Lucifer the King of Hell himself, then there was the silly demons of this hotel. Ironic how you found true friends in demons

That’s why when you saw Mimzy again in the hotel, you were skeptical and burning with rage. She had someone as amazing and caring as Alastor to call as a friend, but she’s abusing it without a care. How she has the guts to come back and ask for Alastor, you have no idea, though you’ve seen her kind when you were alive

“You’re a new soul!” Mimzy’s voice made you want to throw glass or grip something until it broke. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want?” You eyed down at Mimzy with a bored expression

She let out a sound akin to ‘uww’ with a face of disgust. “You’re never gonna get your lucky someone with that attitude.”

Your eye twitched, “I never said I was.”

Mimzy gave you a fake shocked look, “Really? I thought you were going for Alastor!”

You groaned, heading over to the bar to ask Husk for something to drink (not alcohol) because you didn’t want this annoyance to follow you to your room

“Hey,” Mimzy sat next to you without asking, “You know what Alastor’s like when he’s upstairs?”

You ignored her, but your face of silent rage was enough to get her to continue

“You don’t know. He’s a realy lady’s killer! Not literally, but you get what I mean. Girls and ladies throw themselves at him and he doesn’t even bat them an eye. A nice wave and a dashing smile, then he leaves them high and dry! Oh, the broken hearts he had was definitely more than his body count and that’s something!” Mimzy laughed at the end

What’s that got to do with you? You thought to yourself as you aggressive sipped on your drink. Husk eyed you two while cleaning some glass to appear like he was busy. You’ll maybe admit, you were a bit envious of Mimzy that she got to see Alastor when he was alive, you wonder how he looked. Not like you were going to ask

Mimzy endlessly talked bad about Alastor behind his back. What happened to trying to apologise and wanting to make up? No idea, down the drain at this point. As the others around you wonder why you were still humouring the chatty demon, you were wondering the same. Why are you just sitting here and listening to all this?

“You should shut it, can’t you see you’re the only one talking here?” Husk spoke up, indirectly telling Mimzy to just leave you alone

“Aww, and you should do your job, bar cat.” Mimzy teased back. “I’m given this poor soul some attention cause Alastor’s too high of a standard to give some.”

“Ha! Jokes on you. This hot stu— I mean, cutie here’s always got smile’s attention.” Angel inserted himself into the conversation, climbing over the bar to stand next to Husk

You got up, “This is a waste of time.”

Mimzy faked another gasp, “No way. You poor poor thing. You actually fell for him of all people of this hellhole?” She got so close in your face and not to mention your personal space, “I understand why, but! Ha! That’s just bad luck! You’re bound to get your heart broken like all those poor ladies before you.”

Before you said anything, Husk’s wing separated Mimzy from you, “You really need to shut the hell up before you regret it.”

“You shut it fur ball! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Mimzy snapped at Husk

Deciding that it was not worth your time, you started walking away. This was drama you didn’t want to be involved in and you didn’t want Alastor catching this happening since he sees Mimzy as a friend still

“The hotel won’t allow this.” Charlie tried to establish order and break things off

“Alastor will leave you in the dirt worse than whatever you were before once he’s had his fun with you! You might think you’re on cloud 9 now, but you’re going to be in a world of pain and hurt soon enough.” Mimzy continued, completely ignoring Charlie and Husk’s words

With each step you took, she continued as if singing a song, “Alastor only like things that entertains him. He never commits. He never cares. He doesn’t even have a heart to care! He’s so powerful because he has no room for ridicious things like love. The love he has is only for himself. Alastor is just a selfish heartless motherf—”

“Shut up!” You turned to her, a deep scowl on your face

“This is gonna be good.” Lucifer whispered to the others watching, “But bad for her. Yeah.”

“Shut you annoying f- mouth.” You snapped, unaware that your hair leviated a bit from your rage. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a friend like Alastor. Alive and dead. But what do you do? You use Alastor’s name just for the fun of it and for your benefit. You just use it! How can you use your friendship with him like this! What’s wrong with your stupid tiny head?! In Hell, you’re supposed to treasure what you have. Not abuse it.”

Mimzy scoffed, “You think you’re so good? So righteous. Well, you would have been up there, now wouldn’t you. Don’t think you’re any better.” She smirked, “In Hell, we use everything and anything to our advantage.” Another gasp came and she covered her mouth, “Oh wait, could it be?” She got close to you, “Haha, you being so defensive and triggered by all this. You really actually did fall for him.”

“I love him.”

“Wait? Couldn’t hear you, sugar—”

“I love Alastor.” You repeated firmly and loudly

“What was that?”

Getting annoyed, you turned to the direction where the question came from. Perhaps it was all this anger in your system that made you slow to realize, “I said,” That you were now face to face with Alastor. “I love you!”

Note: This part's major focus has been mentioned in an ask already. And since it's confirmed that you and Alastor are dating in the latest asks and requests, I'm putting this scene in more detail since asks are trivia for the story

P.S. There's something new planned for future chapters~ Remember that lover and friend mentioned? OCs might be appearing cause I can't do rando short forms. Still thinking... You're thoughts? Or should I just end this series?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

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@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

@nevermore-ramblings

@justboredforreal

@youroneandonlysimp

@falsemain

@scenteddelusion5

@anni1600

@readergirlstuff

@salutations-demonsanddappers

@mistpurpl3

@haruskrd

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@paninibit

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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distantdarlings · 7 months

Text

BENEATH HIS SHIRT // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 3.7K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Female Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When Theodore Nott discovers an old artifact with interesting properties, known as a Time Turner, he comes up with the idea to use it to perfect his asking you out. (Romance)

+ WARNINGS - Language, using Time Turner, lots of thinking about reader, fem reader insert, not proofread! nothing else (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

All My Love - Noah Kahan

- - -

(Note: Hello there, all you beautiful people! I am finally back and ready to knock out the rest of your requests! I am so sorry I was gone for so long but I’ve had a lot going on in my everyday life. Thank you all for being so patient and please enjoy the story!)

Theo’s leg bounced beneath the desk, the wooden floorboards creaking every so often. His fingers nervously drummed against his notebooks. His eyes darted around. The teacher droned on and on.

Every so often, he felt his hand raise to his chest to gently nudge the cold weight that rested beneath his shirt. He figured it was a bit of paranoia stemming from the valuable thing around his neck, but he couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t even supposed to have it.

He’d found it when rooting through Professor McGonagall’s office last week. He knew how bad that sounded, but, in his defense, he didn’t mean to grab it. He was trying to grab the small chain he’d gotten at Hogsmeade last year—he’d been playing with it during class, and McGonagall had become annoyed with him. She had said he could have it back at the end of the month, but he wasn’t going to wait that long. He’d spent his money on that necklace, and he’d wanted it back.

The realization that he’d grabbed the wrong necklace hadn’t hit until he’d finally gotten back to his dorm. He’d run the whole way and failed to look down even once.

The item he’d held clenched in his fist was a golden chain with a single spherical charm at the end. It was golden, as well, with intricate carvings encasing it. He didn’t know what the hell he’d grabbed and figured it was some girl’s that McGonagall had snatched up, just like his.

He had rolled his eyes in annoyance, promising to head back tomorrow to go grab his necklace and return the one now settled in his palm.

Except he hadn’t gone back the next day. In the midst of getting ready for bed in the empty bathroom that night, he’d begun to mindlessly fidget with the golden object whilst brushing his teeth.

His fingers had traced the end of it, watching the rings around the charm twirl in on each other. The minty suds had spilled over the edge of his bottom lip, and when he had gone to catch the mess, his finger had jerked against the side of the charm just barely, and he was standing straight up again.

The suds still sat on the edge of his lip. They slid slowly, slowly, then pushed over and hit the ground with a wet splat. His eyes stared forward at the reflection of the necklace in his hand.

He didn’t know what the hell happened. It felt like his body had glitched out of reality for a moment. Surely it was just a coincidence, and he’d just had some more minty mess dribbling from his lips than he initially thought. But then, where had the original bit of toothpaste gone? He surely hadn’t caught it. He stepped back and looked around, searching over the stone floor and his person, attempting to find the missing blob of toothpaste. What the hell was going on?

His eyes found the necklace clutched between his fingers. He brushed his thumb over the golden jewelry just as he’d done the first time.

The earth glitched again, and the toothbrush was back in his mouth, and he was a step forward, closer to the mirror. He’d gasped and dropped his toothbrush and the jewelry in the sink, backing away wildly.

And after he’d played with it a few more times, he had decided to research it in the library. And now, as he sat in class, waiting for it to end, he felt as if it couldn’t come fast enough. He needed to get to the library so he could figure out what exactly this necklace did.

If he had to guess, he’d imagine that it turned the world back a bit at a time. Every time he touched the charm in a specific way—a small knob-like detail on the side of the globe itself—the day would jump back, and he’d be standing where he had been a few minutes before.

He was unsure of the extent of its power or if it really even did turn back time, but he intended to find out.

“Class dismissed!” McGonagall’s voice flashed through his mind.

At the sound of her announcement, he quickly gathered his things and rushed off toward the library, not bothering to excuse himself.

His breaths came out in quick, rasping pants as he appeared before the main entrance to the library. The hands that grasped his coat and bag collected beads of sweat rapidly, the small droplets slipping down his fingers.

“Nott? Everything alright?”

He whipped around, searching for the owner of the voice that had just grabbed his attention. Just before him, nearly a foot shorter, was Hermione Granger.

She stared up at him—eyes concerned, lips parted, hair bushy and wild, arms gripping a large number of books. One of her eyebrows quirked as if she was awaiting his response.

“Oh, sorry, Granger,” he chuckled nervously. “I was just trying to get to the library ahead of everybody…I’ve got some studying to do.” Wow, what a pathetic lie. Hermione knew it, too.

“Okay…did you need any help?” she asked. “I am a library ambassador.” Her voice was proud, chest perked out.

Just before he was about to blurt a loud, suspicious ‘no!’, he had a revelation. Hermione Granger was a Gryffindor and a tad annoying, but she was also one of the smartest students in the entirety of the castle, perhaps even in the Wizarding World. If anyone was able to help him at this moment—who wasn’t a professor and/or blatant snitch—it was her. He swallowed thickly.

“Actually, yes,” he said, nervously toying with the shoulder straps on his bag.

“Perfect, let’s get set up at a table!” she smiled widely, gently pushing past him and leading the way.

Theo had not been wrong in recruiting Granger’s assistance. She was bloody brilliant. The only information he’d given her, as suspicious as it had sounded, was he was doing a project about “magical objects—specifically jewelry” in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As dumb as the cover was, it seemed to work.

She’d set to work instantly, selecting tens of twenties of thickly bound books that had to be at least a hundred years old. When she pulled them from the shelf, her fingers fell away from them, allowing them to fall down to about waist height, where they would catch themselves in mid-air. As she scanned the shelves, they floated alongside her.

Theo was in awe of her incredible knowledge; he actually found himself interested in the millions of side tangents she went on. It was clear she was very intelligent.

The two of them had sat at a quiet table and set to work, with Hermione leading the way. She had pored over each book she’d decided upon, choosing between a number of fantastical objects, including a goblet that never let itself empty and a collection of garden tools in Sweden that did their own work without ever having been tweaked by a Wizard. It was fascinating.

Theo had even started working his way through one of the books when he’d spotted it. On a dusty, yellowed page, he saw a near-perfect sketch of the object now strung around his neck. Time-Turner. A small gasp left his lips, and his hands went to clutch against the necklace. It was an involuntary reaction, but one that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Hermione.

“Interested in the Time Turner?” she asked. “Would you like to use that one for your project? It’s quite brilliant.” Her eyes glanced down to his clutched fist, fingers still curled around the Time-Turner through his sweater. He let go and dropped his hand to his lap.

“I just thought it sounded very cool…” Theo said, sounding very unsure of himself. “Do you have any more books on it?”

“Um, I could search about if you wanted to look over that one a bit more,” she offered. Theo nodded, his eyes avoiding hers. Despite his obvious avoidance of her gaze, she set herself back down at the table and forced his eyes to find hers once more.

“Theo?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. He felt as though he was sweating profusely.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and it’s not meant to upset you, but…are you currently in possession of any school-banned objects?”

His eyes flickered up to hers in shock. He hadn’t expected her to ask that if he were being honest. She hadn’t even skirted around the subject or anything. He paused for a moment, trying to find the words.

“No,” he breathed, his chest tight. He could barely look at her.

“Okay,” she said, expression unconvinced. “Well, so that you know—for your project—Time-Turners can be dangerous if not used properly. Your past self can never see your present self.” Oh. That was good to know.

She nodded her head slightly, eyebrows still furrowed tightly, before turning to walk away. She left Theo staring blankly at the open book before him. She definitely didn’t believe him. He hoped she wouldn’t rat him out.

He got to his feet and quickly exited the library.

***

Once back in his dorm, a thought washed over him. He could use this Time-Turner to benefit himself in an extreme amount of ways. He could go back and fix tests he’d failed, he could correct arguments with his family, he could—

A knock came at the door. He quickly shoved the object back beneath his shirt, shouting a brief invitation at the door.

The first thing he saw was your eyes as they poked through the door. He sat up, tugging the comforter over his naked chest.

“Oh!” you giggled, stepping back behind the door. “You’re naked!”

“No, not naked! Just need to grab a shirt!” Theo said, frantically searching about his bed for a stray tee shirt. He noticed one strewn over the back of his desk chair.

“Accio!” he hissed. The gray fabric tossed itself towards him, allowing him to sling it over his head and down his torso. “Come in!”

You pushed back through the door, a sly smirk printed on your lips.

“Shut up,” he laughed, patting the bed beside him. You jogged over to his side of the dormitory and hopped into his bed, sliding your legs beneath the covers. Your cold skin raised with chill bumps at his warmth.

Theo asked you about your day, and you asked about his, and he contemplated telling you about the Time-Turner for over two hours before you finally disappeared back into your dorm. In your absence, he realized something he hadn’t before.

He could use the small golden jewelry rested around his neck to finally confess his feelings for you—and he could make sure it was perfect no matter what. He just had to make sure his past self did not see his present self.

---

And that mission consumed the rest of his week—or the rest of his Monday. At the start of the first day, he’d found himself approaching you and then flaking out; or starting to tell you, then changing the subject; or telling you he loved you! (but as a friend). He groaned and rolled his eyes at himself.

At this point, there were going to be ten little Theos running around Hogwarts. Now that it was Tuesday, all of them should have been swept away with the passage of time, but he wasn’t certain he’d gone completely unspotted by everyone around him. He could’ve sworn Mattheo, a close friend of his, had mentioned how impossibly fast he’d gotten from one side of the castle to the other.

With a clenched jaw and stern eyes, Theo told himself he wasn’t going to push this little journey past Tuesday. He was going to get it done today.

In the midst of his repeated attempts, he’d gotten creative to avoid being seen by his past self. He’d snuck little tips written onto notes in his dorm, pretended that students could not go into certain rooms so his other self could be alone with you, etc. He knew that that could be dangerous, and he definitely didn’t understand the full capabilities of the Timer-Turner, but he realized that if there was one thing he truly wanted at the moment, it was you.

This was the last time.

He pinched the Time-Turner’s little knobbed bead and turned—24 times. That should put everyone back on Monday morning, at exactly ten o’clock in the morning.

Theo watched as the air around him in the boys’ lavatory began to shift—little flashes of passersby sped around him; Professor Snape even pushed through the door at one point. The day became darker and darker until the whole bathroom was plunged into an inky blackness. Then, it began to leave quickly, becoming lighter and lighter until the rushing stopped. The lavatory was silent. It was ten o’clock on Monday morning.

He had Potions right now, but he’d already written a note to Professors Snape and Dumbledore, asking to be excused from all of his classes due to a raging stomach ache. He’d gotten unfortunately detailed in the letter and hoped they’d leave him to attend the hospital wing on his own.

He watched before him as ten Theos seemed to step out of his body and walk toward the lavatory entrance. These were his previous attempts trying to make you his.

An idea popped into his head—one that may not work the way he planned. He had failed to ask Hermione how exactly any incidents would affect his present self, but he figured he’d come out alright.

“Petrificus Totalus!” he hissed, then watched as all ten of his other bodies froze suddenly and collapsed to the ground, falling like dominos. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, dragged them over to one of the stalls in the furthest corner, and propped them up against the wall. Despite their eyes still staring right through him, they were not able to see his face. He was appalled at the way he was treating himself, but he figured if he wasn’t able to remember it, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like he’d killed himself or anything like that; he’d likely just be a bit sore in the morning.

Still, perhaps he should have thought that through a bit more… It didn’t matter. This was the last time he was going to create more of himself for no reason. He should have successfully asked you out the first time, but, for some reason, he kept seeming to screw it all up. He was pathetic, using a magical object to ask someone out.

If any of his mates knew about this…he’d never live it down. He took a deep breath, straightened his tie and robes, and stepped out of the bathroom.

You were in Defense right now and would be going to your free period directly afterwards. He knew this because this was his eleventh time trying.

He pulled himself behind one of the enormous stone pillars holding the castle up and waited for your voice to come. Every single time, you walked out of your class, your laugh jingling like a chime through the halls and melting Theo’s heart down into his stomach. He anticipated the start of the sound.

When it began, Theo poked his head around the corner and saw you there—arms clutched around books, gorgeous hair framing your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful body on display as your group of friends turned to walk towards him. He gulped, standing back slightly.

“…and I was just wondering if he was, you know—”

“Hey,” Theo stepped out of his hiding place, interrupting you. Your shining eyes met his. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Your mouth slacked open for just a moment before you blinked a few times and nodded slowly. The two girls on either side of you seemed to be suppressing smirks and eyeing you intently. He took a shuddering breath, hoping that these girls would not be making fun of him some time in the future.

Theo had told himself that this was the last time, so if he fucked this attempt up, that was it. He would throw the Time Turner away.

One of your friends offered to take your books and bag back to your dormitory. You turned back to Theo and smiled shyly.

Gently, he led you away from the gradually increasing wave of Hogwarts students and down a mostly empty corridor.

You followed him in silence until he turned the corner, and brought you out into a silent courtyard. The sun above twinkled over the fountain in the center of the blooming area.

Theo saw you smile a bit.

“Uh, I’m sorry to have pulled you away from your friends, I just wanted to talk to you about something…” he trailed off nervously, his palms already beginning to sweat. Your eyes watched him so closely—it was becoming hard to breathe.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ve developed feelings for you—ones of, uh, a…romantic…nature—wait, that’s awful… I meant I think you’re absolutely gorgeous…uh…” he stuttered endlessly, his perfect plan drowning. “I’m sorry, can you just please forget I never said any of this?”

“Theo, why would I want to forget any of this?” You chuckled gently, a small well of tears in your eyes. “You’ve been nothing but sweet and romantic and loving these last eleven days.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve just wanted to ask you out properly—hey, wait. What did you say?” Theo stopped, blood draining from his face.

“Oh,” you frowned a bit. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but…”

You reached beneath your sweater and slipped a silver chain over your head. At the very end of the links, glistening in the sun, was a deep emerald stone, hard-cut and encapsulated in silver linings. A rough breath left Theo’s lips.

“It’s a Reversal stone,” you explained, “a stone meant to protect me from any charms, curses, or illusions placed on or around me. There’s only a few of them in the world but my family happens to be the ones who originally discovered them and their immunity to magic.”

Theo wanted to throw up. He was sure he had glimpsed one of these in one of the books Hermione had brought to him. He had never been so embarrassed in his life.

“So, you’ve seen everything?” he asked, wincing a bit.

“And remember it all—but don’t worry, no one else will.” You flashed him a dazzling smile.

“So, I guess you know about the—”

“Time Turner?” You answered. “Yeah, I do. But your usage of it was very impressive; it’s almost like you’ve used one for years. Where did you get yours—oh, wait, I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of you. Go ahead!” You urged him along with your hands.

Theo chuckled at your natural curiosity. His eyes traced over your small smile as you awaited his prepared speech.

“Do you even want me to go through with this?” Theo asked.

“I’d love to hear it again,” you said sincerely. Theo refrained from cringing at the ‘again.’

“It’s going to be the same thing you’ve heard every time,” he laughed nervously. “Is your answer going to change at all?”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t get to answer the first times. You always cut me off and got to work spinning on that necklace of yours.”

Theo paused and thought back to each instance he’d reversed time and attempted to ask you out. He slowly realized that he'd never actually waited for your answer. He’d gotten too embarrassed and walked away.

“If you would have let me finish the first eleven times, you would’ve known that I couldn’t have cared any less about how you asked me out,” you smile flirtatiously. “All I cared about was the fact that you were asking me out.”

“So, does that mean…?” Theo trailed off.

“I’d love to be yours, Theo,” you laughed. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask for forever and—while I didn’t think you’d need an infamously enchanted object to ask me out—I would never have said no to you.”

Theo’s eyes lit up and his lips parted in a giddy smile. Despite his nerdish attempts at proposing the perfect question to you, you still wanted him. Had wanted him for a while. At least that was what you’d implied. Theo could barely force the words from his lips.

“So, we’re dating, then?” Theo asked dumbly. “You’re my girlfriend now?”

“Of course…if that’s what you’d like to call me, that is,” you smiled, sending a wink towards the tall boy. His cheeks flushed slightly as he slowly slid his hand towards you. You accepted the invitation by sliding your fingers against his, intertwining them lovingly.

Theo thought his heart might explode. He was already thinking of kissing you. Your lips looked so perfect and lush… He imagined you’d taste like the sweetest of fruits in the summertime, like the entirety of Honeydukes, like—

“Would you like to kiss me, Teddy?” You asked. Theo swallowed thickly. Could that damn necklace of yours allow you to read minds as well? “I’d just very much like to kiss you, and thought that I’d ask.”

“Uh, I’d love to,” he smiled nervously.

“Theo,” you breathed, resting your lips just above his. “Relax. You don’t have to be so nervous. Is this the first kiss you’ve ever had?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re alright,” you laughed.

His eyes were wide and frightened, his lips parted in a perpetual sigh. He could barely contain himself as your hand trailed up and along his chest before sweetly reaching his face. Your soft fingers caressed the flesh around his ear and then across his mouth. Theo’s breath caught in his throat at the sensation.

You gave him a small smile before lightly dragging your fingers under his chin and disappearing back through the entrance to the courtyard.

Theo remained standing, amongst the stone and the vines, with only his breathing and the trickle of the fountain behind him. His deep exhales brought him back to the present. He blinked sharply and laughed a bit at your boldness.

He was going to get you back.

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @lilymurphy03, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @starsval, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch (If you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me, or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theo nott #mattheo riddle #fem reader

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rinhaler · 7 months

Note

As promised!!! Since I love your writing, I had this imagination spark while listening to Chase Atlantic's "HEAVEN AND BACK" song, oddly to say I associate Rin Itoshi in every CA songs. Basically could I request a steamy one-night stand of him meeting reader in a big crowded bar where Rin is likely a bass guitarist? Sounds cheesy of it but XD

GLAD U SAID BASS PLAYER MY BOYF PLAYS BASS 😭 sorry this took SO long to post but I hope u like it :3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, alcohol consumption, (kinda fast) enemies to lovers, fingering, love bites, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess etc.), squirting.

words: 2.2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to a gig. Especially one like this, in a dingy dive bar for a barely known local band. The guitarist is a friend of your cousin’s. And she just about begged you to go.

The place is pretty packed and the music definitely isn’t the worst you’ve heard. In fact, you found yourself swaying your hips and tapping your toes along to the beat. As the night went on and on, you were surprised to find that they were actually good. Good enough to be searching for their latest single when they promoted it at the end of their set.

“Play nice please,” your cousin begs. “I really like him, and I think tonight might be the night.”

“I knew he wasn’t just a fucking friend.” you laugh. She crosses her arms across her chest as embarrassment surges through her, but you still decide to tease her. “You really needed me to help you get some dick?”

“Shut up!” she blushes. “You always have guys falling at your feet so I thought it might rub off on me.” she pouts.

You clear your throat when you notice the guy in question heading your way. She turns around, instantly, smoothing her hair down and putting on the highest, girliest voice she can muster. He seems interested enough without her needing your help, but you decide to stay a few extra seconds for moral support. She giggles at every sentence and smiles giddily whenever he speaks.

“Tone it down, you’re good.” you whisper in her ear before slinking away to the bar.

You signal for a drink, thankful for the low-cut top you’re wearing as everyone else seems to be instantly ignored in favour of you. There’s a scoff beside you, one you choose to ignore until he watches you receive your pint of beer.

“Is there something on my face?” you ask.

“No.” he responds. “I’m jealous of your drink, princess.”

“Excuse me, can you get this guy a beer too?” you yell. The bartender nods with a smile and quickly acquiesces. “Will that put a smile on your pretty face?”

He smirks but shakes his head as he ignores you. He thanks the bartender as he receives his own drink, the frothy head attaching itself to his lip before he licks it away. He grunts a little as he feels a passerby knock into the big black case on his back. It’s only then that you notice it, and pieces begin to fall into place.

“Oh fuck. You were in the band.” you smile excitedly as you angle your body to face him. “I wasn’t gonna come tonight but I’m glad I did.” you giggle as you pull up your phone to show the bands single saved in your music library.

“Thanks.” he nods. “Why did you come?”

“Uh my cousin is trying to fuck the guitarist.”

“You’re Ada’s cousin?” he asks, expression changing to one of slight annoyance. He takes another swig of his beer before elaborating. “Zantetsu hasn’t shut up about her and she’s always crashing our practices. I hope they get it over with, it’s getting in the way.”

“Oh you’re a serious musician. Gotcha.” you roll your eyes. “You know you play the most boring instrument out of everyone, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“Drummers are the hottest, guitars are the most iconic, everyone’s drawn to the singer. And then there’s… you. No one can even hear you over all of that, you know.”

He scoffs once again. You can tell he wants to fight you on it and fill your head with facts about his instrument of choice. But it’s almost like he already knows you and how stubborn you are. He could tell you anything he wants, but you’ll die on the hill you’ve decided to climb just to piss him off more.

“They’d sound like shit if it wasn’t for me.” he mumbles before taking another drink. “The bass is the most important part, you’re clueless. It’s like you’ve never listened to music in your life.”

“Clueless?” you repeat. “Besides, you’ve got a pretty face. I’m sure if your attitude wasn’t so rotten and you were the lead singer you’d be drowning in pussy.”

“I do alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You squint your eyes sceptically. There’s no doubt that he has the potential to pull a girl or two. And, admittedly, you’ve had one very hostile conversation with him. But you can tell from his sulky demeanour that any woman he has a chance with is likely scared off by his attitude.

He tries to ignore you for the remainder of his drink.

God, he tries.

But he’s overwhelmed by the desire to put you in your place.

“I—”

“There’s no way you’re getting girls.” you interrupt him immediately. “Like, no way. Maybe one or two, but you’re not doing better than the lead. He’s gorgeous and he’s the face of the band.”

His smile is wicked as he holds his near empty glass, swilling the golden liquid around the bottom before he puts it down on a coaster. “You really don’t get it, do you?” you’re a little taken aback as he bites his lip whilst looking at you from the corner of his eye.

His expression makes your heart beat a little faster. You find yourself shuffling in your seat as you see just how strikingly handsome he really is when he’s trying. And then it hits you, he’s trying. He’s showing you what he’s capable of and you’re falling for it. Even with the knowledge, it’s too late. All you can think about his that sharp jawline and striking stare.

“You know what they say about bass players.” he says quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. His barstool spins so he’s facing you. You take a sharp inhale as he slowly leans in towards you, the smell of beer on his pretty lips makes you heady and excited, waiting with bated breath for him to continue. “They’re good with their fingers.”

You can’t stifle a laugh as he pulls away, giggling like your cousin had been moments prior whilst flirting with the guitarist. It’s embarrassing, letting him see you reduced to this after trying to irritate him. You clear your throat and try to gain your composure.

“You’re disgusting.” you respond.

“Mmm, you want to find out though, so,” he shrugs, finishing the last dregs of his drink. “I’ll wait by the entrance for ten minutes, if you don’t come find me, I’ll leave without you.” he walks away without even looking at you.

You don’t get a chance to say a word before he seamlessly weaves through the crowd and out of sight. Without thinking, you’re already on your feet and checking the time.

Ten minutes.

You rush through the bar to find Ada, tapping on her shoulder to pull her attention away from Zantetsu. “I’m leaving. Seal the deal, please.” you wink. She nods, laughing as you kiss her cheek and rush towards the entrance.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw his face light up when he realised you were actually going to take him up on his offer. He plays it off, though, trying to appear cooler and more aloof as you approach him.

“It’s barely been two minutes.” he tells you.

“I’m not gonna let you hear the end of it if you’re all talk.” you smirk.

The minute he gets you inside of his apartment, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Your lips are on his in an instant, your breath stolen as he lifts you from the ground and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carries you into the kitchen.

He helps you out of the vest top you’re wearing when he sits you down on the counter so you’re down to your jeans and bra. You tilt your head as he peppers your neck in a combination of soft and sloppy kisses.

Your heels fall off without effort as you instinctively open your legs, rolling your hip against his clothed abs.

“My roommate is out,” he tells you quietly, still kissing you all over. You moan softly as he starts leaving soft bite marks across your skin. “He’s such a clean freak, he’d lose it if he knew—”

“It’s okay,” you giggle, you cup his face and direct him to kiss you again. “Help me get my jeans off.”

He wastes no time unbuttoning them and yanking down the zipper. He keeps his eyes on yours as he helps you shimmy out of the wide-legged jeans, smiling at you as you both hear them crumple on the ground.

“Gonna show me what a stud you are?” you ask, spreading your legs to reveal your dark, lewd panties. There’s a glint of amusement in his eye, which soon turns into a toothy grin as he runs his finger along the damp slit. “Fuck,”

“You’re soaking for me already, good girl.” he tells you. He begins to rub your clit over the lace covering your flesh, and you’re immediately putty in his hands. Your legs quiver slightly, and you rush to close them, but he pries them apart before leaning in to kiss you. “Keep them open for me.” he demands before slipping his tongue between your lips.

“Haah.. haaaah~!” you whimper, his featherlight ministrations seeming like magic as he continues to tease your clit.

“Fuck,” he grunts, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties before he begins to tug. “Off. Get them off.” he demands, ordering you to wiggle on the counter until he manages to peel them from your cunt and slip them down your legs. He distracts you with a kiss as he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as he resumes circling your now bare clit. Your face is picturesque, he thinks, as your eyes become heavy and your pants are more uncontrollable.

“Are you faking this to piss me off?” he wonders. You shake your head slowly. “You’re so sensitive…”

“S-Shut up,” you bite your lip before giggling. “Haven’t gotten any in a while.”

“Well we can’t have that. Better make up for lost time.” he grins, fingers traversing from your throbbing clit to your entrance. His jaw hangs low, moaning in faux sympathy as he starts to stretch you immediately with two fingers. “You’re so tight baby, takin’ me so well.” he tells you.

He doesn’t wait for a response before his head sinks to nestle in the crook of your neck as he assaults your skin with a cacophony moans and sucks, decorating your flesh with his name in a purple and blue masterpiece.

Your cunt squelches as he presses his fingers deeper and deeper into your gooey interior, eagerly searching for your sweet spot and hellbent on targeting it. He hears you squeak, body almost falling limp with a particularly delicious curling of his fingers. You feel his smug expression against your pulse point, but instead of mocking you, his canines gently graze against it.

“She’s so loud for me, baby. Your sloppy little pussy loves me.” he breathes. You throw your head back as he continues to delve deeper and deeper until you can no longer fight off the urge to scream his name.

“FUCK, Rin!” you cry. “There! R-Right there!”

“There, princess?” he asks, though it’s rhetorical. He already knows what you want and what he needs to do. You’re happy you goaded him. But he’s happier to know he’s proving you wrong. “You’re squeezing so tight… won’t be able to play with your pussy or my bass if you break my fingers.”

“Sto- stop. Goddddd Rin I’m gonna c-um. Gonna cum!” you warn him, as if he didn’t already know. You wrap your arms around his neck in a needy display that makes you sick, but you don’t care enough to stop. He doesn’t mind, either. Making out with you passionately, swapping spit as drool dribbles and pools from each of your mouths. His lips remain connected to yours by a single string of spit as you break away to moan through your high.

He swallows them, though. Transfixed by the feeling and pride that you’re offering your prettiest sounds for him to devour while your legs quiver violently on either side of his hand.

You throw your head back as your pussy begins to squirt and douse his fingers. He doesn’t even flinch, immediately using his free hand to swipe across your clit to extend your pleasure and further the mess spurting from the apex of your thighs.

“She really likes me, baby.” he smirks at you, an expression so smarmy you’d punch him if he hadn’t made you feel so good. “You came so fast for me.”

“You’re welcome.” you giggle, leaning forward to kiss him. “I got what I came for so I’m gonna leave now.” you tell him as you pretend to free yourself of his hold. He shakes his head, lower lip tugged by his teeth as he tries to supress a smile.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Nowhere near through with you yet.”

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut #bllk x fem!reader

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

Oooooh I have an idea !!!!!! Fuckboy Bucky falling in love with you ! He’s begging you for a chance , one which you deny continuously knowing his reputation. He sends you the fluffiest texts , pictures of things that remind him of you but you won’t budge ! And one night , you’re drunk while all of you are out ! He keeps you close all night and then he takes you home ! He’s a gentleman . So you’re more than surprised to find him sleeping on your couch the next morning !! He greets you with a smile and then you thank him , give him a small peck and finally grant him that date he’s been begging for months for

college fuckboy buck x f reader

OOOH I love Fuckboy bucky, his name is Bunky btws. Bucket is the cheater, Bunky is a fuckboy but he can be redeemed so we all still love him. "Come onnn y/n" Bucky groaned, having asked you out for the 4th time this year. "Please? Just give me a chance, one date, please?"

You rolled your eyes while he leaned against your car, having trailed behind you after your class finished.

"Please?" He gave you his best puppy eyes, his bottom lip jutting out into an almost convincing pout but you willed yourself to ignore how adorable he looked. No. It wasn't worth getting your heart broken.

"No thank you Barnes, I don't want to join your roster"

You got into your car, shutting the door without waiting for him to respond, mostly because you were worried you'd break and agree to going on a date. Bucky sighed, watching you pull out of the parking lot without looking back; he really did like you. A lot. He wasn't great with emotions, he bottled up his feelings and deflected his emotions. He distracted himself with girl after girl but you were never just a distraction. You were different to him. You were really sweet. You helped him with his papers. You helped him take notes in class. He didn't intend on falling in love with you but here he was now, begging and pleading and chasing, hoping one day you'd say yes.

*****

You heard your phone ping, opening your lock screen to see a text message from Bucky.

"Thank you for the study notes, you really are a sweet heart"

You shook your head, snorting to yourself, he was probably copying and pasting the same text message to the other four girls he spoke to in class. It was bad enough you actually found him cute; he was well aware of how charming he was. You truthfully hated it. He was attractive, sweet, tall and the biggest fuckboy you knew. He didn't do relationships. Your phone pinged again to yet another message. It was a picture of a little golden lab sitting in his lap, the both of them having nearly identical facial expressions. Large twinkling eyes, an innocent but not so innocent face, fluffy hair (and fur).

"Saw this puppy, thought you'd like it"

"Guess which puppy I was referring to"

"Get it? Because were both adorable?"

You bit back a smile, immediately frowning afterwards. No. You would not be going down that rabbit hole with him. You only gave him your number so you could arrange study meets but Bucky took advantage of it, sending sweet messages and pictures of things that reminded him of you.

"My ma found my teddy bear from when I was little, reminded me of the one you have on your lockscreen" (Picture of a fluffy brown bear with the words Baby JBB embroidered on the front)

"Remember when we got coffee after studying late at the library?" (picture of a coffee cup and heart sugar cookie)

"It's sweet like you" (picture of a mini cupcake)

You sighed, scolding yourself every time your heart fluttered. No. It didn't matter how much he tried. You wouldn't give in. You wouldn't budge.

*****

Your body felt heavy and light at the same time, just a couple of drinks in. More than a couple. Many. You could feel the bass of the music thump through your whole body, swaying freely on the club dancefloor, seeing a familiar face in the crowd off to the side.

"Y/n?"

"Buckkyyyy" You slurred out, giggling while you stumbled towards, falling into his arms. He caught you with ease, holding you close to him, his heart racing because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable being so close to him. You bounced on your heels, still swaying to the music while still in his hold, completely in your own world.

"Careful doll, are you okay?" He chuckled while you gave him a hazy smile, your eyes glazed over, letting out a tiny yawn. Your face heated up hearing him call you doll, you hated how much it made you feel giddy on the inside.

"Yessssss" You nodded your head, your eyes closed because you were starting to feel tired. "M'not drunkkk"

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm, very sure Buck" You mumbled, burying your face into his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and something that was distinctly him. Like warmth...home...your heart...no. Nope. You tried to pull away but your body betrayed you, snuggling further into him as he held you.

“Think you might be lying y/n” Bucky snickered leading you to sit in a quieter lounge area of the club. You didn’t hesitate to crawl into his lap, throwing your arms around his shoulder with your face nuzzled into his neck. You squirmed until you felt comfy, sighing contently when you felt his arms around you again.

You pulled away from him suddenly, cupping his face to make him look at you; you looked at him with wide eyes as if you just realized something. Bucky watched you curiously, his heart braking because your adorable drunk antics were only making him fall for you more. He only wanted one chance.

“I think I like Bucky” You whispered while squeezing his cheeks together, making his lips pout. “I have a crush on him”

Bucky bit back a smirk, his cheeks blushing while you continued to look at him with owlish eyes, waiting for his response.

“Really? You think so?”

You nodded vigorously, slapping your hand over his mouth before he could say anything more.

"Shhhh don't tell anyone, its a secret" You continued to whisper, your hand trailing down to his chest to play with his chain. Bucky couldn’t tell what was worse; how sweet you were when you were like this, the fact that you just openly said you liked him and the fact that he had no chance with you. Even if your drunken ramblings were saying one thing, he didn’t want to keep pressuring you.

“M’sleepy” You stretched on him like a cat before snuggling into him again. Bucky smiled softly, carefully lifting you in his arms, getting into a cab to take you home.

“Do you have the keys doll?” Bucky gently nudged you while you clung onto him outside of your door, mumbling something about them being in your purse. Bucky fished them out, opening the door and carrying you in, kicking his shoes off before taking you to your room. You sighed happily feeling your soft bedsheets about to fall asleep again but Bucky wasn’t having it. He knew you wouldn’t want to just fall asleep with your makeup and dress on. He cleared a bit of space on your sink counter before coming to get you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” He carried you to the bathroom, setting you on the counter. He grabbed some of your makeup wipes, removing your makeup and lashes while you kicked your feet, looking at him with heart eyes. His touch was warm and gentle, grabbing a bit of moisturizer to finish off. He massaged your skin, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his heart beating out of his chest because he so badly wanted to lean in and kiss you.

“I brought you your sleepshirt bubs, I’ll be right outside the bathroom okay? Get changed and we’ll get you to bed”

You nodded, clumsily trying to unzip your dress but to no avail.

“Buckyyyyyy” Bucky poked his head into the bathroom, chuckling at your pouty face.

“What is it doll?”

“Take it off”

Bucky stared at you with wide eyes, had this been any other situation you wouldn’t have had to tell him twice. He held the strap of your dress up while unzipping it for you, making sure it stayed up before leaving the bathroom. You some how managed to get changed, leaning against the doorway for support while Bucky waited. He lifted you in his arms and helped you under the sheets before tucking you into bed. He grabbed a glass of water and some pain medication to keep by your bedside table while you started to fall asleep.

“Good night y/n”

“Good night baby” You smiled in your sleep, softly snoring within seconds. Baby. He knew he was head over heels in love with you. Bucky made his way to your living room, crashing on your couch for the night incase you needed anything in the middle of the night. He checked on you twice to make sure you were okay, blushing each time he saw your adorable curled up form. He would have given anything to be able to cuddle up with you and hold you close to him.

******

You rubbed your eyes, still feeling a little disoriented. You were home. How did that happen? You remembered dancing....and then...

You crawled out of bed, surprised to find a glass of water and pain meds on your bedside. Who put them there? You were grateful anyway, quickly downing all the water and taking one of the tablets. You made your way to the kitchen, gasping when you saw Bucky scrolling through his phone, sprawled on your couch.

“Bucky?”

“Good morning doll” He smiled up at you, his eyes still tired from checking up on you throughout the night.

“You brought me home?” He nodded while you hesitantly came and sat beside him, nervously biting on your lip. “You stayed here?” Some of the memories of last night flooding back. His soft hands on your face. Carrying you into bed. Tucking you in. You heard the door creak each time he checked on you.

While your heart melted, Bucky’s heart raced, fearing you thought the worst. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he took advantage of you. He scrambled to sit up properly, his puppy eyes wide.

“I promise nothing happened doll, you were tired so I called us a cab and brought you home. I helped you get ready for bed but I didn’t see anything, I just tucked you into bed and-

You lips pressed against his, cutting off his rambling,

“Thank you. Now about that date you’ve been asking for.....”

5 years later

Bucky spun you around, pulling you towards him, his hands holding your waist close to him. Every time you thought he couldn’t get more handsome, he’d some how one up your expectations. Tonight he was in a dark suit, his beard trimmed,

“Y’know, you admitted you had a crush on me that day” He whispered, a cocky little smirk playing on his lips.

“When” You narrowed your eyes while he chuckled, swaying with you on the dancefloor.

“The day you fell in love with me” He stated matter of factly, while you shook your head, your skin heating up. The affect he had on you never went away.

“Who said I fell in love with you Barnes. All I did was agree to go out on a date with you”

“And what else did you agree to” He wiggled his eyebrows, pecking a kiss onto your nose.

“I didn’t agree to anything else” You shrugged, giggling when he dipped you, nipping your jaw, earning a bunch of whoops and whistles from the crowd.

“Well you already said I do today, Mrs. Barnes”

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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 1 year

Text

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

#in this universe eddie munson co-wrote tolerate it #i know what song they wrote together but I’m keeping it to myself lol #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 8 months

Note

Maybe something angsty with an insecure fem!reader who gets jealous over girls flirting with ethan— or it could be the other way around with a jealous Ethan. Whichever you prefer! The angst then leads to smut, maybe somewhat possessive sex with some dirty talk? Thank you!

I hope you like it! :)

Bite Me - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: A girl flirting with Ethan leads to an explosive interaction, but he's going to show you why you're the only one he wants.

A/N: This was so much fun to write. I love a good angsty moment. Maybe because I, myself am angsty as fuck.

You were out on a date with Ethan at your favorite restaurant. You’re celebrating your 1 year anniversary, and it’s been the best year. You’ve experienced so much with him and can’t wait to see where it goes.

As you sat at the table, deep in conversation about one of your classes, a girl walked up to your table.

“Hey, Ethan!” she slurred, you noticed that she’s obviously been drinking.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, as she leaned her elbows on the table.

“I heard you’re the best for tutoring, so I was hoping we could have some private sessions,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Uh, if you want me to tutor you, we could meet in the library,” he suggested, as you felt anger build up inside you.

“That’s perfect, I’ll message you on Instagram to see when works for you,” she said, as she looked over her shoulder at you.

“Oh, are you his girlfriend?” she asked, her breath smelling heavily of vodka.

“Yep, sure am,” you said through gritted teeth.

“That’s too bad,” she said, before directing her attention to your boyfriend. “Bye Ethan.”

When she walked away, his smile faded when he saw the look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused.

“What’s wrong? You just said you were going to tutor some girl that obviously wants to fuck you,” you said. At this point, you were seething. “I think I’m ready to go.”

You stood up from the table and walked out before Ethan was able to say anything. You were able to cool down for a minute as you waited for him to pay. When he walked out, he had a napkin in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, the girl that wants me to tutor her gave me her number,” he said, as you both got in the car.

“Why the fuck didn’t you throw it away?” you asked, the anger building back up.

“I will, I wasn’t trying to be rude,” he said, as he focused on driving.

“You weren’t trying to be rude to her after she was disrespectful to our relationship. Nice,” you snapped.

“I tutor several people, babe, you know that. And she was drunk, she probably wasn’t trying to come off like that,” he said, and this is the one time that his innocence was really pissing you off.

“You are so oblivious. Do the other girls that you tutor act like that?” you asked, ready to get out of the car.

“No, babe, I don’t…wait, what are you saying? You think I’m cheating on you or something?” he asked, and you started to tear up.

“I’m not saying that. I just think it’s fucked up that you want to spend alone time with anyone that acts like that,” you said, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“The library isn’t a place to be alone. What about that don’t you understand?” he asked, anger evident in his voice.

“What you need to understand is that when we get back to your apartment, I’m getting in my car and going home. Fuck this whole anniversary thing,” you said lowly.

The rest of the ride back to Ethan’s was silent, no music, no talking, nothing. Once he pulled into the parking spot, you got out of the car and walked over to yours.

“Fuck, I need my phone charger that’s here. Mines broken,” you said, speaking for the first time in twenty minutes.

“Okay,” was all he could say as you followed him inside.

Once he unlocked the door, you saw rose petals all over the floor. Your heart started to melt a little.

“Ethan, did you do this for me?” you asked, looking around at the candles.

“Yeah, Chad came over and lit the candles when I told him we were leaving the restaurant. Kinda dumb now, huh?” he asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

“Why is it dumb?” you asked, looking over his stone-cold expression.

“Were you in the same car as me? Do you remember saying ‘Fuck this anniversary’?” he snapped.

“Ethan, do you not understand why I was hurt at that restaurant?” you asked, a crack in your voice as you tried to hold back your tears.

“Yeah, you have issues with another girl talking to me,” he said.

“I was upset that you didn’t tell her no when she had other intentions. I’m upset that any girl thinks she’s going to fuck you aside from me,” you said, as he walked towards you.

He didn’t say anything as he grabbed your hand and took you to his room. The room was dimly lit with candles on the floor. It made you so sad that the night was ruined, because this was the most romantic and sweet thing anyone had ever done for you.

As he stood in front of you, you saw a little anger in his dark eyes, but you also saw a lot of love.

“Do you think I’d want to be with anyone that isn’t you?” he asked, the tension still thick in the air.

“No,” you whispered.

He stepped forward, holding your face in his hands as he kissed you, hard. He reached around and grabbed your ass, making you moan into the kiss.

“I’m going to show you why you have nothing to worry about,” he said, pushing you onto his bed.

He hovered over you, kissing you with the same intensity as before. His hand squeezed your hip as he started to kiss down your neck. You felt his teeth graze your skin, whimpers slipping past your lips. He pulled away from you long enough to slip your shirt over your head. He noticed that you had his favorite bra on, and smirked to himself as he kissed a line down the center of your chest and stomach. He slid your leggings off, noticing that the panties you were wearing matched the bra. He almost didn’t want to take them off you.

“You were looking forward to me fucking you tonight, huh?” he asked, massaging the flesh of your thighs. You moaned in response, the feeling of his hands on you making your core throb.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he said, his eyes boring into your needy ones.

“Yes,” you said, as he slid your panties down your legs.

He ran his fingers over the newly exposed area, alternating between rubbing your clit and dipping a finger inside of you.

“You think I’d really want to fuck someone else when you have a pussy this perfect?” he asked, his words making you whine.

He continued to tease you, watching your face with a smirk.

“Please baby, I need you,” you said.

“You want me to eat your pussy, baby?” he asked, and you nodded.

He leaned forward, lapping at your dripping core. You moaned out as your legs spread further apart, him kneading your flesh while his eyes connected with yours.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he said as he pulled away to take a breath.

He wrapped his mouth around your clit, gently sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god,” you cried out, his tongue rolling against you as he sucked.

He slipped two fingers inside of you, moving them against that special spot inside of you at a fast pace.

“Fuck, your gonna make me cum, baby.” He watched your face as you started to hit your peak, only breaking the eye contact when your body started to jolt. He kept up his pace, before slowing down once your walls stopped fluttering around his fingers.

Once you came down from your high, you slid off the bed, crouching on your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’m going to show you exactly why you shouldn’t be studying with girls like the one from tonight,” you said, mocking his comment from earlier.

You pulled his hard cock out of his boxers, placing gentle licks to his tip. You licked a stripe underneath his erection, from base to tip, before sucking him in your mouth. He gasped as he reached his hand down, tangling it in your hair. He started to thrust his hips forward a little, making you gag around him. He kept going, until he was as far in your mouth as you could take him. He looked down at you to see the tears streaming down your face.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” he said, the grip on your hair getting tighter. “Your mouth is amazing.”

It didn’t take long before the combination of the both of your actions had him approaching his orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum. Where do you want it?” he asked, but you just kept sucking. He released in your mouth as you swallowed. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You got another one for me, baby?” you asked, standing up and placing kisses along his neck. You reached down to stroke his sensitive cock that was already starting to get hard again.

“You keep talking like that, you’ll struggle to walk when I’m done with you,” he said lowly.

“You promise?”

He pushed you back on the bed for the second time of the night, grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge. He placed your legs on his shoulders as he gently pushed into you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned out at the feeling of him stretching you out.

He started to move his hips, like he was trying to release a little bit of the frustration from your conversation earlier in the night. He pounded into you, staring down to watch his cock go in and out of your pussy.

“I’m yours, baby. Always yours,” he said, circling his fingers against your clit.

He leaned forward with your legs still on his shoulders, making it easy for him to hit that special spot inside of you with every thrust. Your legs started to shake and your vision went blurry as you orgasm quickly crept up.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked rubbing your clit faster.

You couldn’t form words as you babbled, completely cock-drunk.

When you tightened around him, he whimpered.

He pulled out and released his cum, shooting it on your thighs and your stomach.

“Fuck, that was a close one,” he joked, almost not pulling out in time. You waited for him to catch his breath, before he grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off you.

You tried to stand up to grab your panties, but your legs started to wobble, feeling like Jell-O. You fell back on the bed, as he laughed a little.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk,” he said, tossing your panties at you.

#scream smut #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader

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daisynik7 · 11 months

Note

Hi are you still doing song requests? If so can you do Make You Feel My Love by Adele for Toji? 🥹 please and thank you ☺️

Make You Feel My Love

Part Two to Photograph

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

cw: fluff, explicit language, basically all fluff lol

Summary: Toji Fushiguro is nothing like his previous self. He’s become hardened, almost completely desensitized through the years, being used and abused by his own family, the Zenin clan. After the loss of his first wife, Toji takes his son and decides to finally run away to the only place where he can feel like his true self again: home. There, he reunites with a familiar face.

Author’s Notes: Thank you for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I thought it’d be perfect as a continuation to this story. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. Divider credits to @/cafekitsune.

“Zenin?”

Your voice is soft, almost breathless, when you utter his name as he stands between the door frame of your classroom, hands in his pockets, a shy expression on his face. “Uh, yeah. It’s me. I go by Fushiguro now.”

You look between him and Megumi, spotting the similarities instantly. The jet-black hair, the same-colored eyes, almost identical facial structure. A spitting image of his father, who stands before you, much bigger than when you last saw him, but certainly the same boy who’s grown into a man. There isn’t time to catch up as your students file in, greeting their new classmate politely at his desk. Toji clears his throat, stepping aside to make room for the kids to walk in. “I’ll be back later to pick up the kid, if you want to catch up.”

The kid. You hide your giggles, pleased to hear that he still sounds like the same Toji you knew many years ago. His eyes light up at your laughter; he doesn’t remember the last time he heard a genuine one like yours. Sweet, pure, and music to his ears.

The bell rings, and that’s his cue to leave. There isn’t much to do throughout the day, considering he is now unemployed. He’s tempted to resort to old habits and head to the racetrack to gamble on horses, but instead, he goes to the public library to use a computer, searching for job openings around the area. The day passes quickly and it’s time for him to pick up Megumi. He waits outside, watching as all the other children run towards their parents, most of whom eye him with wary expressions. He’s gotten used to lingering glances like this, aware of his intimidating presence. It doesn’t bother him anymore; he’s used to being seen as some sort of monster. And with what he’s done during his life as a Zenin, maybe he is.

Megumi is the last outside, hand-in-hand with you, his teacher. You both give him a wave, your eyes twinkling with kindness and a bright smile. You’re the only one who looks at Toji like this. The only one who sees him as human. When you approach him, he places his hand on Megumi’s head, ruffling his hair. “How was it?”

His son grins, giving his father a thumbs up.

“You made some new friends, right Megumi?” you say, squeezing his hand. “What are their names?”

In his squeaky voice, he replies, “Yuji and Nobara.”

Toji smirks. “Friends already? That’s great, bud. I knew you’d like it here.”

Megumi lets go of you, holding onto his dad’s wrist. “Yuji said he’s getting ice cream down the street with his grandpa. Can we go too?”

“Of course,” Toji responds. He looks to you, tipping his head to the side. “Want to join us?”

~~~

You’re sitting in a booth across from the Fushiguros, who share the biggest chocolate fudge sundae they could order off the menu. Eventually, Megumi spots his new pink-haired friend and asks if they can play at the mini arcade together in the back of the shop, to which Toji agrees, passing him money. Now, you’re alone with him, hundreds of questions you want to ask, but are too nervous to. You sip on your milkshake, unsure where to begin.

Fortunately, he speaks first. “Did you stay in Tokyo this entire time?”

You shake your head. “I went to university overseas, then I moved back.”

“Overseas, huh? Sounds fun,” he muses, scooping a big bite into his mouth.

“How about you? Where did you go?” The last memory you have of him is the distraught look on his face, after you shared a kiss together. The next day, he was gone.

He licks the back of his spoon, collecting all the chocolate off. “Here and there. But mostly there.”

“You were still in Tokyo?” You try not to sound outraged. Deep down, you’re hurt by the way the two of you parted. And if he was truly here all along, you’re even more upset, knowing he had all this time to apologize. Years and years, you wondered if all the little moments you shared together were just that, or something more. Even now, finally meeting him in the flesh, you’re uncertain where you stand with him.

He senses your uneasiness, sitting up straight to explain. “The Zenins relocated to a more remote location up in the mountains in order to carry out their dirty deeds. I dropped out of school and started working full time as their lackey. I was often sent to Tokyo for duties.” He spreads his fingers, presenting his hands towards you, calloused and scarred from overwork and guilt. “I’ve done things that I am not proud of. Hurt people that didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want to do it, but at the time, I had no other choice.”

You listen to him intently, sipping on your milkshake slowly, giving him your undivided attention as he continues his story.

“Me and Megumi’s mom had an arranged marriage. The Zenins wanted me to produce an heir once my father’s health started to decline. She was a kind woman, the closest thing I had to an escape. But still, the both of us were trapped. It didn’t matter that we had each other; we were both under the wills of our families.”

“After a few months of trying, she got pregnant. Our lives felt normal during this time. Like we were a regular family. Me, her, Megumi in her belly. My father left us alone. He wanted to make sure I was taking good care of her so that our son would come out strong and healthy. And he did. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Toji takes a deep breath, the both of you anticipating this next part. “It was a home birth, per my father’s request. I should have said something from the start, but I didn’t think anything would go wrong. After Megumi was delivered, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.” He swallows hard, throat tight with emotion. “And by the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.”

He avoids your gaze, staring hard at the metal container filled with napkins on the side of the table. You’re tempted to reach for his hand, to offer comfort, but you decide against it, deeming it inappropriate.

“My family couldn’t care less. All that mattered to them is that they had their new heir. They didn’t even cry when she passed away.” His jaw is clenched tight, hands in fists, trembling against the table’s surface. “Heartless bastards, all of them. I should have left with Megumi then, but I didn’t. I was a fucking coward, too scared to face the world alone. And with a little baby at that.”

“Why did you decide to finally leave?” you ask.

“They were going to start training Megumi how to fight. He’s only five-years-old, for fuck’s sake. He’s the gentlest, sweetest kid, and they want him to become like me. I didn’t want that. I don’t want Megumi to have the life I did, not if I can help it.” He unclenches his fists, relaxing into his seat, spooning whatever melted ice cream remains into his mouth.

You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Why did you decide to come back here?”

He doesn’t respond right away, pretending to be preoccupied with the swirly mess of sweet cream in front of him. He contemplates how best to explain himself. If he admits the truth, it may come off too strong. The reason he’s returned home is because of you. The photo of you and him smiling on the beach a decade ago is in his pocket, wrinkled and faded from years of yearning. He had dreamt of this day ever since he left, hoping the next time you reunite, he’ll be free of the Zenin name. Free to do as he pleases, free to love who he wants. And now that day has come, he’s just as nervous as he expected he'd be.

Not wanting to make a fool of himself, he says, “I know this area well. Figured it’d be a good place for us to start fresh.”

You smile at him. “If you and Megumi ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”

“Megumi is a good kid. Quiet, but good. He doesn’t give me any trouble, so he makes it easy.”

“So nothing like his father, then?” you tease, raising a brow at him.

He chuckles. “Like I said, I’ll make sure of that.”

You reach for him, resting your hand on top of his. “You’re not all bad. You’re pretty great, remember?”

Instantly, you’re taken back ten years ago, moments before that kiss. Electricity sparks between you; his hand shifts beneath yours, his palm turned up now, fingertips brushing lightly against the delicate skin of your wrist. He gazes at you, smiling. The prominent scar across his lips more titillating than it’s ever been before. “Yeah, I remember.”

Before either of you can do anything more, Megumi returns to the table, head drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He grabs the water cup on the table, chugging it aggressively, wiping his mouth with the hem of his t-shirt, fresh from a rousing game of Dance Dance Revolution against his new best friend.

~~~

Toji picks up Megumi every single day after school. He’s adamant about it, claiming it’s important for him to spend as much time with his son as possible, something he never experienced growing up. He accepts a job in construction, working early morning shifts in order to be outside the school steps promptly.

A few nights a week, he invites you to their apartment for dinner, where you help him cook simple recipes like fried rice or noodles, even little treats like rice balls for Megumi’s school snack. This Thursday night, you stay until bedtime, watching from the doorway as Toji tucks in his son, a small grin on his face, studying the way his eyelashes flutter into a deep slumber. Sound asleep, he sneaks out, closing the door quietly.

You check the time on your phone, disappointed that it’s getting late. “I should head home.”

He walks you to the exit. “Megumi is going to Yuji’s house for a sleepover tomorrow night.”

So far, Toji has kept his distance from you, though you’ve notice subtle glances here and there. You haven’t exactly been forward yourself, too nervous to make the first move or misunderstand what could be friendship and nothing more. Toji feels the same way, unsure if his feelings are reciprocated or if you’re simply this nice of a person. Hopefully, it’s both.

Your heart beats faster, not sure what you’re supposed to do with this information, waiting for him to elaborate. He clears his throat. “I want to take you out to dinner, to thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, smiling.

The following night, he arrives at your house, dressed in a flattering button-up and slacks, greeting your parents formally for the first time in over a decade. They remember him fondly, excited to see him all grown-up. He takes you to a restaurant downtown, ordering the most popular items on the menu to share between you, enjoying each other’s company as you always do. After dessert, he invites you to his house for a nightcap, and you’re a little too keen when you agree. While you wait for the water to boil in the tea kettle, you sit beside him on the couch, looking through pictures of him and Megumi on his phone.

“We went to the beach the first weekend we moved in,” he says, showing a selfie of the two of them sitting on the sand.

You nudge him in the arm with your elbow. “Remember that school project?”

He grins, leaning into you. “How could I forget?” He glances at your lips, then into your eyes, inching even closer. You gravitate towards him, holding your breath, ready to kiss. Then, the tea kettle whistles, ruining the moment.

Chuckling, he stands up to remove it from the stove. You sit back into the couch, sighing, body tingling and flustered. He returns shortly with a hot mug of tea in his hands, setting it on the coffee table. “You should let it cool. It’s too hot right now.” He sinks into the cushion beside you, knee brushing yours.

“Did you like me back? When we first kissed?” It’s one of the many questions still unanswered, and you decide that now is the best time to find out the truth.

He smiles, grasping your hand gently. “Yes.”

You lock your fingers with his, filling in the spaces seamlessly. “Then why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t think it’d be safe for you to be associated with me. Not while I was still a Zenin.” He pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, noses nearly touching now.

“And where’s the picture of us?” you whisper, nuzzling your nose to his, wanting so badly to close the distance.

“I took it. I’ve had it this whole time,” he admits, brushing his lips to yours. You kiss him fully, his grip around your waist, no signs of letting you go anytime soon. You make love to each other right there on his couch, your hot tea forgotten on the coffee table, cold by the time you remember it the next morning.

For the first time in his life, Toji doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like a monster or a threat. As he marvels at your peaceful form cradled delicately in his arms, Toji Fushiguro feels normal. He feels loved.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fluff #toji fic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year

Text

Life’s A Beach | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

This is the second installment of my single dad Bradley miniseries | part one | library blog

Summary: A few weeks have passed since meeting Bradley and Caroline, and what better way to spend time with the adorable father-daughter duo again than a day at the beach?

WC: 6K

Warnings: all of my works are 18+ minors DNI, shirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradley, reader wears a bikini but there are no descriptions of body size/shape, mentions of food/eating, mutual pining, like one tiny mention of smut towards the end if you squint, I don’t really think there’s much else this is literally just straight up fluff, dilf Bradley just being the absolute sweetest, this part is much longer than the first bc I already had it written and then couldn’t help myself from adding almost 3k words while editing oops, once again I suck at titles and summaries :)

a/n: the header for this chapter was my first attempt at making a mood board, I hope y’all like it :) I love Dadley Dadshaw™️ and little Caroline so much, I couldn’t stop smiling while writing this chapter of pure fluff! If you enjoy it, please comment/reblog feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading! <3

•

You’re checking yourself in the mirror for probably the twentieth time when your phone buzzes with a text alerting you that Bradley is outside. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time this morning trying on countless swimsuits in an attempt to find the perfect one.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and with Bradley having the day off, and Caroline done with school for the weekend, he’d invited you to join them for a day at the beach. Since meeting them at the mall a few weeks ago when you’d helped reunite the father-daughter duo after the little girl had gotten lost, you’d maintained pretty regular communication.

The two of you had been texting almost daily, chatting about your days and getting to know each other a little better, and you were delighted to find out that Bradley did not, in fact, have a wife. He’d send you silly pictures of him and Caroline that never failed to make you smile even after a shitty day, and left you wondering how someone could still be so attractive while making the stupidest faces.

He told you a bit about his job — as not just a pilot like his daughter had told you when you met, but a fighter pilot, a naval aviator — and you told him about yours. You talked about your respective hobbies, favorite movies and your tastes in music among other things. Anything and everything that had come to mind, really.

Talking to Bradley was always easy. And there was definitely a bit of flirting. Okay, maybe a lot of flirting.

You’d also talk to Caroline too. She and Bradley had FaceTimed you a few times over the weeks and she’d update you all about how she was enjoying preschool so far, telling you that her daddy cried when he dropped her off on her first day — though, Bradley insists that he didn't — and about the new friends she’s made, before always asking when she’d get to see you again. You’d promised her, soon.

You’ve been pretty swamped with work, but you’re excited — if not a little anxious — to see them again. Though you hadn’t gotten another chance to see Bradley in person since that first day at the mall, your crush on him had grown exponentially. He was funny, charming, an amazing father to the sweetest little girl, and not to mention incredibly good looking.

Even through an iPhone camera, Bradley always looked so effortlessly gorgeous, his boyish smile and pretty eyes never failing to give you butterflies. You’d have to actively try not to swoon all the times he’d called you ‘sweetheart’ or said you looked pretty over FaceTime.

You could tell the mustached man liked you too, if his shameless flirting was anything to go by. He was too charming for his own good and he never seemed to fail to paint a blush on your cheeks. So, you want to make sure you look good when you join him and his daughter at the beach today.

You’d settled on a black bikini, the longline triangle top big enough to cover you up with enough cleavage to still be sexy, and the bottoms a little high waisted, the side strings pulled up high on your hips to accentuate your curves. You’d let your hair fall loose and flowing, and put on a light dusting of makeup.

After receiving Bradley’s text, you quickly throw on a matching black cover-up that ties at the front, your favorite pair of shorts and some flip flops, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Bradley’s waiting for you, leaned up against the side of his classic blue Bronco in a white and baby blue floral Hawaiian shirt — which you’ve learned over the last few weeks that he seems to own quite an array of, a pair of dark gray swim trunks that show off his muscular calves, and a pair of aviators shielding his eyes from the early afternoon sun.

His tanned features only seem to glow in the bright light of the sun, and as you watch Bradley’s face light up with a grin when he sees you, sandy curls blowing in the slight breeze, you have to clench your teeth to keep your jaw from dropping. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

Bradley pulls you into a hug as soon as you reach him, and you happily wrap your arms around him. Inhaling his delicious scent and relishing in his warmth as you tell him that you’re doing good, before asking how he’s been too.

“I’ve been good, thanks. You look beautiful.” Bradley compliments you with a growing smirk once he releases you. You’re going to have to get used to the blush that seems to permanently reside over your cheeks whenever you are in his presence.

“You look– good too…” You trail off shyly, lips lifting into a sheepish grin as you push back some strands of hair that had blown in your face from the breeze, looking down at your sandal-clad feet.

Flirting with Bradley was much easier over text. You’re just thankful that his eyes are currently covered by his sunglasses, unsure if you’d be able to handle his deep, honeyed gaze on you right now without your knees buckling.

Bradley chuckles at your shyness, he loves how easily he can make you flush.

“Come on, I know someone is very excited to see you.” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back and leads you to the passenger side of the Bronco, opening the door for you. Your skin tingles with warmth where his hand had touched you as you climb into the passenger seat and Bradley closes the door for you.

Immediately upon entering the truck, you’re met with a high-pitched yell of your name. You turn around to see Caroline, all tucked into her car seat, sandy curls tied up in pigtails, and a tiny pair of aviator sunglasses that match her dad’s over her eyes. She really is Bradley's mini-me and you don’t think she could get any cuter.

“Hey, sweet pea!” She’d told you when you called her that on one of your FaceTime calls that that was her favorite nickname because peas are her favorite vegetable.

“You ready for a beach day?” You inquire happily, to which Caroline replies with a toothy grin and excited squeals of affirmation. She lifts her little aviators up onto the top of her head as she talks excitedly to you, while Bradley chuckles and begins to drive.

The two of you spend the entire drive to the beach chatting animatedly, Bradley chiming in here and there, but mostly just enjoying listening to the way you happily field the kind of questions and roundabout rambling that can only come from a four-year old.

He swears that his heart is going to explode out of his chest seeing how great you are with his daughter. How much Caroline already seems to love you, and how much you seem to love her too.

***

Upon arriving at the beach and finding a spot for the Bronco in the moderately crowded lot, Bradley quickly leaps out of the driver’s side to open your door for you, eliciting a bashful smile and quiet ‘thanks’ from you as he takes your hand in his much larger one to help you down.

When your feet are safely on the ground and he’s closed the door behind you, Bradley makes his way to the back door to help Caroline — who is bouncing her little legs and practically vibrating with excitement – out of her car seat.

The three of you make your way up to the beach, Bradley carrying a large cooler that he procured from the trunk. And while you try your hardest to not drool over his impressive arms, you hold a large tote that’s filled to the brim with a blanket, towels, Caroline’s countless beach toys, and an umbrella sticking out of the top in one hand, and Caroline’s smaller hand in your free one.

It’s only a short walk, and the second your feet touch the sand, Caroline’s little hand releases yours as she bounds ahead of you and her father in search of a good spot to set up.

Bradley lets out an exasperated sigh and lifts up his sunglasses, sharp eyes trained ahead to follow his daughter’s bouncing pigtails as she runs along the busy beach. “God, she’s really gotta stop doing that.”

Holding back a giggle — because you know firsthand that Caroline wandering off is a fairly common occurrence — you look up at Bradley with a sympathetic pout.

“Yeah, but if she didn’t do that, you never would’ve met me.” You shrug matter-of-factly, lips tugging up at the corner on their own accord.

Bradley can’t help but chuckle at that.

“I guess that’s true,” the playful smirk growing on your face draws a matching one onto his lips. “But, sooner or later, she’s gonna give her old man a heart attack.”

You join him in his laughter as you continue walking toward the empty spot where you see Caroline has stopped, bouncing on her feet and waiting for the two of you with an adorable toothy grin.

“You’re not that old.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you lightly smack his shoulder.

Once everything is set up – the blanket laid out along the sand and held down at the corners by the heavy cooler and the tote, the large beach umbrella creating a nice bit of shade, and Caroline’s various toys already scattered about — Bradley kicks off his flip flops and reaches up to begin unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. Dropping his aviators onto the blanket along with it, leaving him in just his dark gray swim shorts with his torso bare.

Whoa. You thought he was hot with his clothes on, but you nearly went into shock upon seeing him without them. You knew Bradley was obviously in shape — you could see that even under the Hawaiian shirts and soft looking Navy tees he always wore over Facetime – but you didn’t know he was that muscular.

All golden skin and rippling muscles, broad shoulders and strong arms. Almost ridiculously toned abs and thick thighs leading down to shapely legs, Bradley looked like he was sculpted by the gods. Though he was a father, he certainly did not have a ‘dad bod’. You guessed that his elite naval training must be to thank for that.

In the hopes of distracting yourself — and to stop yourself from frothing at the mouth over Bradley’s physique, you decide to focus on applying the sunscreen that you also found in Bradley’s beach bag. You remove your cover-up and shimmy out of your shorts, already enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun blanketing the newly exposed skin.

Holy shit, Bradley has to stop himself from saying out loud as he catches a view of you in your bikini.

The way that the black fabric fits your body perfectly, just a hint of your plush breasts visible in the triangle top and the high-cut bottoms with little strings that cinch in at your waist accentuating your curves in all the right places, has Bradley’s heart beating faster and his cheeks heating up with a flush that he knows is not just a product of the bright sun.

He feels like he might start drooling at any moment as he takes in the sight of your skin – so much skin, and he wants to know if it would feel as soft as it looks, under his fingertips.

He watches in awe as you begin to apply your sunscreen, delicate hands smoothing over planes of skin, and Bradley wishes he could replace them with his own. He needs to stop ogling you before his swim trunks begin to show the evidence of just how much you’re affecting him.

When you’re finished lathering yourself in sunscreen, Bradley’s heart starts clenching in his chest for a whole different reason as you offer to help Caroline apply hers. She accepts your offer without hesitation, head nodding a mile a minute and that big grin that never fails to make Bradley’s heart melt on her sweet little face, and he swears she’s never taken to anyone — not even the Dagger Squad — so quickly.

He gazes on, eyes with wide adoration as you kneel down to meet his daughter’s height, gently – and oh so patiently – rubbing the cream onto the baby-soft skin of her arms and legs as she jumps and squirms around, her golden brown curls bouncing, the impatient four-year old ready to take off like a tornado down the beach.

Bradley can’t help but admire the sweet smile that overtakes your face and your soft laugh as Caroline scrunches up her adorable little button nose while you apply the sunscreen to her face, and he swears his heart grows three times its size when he hears the giggles bubbling out of his little girl’s mouth as you playfully pinch her nose and let her know that you’re done.

“What do we say, Caroline?” Bradley asks his daughter before she has a chance to run off in her excitement. His tone is slightly stern and his hands are on his hips, though a smirk is tugging at the corner of his lips as he squints against the bright sun to look at his daughter who returns his gaze with a wide-eyed, almost caught-out expression.

“Thank you!” Caroline turns back to you and wraps her arms around your neck in a quick hug that makes your heart melt.

Before you can hug her back, she races over to her dad and hugs her arms around his hips, her little head resting on his taut belly as she looks up at him with those big, brown puppy dog eyes that rival his own.

“Can we go in the ocean, Daddy?”

When Bradley lovingly strokes the crown of her head and grins down at her, you swear you could cry from how adorable the two of them are. “Of course we can, Bug.”

Then, Bradley lifts his little girl off the sand – and she looks so tiny in his arms – and you can’t help but giggle at the two of them as he leans down to blow raspberries on Caroline’s tummy through the fabric of her ruffly lilac bathing suit, high-pitched squeals and shrieking giggles leaving her as she flails in his hold, breathlessly yelling, “Daddy, stop!” while he continues to tickle her.

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Bradley chuckles, only stopping when one of Caroline’s flailing limbs nearly hits him in the face. He presses a kiss to one of her flushed cheeks, and then the two of them are looking at you with matching grins.

“You comin’, sweetheart?” The term of endearment makes your heart flutter. You glance between the two of them, holding back a laugh at the four-year old that’s buzzing with excitement in her father’s arms.

“I think I’m just gonna relax here for a bit and soak up some sun, but you two go ahead!”

Bradley looks down to where you sit on the beach blanket with an appraising look as you smile at the two of them, a hand hovering above your squinting eyes to shield them from the sun, and you could swear you catch his eyes trailing down the line of your body for just a second before returning to yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you two go! Enjoy some father-daughter time.” You nod, a pretty smile on your face, and the playful wink you send his daughter has Bradley’s swim trunks feeling the slightest bit tighter again. Yeah, maybe a few minutes apart from you would do him some good.

Little does Bradley know, your reasoning for staying back is similar to his for not arguing with that. You need a moment to yourself to refrain from doing something stupid – like trying to lick his abs or climb him like a tree – if you have to be up close to him and his gorgeous body for one more second.

You relax onto the blanket, your face hidden under the shade of the umbrella as you watch Bradley take off toward the ocean with Caroline still in his arms, the little girl giggling the whole way there.

You watch on adoringly as Bradley plays with his daughter, chasing her around on the wet sand and scooping her up in his strong arms, spinning her around and dunking her partially into the water. The two of them run through the waves, splashing each other, all smiles and laughs the entire time.

In just the brief time that you’ve known them, it’s very easy to see that Bradley’s daughter is his whole world.

When they return a while later, Caroline sprints ahead of her dad to reach you on the blanket where you’re already waiting with a smile to hand her her beach towel that has cute little frogs printed all over it.

Bradley reaches the two of you a few moments later and your arm freezes mid-air as you reach up to hand him a towel as well, too distracted to even ogle over his glistening, wet skin as you notice the red shade that’s beginning to take over the skin of his cheeks and his broad shoulders.

“Bradley, you’re all red! Did you put on any sunscreen?” You question with a breathy laugh, though Bradley can see the concern in your eyes as he takes the towel from your outstretched hand and begins to dry the water droplets on his tanned skin.

Before he can respond that he had, Caroline chimes in. “Daddy says he burns if he even looks at the sun!” She exclaims through her giggles.

You laugh along with her for a moment before fixing him with that cute, sympathetic pout again that makes Bradley’s heart flutter in his chest.

Before he knows it, you’re reaching into the beach bag for the tube of sunscreen and standing to be closer to his height – though he’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“Here, let me-” You squeeze some of the sunscreen out onto your fingers, and then your delicate hands are working the cream into the skin of Bradley’s face and his cheeks are, again, warming even more and not because of the sun.

His skin tingles where your light touch had been, and Bradley thanks whatever gods are out there that Caroline jumps in and insists that you build a sandcastle with her before you get a chance to start working the sunscreen onto his shoulders. He doesn’t know that he could handle you touching him any longer without saying or doing something stupid.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I think I can take it from here.” Bradley’s tone is flirty as he holds a hand out for the tube of sunblock, fingers grazing yours, and his lips turn up in a smirk at the flush developing on your own cheeks as you nod back at him. And he can’t suppress the quiet chuckle at the stumble in your steps as you make your way back over to Caroline to get to work on your sandcastle.

After applying the sunscreen to his own shoulders, Bradley sits down in the sand to join you and his daughter.

“Daddy! We’re building the world’s biggest sandcastle!” Caroline exclaims, filling up her bucket with sand. “It’s gonna be bigger than you!”

Bradley lets out a throaty laugh, “Yeah, I’ll bet!” He looks to you and the two of you grin at each other conspiratorially. “Can I help?”

Once the three of you have built – and demolished, a la Caroline jumping straight onto it – the “biggest sandcastle she’s ever seen”, she and Bradley convince you to get in the water with them.

You all play a game of tag in the shallows, Bradley stopping to lift his daughter out of the water every so often when there was a large wave, before you and Caroline decide to gang up on Bradley to splash him with salty seawater until he’s soaked and looking at the two of you with a pout that you want to kiss right off of his lips.

Then, Bradley’s pout quickly morphs into a mischief-filled grin, a matching one growing on his daughter’s face as you look between them, the two of them seeming to have a sort of silent conversation.

“What are you-” Before you can finish asking the question, you let out a yelp as a strong pair of arms wraps around your waist and lifts you into the air, both Bradley and Caroline laughing like hyenas as the four-year old begins splashing you with water, and you can’t help but laugh along with them as you squirm under Bradley’s very strong grip.

All too soon, Bradley’s arms are releasing you, but he keeps a steadying hand on your waist as he settles you back onto your feet. His whiskey-hued eyes peering into yours and you can only gaze back, left a bit breathless, your skin set alight with butterflies where his large palm had been even when he’s no longer touching you.

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Caroline announces, tension in the air dissipating as she jumps up and down between the two of you, tugging on the hem of her dad’s swim trunks.

You can breathe again as Bradley chuckles at her and finally shifts his gaze away from you, pushing back some of the wet curls that are stuck to her forehead. “Yeah, me too. Lead the way, Bug.”

The three of you make your way back up to your little setup on the beach, the little girl tugging you along with a hand wrapped in yours.

Bradley produces a few little packs of apple slices and the three sandwiches he’d packed earlier that morning from the cooler, peanut butter and jelly – Caroline’s favorite, as you’ve learned over your many facetime calls with the father-daughter duo and giggled at the four-year old’s jelly-covered face, where you let them know they were one of your favorites too.

“Bon appetit.” Bradley chuckles, holding out one of the plastic wrapped, diagonally cut sandwiches to you, a slightly sheepish smile coming over his mustached lips. “I know it’s not much, but-”

You cut him off with a shake of your head before he can finish his statement, and meet him with a sincere grin. “It’s perfect.”

He hands Caroline the one sandwich that has the crusts cut off and a packet of apple slices, and then pulls out an ice cold bottle of water for each of you, and a juicebox for his daughter.

While Caroline sweetly asks you to put the straw into her juicebox for her, Bradley pulls out one last thing from the cooler that has your heart leaping in your chest when you turn to notice him place something down in front of you.

A bottle of your favorite iced tea. Something you’d never explicitly mentioned to him, but that Bradley had noticed you always seemed to be drinking on your video calls with them. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet you feel like you could cry at the sweetness of it.

Bradley’s chest swells with pride as you pin him with a bright smile, eyes full of adoration. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Bradley sends you a wink that sends your heart into overdrive as he takes a bite out of his sandwich.

Bradley admires the two of you as he sits and eats his PB&J. His daughter is once again talking at you a mile a minute in that adorable, roundabout way that only little kids do as you follow along enthusiastically with a smile, you gently wiping jelly from Caroline’s face with a wet napkin and making sure that she drinks her water when you notice her cheeks getting a bit flushed.

“Just like her daddy.” He listens to you tell Caroline with a playful shake of your head, and the wink you send in his direction has Bradley swearing internally that he’s going to die, and he can’t help but think that he’d be more than happy to do this all the time.

After spending a while longer on the beach – you and Bradley sat on the large blanket chatting and watching Caroline play and build her own little castles with her pail and shovel, the three of you jumping in the water one more time, and you hiding your snickers behind your hand while Bradley tries to convince Caroline that it is not a good idea to bury him in the sand – the sun is just beginning to set.

And though he doesn’t want this day to end, Bradley decides it’s time to head home when he notices his four-year old rubbing her eyes and starting to yawn every couple of minutes.

You help him pack everything up and then the three of you make the trek back to the car, Caroline half asleep on her dad’s broad shoulders, while you walk close by Bradley’s side in a peaceful silence.

Caroline falls asleep almost instantly once Bradley gets her settled into the Bronco in her car seat, and you can’t help but coo at the adorable little girl when you turn back to look at her from the passenger seat.

The drive back to your apartment is a peaceful one, the sun still setting and bathing everything it touches in its dying golden glow — including Bradley — and you find it hard not to stare at his exquisite side profile as he bops his head along to the classic songs that play quietly from the radio as the two of you chat idly, low enough to not wake up the sleeping little girl in the backseat.

When the Bronco comes to a stop in front of your apartment, the sky has almost fully darkened and neither you or Bradley move for a long few moments, neither one of you really wanting to say goodbye, not quite ready for this perfect day to end yet.

Bradley clears his throat and turns his gaze to you with that boyish, mustached grin that sends butterflies coursing through your system and the smile you meet him with is an easy one.

“Thank you for coming today,” Bradley’s voice is quiet, raspy and deep and heat pools in your tummy as he continues to speak. “Caroline had a blast. She really likes you.”

His statement has you glancing back at the sleepy four-year old and beaming with adoration when you turn back to reply, “I really like her too. And, I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me.”

Bradley’s smile turns more playful as he nods his head, his honey brown eyes peering deep into your own as he quietly speaks again. “I really like you too.”

With the pulsing in your ears from your heart practically beating out of your chest, it takes you a few long seconds to reply and all you can manage to get out is a whispered “Yeah, me too…”

Your voice trails off and and your smile turns sheepish, gaze tilted down toward your lap to hide the obvious flush you know is blooming on your cheeks.

Bradley’s grin only broadens, eyes full of mirth at your sudden shyness.

“Can I walk you to your door?” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t really trust yours to be steady with him looking at you like that, so you simply nod in response.

After Bradley checks behind him to see that his daughter is still sleeping soundly in the backseat, he unbuckles his seatbelt and quietly hops out of the Bronco. He quickly makes his way over to the passenger side to open the door for you and help you down from his truck.

With one last look through the window at Caroline, Bradley locks up the Bronco and you begin the short walk to your door. The two of you are trailing along the concrete path slowly, Bradley’s palm hovering at the small of your back to guide you and warming your skin through the thin fabric of your cover-up.

You hesitate when you reach your front door, leaning your back against the hardwood to face Bradley, still not quite ready to cut your time with him short.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you thank Bradley before letting him know again, “I really had a great time today.”

“Yeah, me too, sweetheart.” You could swear he’s really trying to kill you every time he uses that nickname. “We should definitely do this again sometime.”

Your voices are both still quiet, as if to not disturb the peaceful, but intense atmosphere that’s built around the two of you.

“Yes, we should.” You nod your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth as Bradley’s eyes peers into yours, pools of molten honey searching your expression.

Whatever he’s looking for, he seems to find it. One of his big hands reaches up to cup your cheek, large palm splaying across the smooth skin and long fingers reaching into your hair, and he loves the way you instantly lean into his warm touch.

Bradley just admires you for a long moment, his heavy gaze trailing down from your pretty eyes to your plush lips, further to where your chest is rapidly rising up and down under your sheer cover-up as your breath quickens, and then back up again to see the look of want in your dilated eyes.

When he can no longer take the tension that’s been building up between you all day, Bradley takes a step closer, leaving only a few inches between the two of you. He leans down and the hand on your cheek guides your lips up to meet his in a kiss that’s sweet, but firm, and all-consuming.

Your lips move softly against his, one of your hands lifting up to wrap around the wrist of his hand that still cups your face. His pulse under your fingertips grounding you as you sigh into the kiss, and you think you could get lost in him.

His lips, gentle and languid as they press against your own, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, and the comforting scent of him surrounding you — the spicy cologne that still lingers on his clothes, a hint of sweat mixed with the fresh, beachy scent from a day spent on the sand and sea, and something that’s just Bradley.

When Bradley deepens the kiss, lips moving more fervently against your own, your resulting whimper has him crowding you against the door, no longer an inch of space left between your bodies as his broad chest presses against yours, his free hand coming to grip at your waist.

Bradley’s tongue trails the seam of your lips, begging for entrance that you grant him without resistance, swallowing his deep groan as your free hand reaches up to his hair. Your fingers tangle into the strands, his waves extra defined from the salty sea water, fluffy from the beach and now, you.

As your tongue glides along with his, Bradley’s strong hands now both squeeze at your waist, trailing down your sides until they reach the backs of your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you into his strong arms, never breaking the kiss, and your legs wrap around his waist as the weight of his body presses you harder into your front door.

Things continue on like this — for minutes or hours, you’re not quite sure as you completely lose yourself in the feeling of Bradley’s kiss — only getting deeper, hungrier, more frenzied. Your lips never parting from Bradley’s despite the burning that’s beginning to grow in your lungs, thighs clenching around his hips in search of even a hint of friction to curb the arousal that’s building in your core.

Bradley finally pulls away when the lack of oxygen gets to be too much. Your lips chase his, the little whimper you send him when his mouth is no longer on yours, going straight to his cock that’s pressed against your hip, straining against his already-tight swim trunks, and his head is spinning from the way your lips trail down to press gentle kisses to his jaw.

He wishes he could take you inside your apartment — to your bed, and he would have, but it’s then that he remembers his four year-old daughter is asleep in the backseat of his car.

Bradley’s forehead presses against your own and he breathes in deep before exhaling a deep sigh to steady himself. After pressing one last peck to your lips, he sets your feet back down on the ground. He takes a step back to look at you, hands hesitating to leave your waist as he doesn’t want to stop touching you yet.

Your expression is dazed, lips are swollen and eyes blown wide, your heaving chest matching his own as you take the oxygen back into your lungs, and Bradley can’t help but pull you in one last time with a hand on the back of your neck to kiss you breathless — again.

When he pulls away this time, Bradley hardly gives himself a moment to catch his breath before he pants out, “Can I please take you on a date?”

You nod your head near-frantically and you laugh just as breathlessly. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Bradley chuckles, gazing down at you in adoration, his thumb that reaches up to caress your cheek and his next words draw a blush to your cheeks.

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to for weeks. Since the first day that we met you.”

You turn your head to press a sweet kiss to Bradley’s thumb.

“You could have. I definitely would’ve said yes.” You reply with a bashful smile.

“Yeah, I’m a bit off my game. I haven’t really done this in a while if I’m being honest.” Bradley admits a little sheepishly and you nod along, encouraging him to continue.

“I haven’t dated much since Caroline. She’s kinda become my whole world.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward and hoping you don’t think that’s pathetic.

You take his hand in yours and smile at Bradley, eyes shining bright in what can only be described as admiration.

“You’re an amazing father, Bradley. You're so dedicated to Caroline and that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you gaze up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his sun-reddened cheek. “And I definitely want to go out with you.”

“Thank god.” The pair of you let out relieved laughs at his words. Bradley’s hands reach out for your waist once again. “Come here.”

Bradley leaves you with one more passionate kiss that ends way too quickly for either of your liking and a ‘Goodnight, sweetheart’ that paints a blush on your cheeks.

After making sure that you’re safely inside your apartment, Bradley strides back to the Bronco, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. With a glance in the rearview mirror at his baby girl still sound asleep in her car seat, he begins the short journey back to their home, a goofy smile on his face for the entirety of the drive as he thinks about how he’s going to take you on the perfect date.

•

Thank you for reading! x

Don't forget to comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! I've got one more part planned for this little series, it's not written yet but I hope to get it out to you guys soon <3

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @misshoneypaper @diorrfairy

also tagging some people who reblogged/commented on part one: @bitter-post-millennial @rhettabbotts @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @becks-things @indynerdgirl @perfectprettypisces @annathesillyfriend @southpawbitch @colourfulsuitwonderland @wildxwidow @roger-that-cap @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @valhallaas @mayari-tala @teacupsandtopgun @dorothychxca @fangirlvoice @jjenjoysthings @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @je-suis-prest-rachel

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x y/n #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x you #top gun fanfiction #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

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aubaee · 2 months

Text

class buddy — p.js

enhypen jay head cannon

classmate!Jay whom you met as your desk mate in college.

classmate!Jay is chic with a mysterious aura around him, his demeanor drawing you closer in curiosity.

classmate!Jay who dresses fashionably in a vintage style with his favorite cologne.

classmate!Jay who asks to be your partner in the upcoming project for your class.

classmate!Jay asks for your phone number to discuss about the project once you’re outside of class

"hey, is it okay if we can exchange numbers? Now that we're partners in this project together."

classmate!Jay invites you to go to the library together, using the excuse of “research” for the project

"when are you free so we can go work together?"

classmate!Jay who you get to know as someone with a firm resolve in his beliefs.

classmate!Jay whom you get to know as someone with a unique sense of humor, sometimes pulling dad jokes out of context.

classmate!Jay who you get to know as a person with a warm, selfless, and pure heart.

classmate!Jay who saves a seat for you in class if you’re slightly late.

classmate!Jay in which you enjoy his company during class as he never fails to make you laugh.

classmate!Jay whom you get close to for the remaining of the semester despite finishing the project together.

classmate!Jay invites you to go out for drinks at a cafe he recommended since he found out about your interest in trying new drinks/foods.

classmate!Jay in which you get really close to after spending time outside of class together.

bestfriend!Jay who thought of you and sends you messages regarding a new restaurant he went to with his guy best friends

"we should go together here next time, I think you'd enjoy it"

bestfriend!Jay who matches your energy and jokes around with, occasionally bickering with each other

"let's play fair at least!!"

bestfriend!Jay is afraid of the horror genre but tries his best to watch horror movies with you because he knows you enjoy the thrill of it

"ahh I told you that would happen! now look who's being haunted next."

bestfriend!Jay who sends funny memes on social platforms to share laughter with you

"this is us" "why does it remind me of you from that one time?? lol"

bestfriend!Jay who pays attention to the smallest details of you, especially noticing your habits, which he thinks is cute.

bestfriend!Jay who’s love language is acts of service, in which he plays close attention to you a lot.

“Here, I cooked this for you since you told me it was your favorite.”

“My dish will become the best you’ve ever had.”

bestfriend!Jay who carries an extra hair tie in case you needed it because you either lost it or forgot.

bestfriend!Jay who keeps an extra pouch (comb, hair clip, pads/tampons, cough drops) of your stuff in his car glove box, just in case you forgot to bring an item you needed.

bestfriend!Jay who comforts you when you’re going through a hard time regarding your family, academics, or relationships.

bestfriend!Jay who enjoys cooking for you just to see you smile.

bestfriend!Jay plays the guitar occasionally when he comes over to your apartment complex.

bestfriend!Jay whom you have an annual weekend together to travel far outside of the city.

bestfriend!Jay who treats you out for cafe dates just cause

"let's go out"

a/n: hi hii, hope you enjoy this really short cannon of Jay. for sure there will be more scenarios along the way~ the idea came up to me in the middle of the night as i was streaming their comeback for XO (only if you say yes). 🚨 also if you haven’t yet pls stream their XO (OIYSY) mv, esp on Spotify or Apple Music, and vote for ENHYPEN on all voting platforms (ALLCHART/U Pick/Mnet+/Superstar X/Mubeat)! Thank youu! ♡

☆ please like & reblog ☆

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alexsoenomel · 8 months

Text

The Reveries Of My Mind (Dean Winchester x Reader fluff/smut)

Summary: What happens when you discover you can feel someone's torment and struggles through an unexplainable bond?

"Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine."

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , vanilla sex, dreams about the reader dying --not too graphic , first person fic

Word count: 6.7k

Note: I took my time with this one. I really like it. I've been struggling to write for so long it feels good to be back. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

And a huge thank you to my wonderful beautiful best friend @ambergoddess444 for being the best beta reader <3

I’m gonna kill him.

I heard Sam’s voice echo in my mind as I was eating my pancakes. I looked at Dean who was stuffing his face with eggs and bacon, not really paying attention to Sam’s resting bitch face.

STOP CHEWING SO LOUD FOR THE LOVE OF CHUCK!

I heard him again and almost choked on my milk.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I answered.

Dean just glanced at me and continued eating his breakfast.

It was Sunday and luck was on our side because we couldn't find a case. This would happen once in a blue moon so we were quite content with having a day off. Monsters sometimes sleep.

After breakfast Sam said he was going to go and catch up on some reading while Dean and I were left alone.

“Can I borrow Baby?” I asked, since it was July and summer was in full swing in Kansas. I wanted to forget about my job – about hunting – I wanted to go outside and feel the summer breeze in my hair in his beautiful Impala. I already knew his answer as soon as I saw his brow arch. He was very protective over his Baby; only allowed me to drive once after I begged him for my birthday.

Absolutely not.

“Why?”

I crossed my arms, my lips thinned.

“Why ask when you already gave me your answer?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, eyes widened as we were sitting at the table opposite of each other.

“I keep forgetting you can do that,” he said, looking away from me.

“You keep forgetting about your mental shield,” I told him as I went to the kitchen to get myself some coffee.

I didn't realize Dean was following me until I heard his voice.

“I can't just sit in silence and breathe while I think about nothing.”

“You mean to meditate?” I chuckled.

“Yeah…that.”

I took a sip of hot coffee Sam made after breakfast and turned around to face him.

“You have to strengthen your shield, Dean.”

“There has to be another way,” he said desperately as he poured coffee into his black mug.

“No there isn't, I told you. Everyone has a mental shield, but the reason why I can hear people's thoughts 99% of the time is because their shield is not strong enough. And how do you strengthen your shield? You shut up and meditate. Focus on it and build it.”

Dean wasn't pleased as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Sam meditates, can you still hear his thoughts?”

“I can, because it takes years to actually strengthen the damn shield and he started meditating six months ago.”

He just rolled his eyes as we went back to the library.

“I don't want you in my head,” he stated.

“I cannot help it, dumbass. Can I take the car or not?”

Dean took the keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of my face. I tried to take them but he refused to give them to me.

Typical.

“I'm driving,” he told me with a smirk.

***

“Where do you want to go?” He asked me as I closed the car door.

“I don't have any particular destination in mind. I just wanted to drive around and listen to music.”

Dean gave me a soft smile before starting the engine. Baby was purring – I could never get tired of that sound; it was smooth and powerful – no wonder he was so protective of her. The car held memories, sacred moments and was filled with stories – good and bad.

“Sounds like a plan,” and with those words we were off.

We were on the main highway, heading to God knows where. Dean, of course being the driver, was controlling the music as well.

Dream On by Aerosmith was playing. I loved that song, but I was in the mood for Van Halen.

Driver picks the music. Shot-

“Shotgun what?” I smirked, glancing at him. I saw he gripped the wheel tighter and licked his lips.

“God, I hate when you do that,” he said. I chuckled.

Front windows were down, summer breeze in my face and hair gently caressing me as Crazy Train started playing. Ozzy was too chaotic for this drive. As much as I loved his songs I wanted something to ease my mind and not encourage my body to produce adrenaline. I dared to change the song.

Don't Fear The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult.

Much better.

“Hey, I was listening to that,” Dean of course complained.

“Well not anymore,” I told him as I showed him a middle finger.

A chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

“Wanna grab a few drinks?”

“Dean I don't wanna get drunk at” – I looked at my phone to check the time – “11am.”

“You don't have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can buy a few beers and go to our favorite hiding spot. If I get too drunk maybe, maybe I'll let you drive.”

I couldn't believe what I just heard. My heart was racing from excitement. Sam was always the designated driver; Dean would sometimes drive drunk without us noticing. I know that because he admitted that…while we were drinking after a successful hunt.

“Really?” I played skeptical; part of me was. “You're not afraid I'll crash your beloved car?”

“If you do, I'll kill you,” he looked at me and gave me a flat smile.

Fair enough.

“Well okay.”

She won't crash my car.

Well I think she won’t.

I hope she won’t.

I didn't say anything, just stared at the trees blurred on my right side as we passed by; absorbing the warmth and sunshine in my face.

It's My Life By Bon Jovi started playing.

Perfect.

Dean bought a couple of beers and some Slim Jims at the first gas station just before his favorite hiding spot.

The hiding spot was an abandoned house we found a few months ago when we were hunting a vampire nest. It was an old cabin in the middle of nowhere, a few miles away from the main road. After exterminating the nest, we started coming there every once in a while to relax and get away from everything that made us hunters. Sam completely forgot about that place but Dean and I would occasionally go, mainly at night to get away from the bunker’s haunting reminder of the life we were living. There we were just regular folk, drinking and having fun. The house was dusty and old, but dear to us, like a portal to a regular life and what we desperately wanted, but could never have.

As we were approaching the house I couldn’t ignore the strong sense of serenity coming from Dean. His mind was at ease, no racing thoughts, no sorrow he would usually carry within himself – he was happy. I’ve never told him about that; I know he would probably freak out – yell even – so I kept my mouth shut. I would be lying if I said it didn't freak me out as well. Every emotion he would feel, I would feel too and sometimes even twice as strong. It was like a bond of some sort; an invisible string connecting us and letting me see and feel every inch of his mind. I would wake up whenever he couldn’t sleep, I’d laugh whenever he’d laughed and I would get angry whenever he’d get angry…I felt everything and it was driving me insane not being able to talk to him about it, because it was only him I’d felt connected to.

I smiled at him when he turned off the engine, feeling the warmth in his soul. I got out of the car and stretched my legs, inhaling fresh summer air and soaking in the sunshine on my skin.

“Let’s have a picnic,” I suggested, “I don’t wanna go inside. The weather is beautiful.”

“A picnic? Here?” He asked, looking around. Nothing but endless grass fields around us; the highway was peeking through the greenery but we could barely see it anymore.

“You will be fine, princess,” I chuckled, “Besides it’s good to connect with mother nature every once and a while.”

Forest nymph.

He started calling me that when I told him about my love and admiration for nature and my passion for hiking and exploring woods. He told me no sane person loves hiking, but his younger brother understood. Now, occasionally I’d go hiking with Sam.

I ignored his thought, even though I wanted to tell him we weren’t in a forest, and found a perfect spot next to the house and sat down. He rolled his eyes and joined me.

Dean cracked two bottles and I opened one of my favorite honey BBQ Slim Jims and took a first bite. I loved the smooth texture and a light honey flavor mixed with BBQ aroma in my mouth.

“Cheers!” He said lifting his bottle for a toast.

“Cheers, for not dying!”

He chuckled.

“For not dying!”

One beer…

Two beers later we were both feeling the consequences of our own actions. I was tipsy due to my low alcohol tolerance while Dean seemed sober but was far from it. He had a strange gift – being able to fake sobriety. He had been doing it for years and now seeing him behaving like a drunken fool looked strange and unfamiliar.

He was looking at me; green eyes sparkling under the sun making me wonder if he and I were ever meant for something more. I was in love with the idea of being in love with him but it scared me more than death which I had experienced a couple of times. He was my best friend, my annoying best friend with a heart of gold and a shadow he wanted to remain hidden.

We stayed for hours, soaking in the sunshine and summer heat while reliving old memories and wondering if this life we had was worth it. We soon realized, it was.

“We still get to experience this,” I stated, showing him a butterfly that flew in that moment right in front of me.

“Butterflies?” He wondered, tilting his head a little in confusion.

“Nature, dumbass,” I smiled, “And other small pleasures, music, alcohol, food…and also knowing the world is less shitty because of us.”

He nodded in a silent agreement before hearing him call me forest nymph again. His warm green eyes fixed on me, making me a bit nervous. He didn't say a word.

“What?” I finally asked him.

His right hand went into the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out his car keys.

“You can drive,” he told me and gave me the keys.

***

When we came back home safely, since I didn’t crash his precious car, Sam was still in his room, probably reading and Dean decided to take a nap since naps weren’t a regular occurrence in our household.

I decided to continue the book I started a couple of weeks ago. I missed being able to read books I wanted, and not just ones for research purposes. I could still feel him. He was content. I smiled and opened my book.

An hour into the book and a picture flashed right in front of my eyes. I saw blood, so much blood on the sidewalk. Hairs on my arms rose as another frame appeared: it was a girl lying face down, head bludgeoned. A wave of fear rushed over me as I closed my book, not being able to simply ignore it. I knew exactly what this was – Dean’s nightmares – I knew exactly who this was.

Another flash. His hands, covered in blood. He was trying to wake me up. He was calling my name over and over again like a prayer of despair, but I didn’t wake up; I didn’t move an inch.

Usually I would ignore his nightmares; I was too afraid to say anything, afraid of his reaction and not being able to give him a good explanation, but my silence was killing me. Something told me – maybe it was intuition or my impulsiveness, or both – I had to wake him up.

Quickly I got out of my bed and rushed to his room. His jaw was clenched, his body seemed stiff under the white sheet that covered him just below his chin. I could hear quiet moans coming from him as another picture appeared right in front of me – he was on his knees, holding me tight, eyes bloodshot red and filled with tears…My heart broke in a second before I closed my eyes, trying to make it go away. As I approached him I could see his eyes fluttering rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, his forehead glistening with a faint sheen of sweat…I had to wake him up.

“Dean?” I whispered and sat next to him. A whimper escaped his lips.

“Dean?” I called his name again, this time a little bit louder and with a hand on his cheek. He was warm.

“Dean, wake up!” I could feel his shock as he shot his eyes open, taking a deep breath like he forgot how to breathe, shivers running through him – I could feel them all over my skin.

He took in his familiar surroundings before he looked at me.

“You had a nightmare,” I told him.

“Yeah, a really bad one,” he simply added, pinching the bridge of his nose. A headache started to settle as he got up and went to the bathroom to splash himself with cold water. He was only wearing black boxers and it wasn’t like I have never seen him shirtless, it was the fact that every time I did, I had to tell myself not to stare like a Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time.

I swallowed thickly without saying a word.

I have to tell him. I repeated that sentence over and over again. I have to tell him he deserves to know.

When he came back my eyes registered his bulge for a second before looking up. I was praying he didn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, so much for napping,” he lied and started putting on his blue jeans. I knew he was lying, he would always lie and repress his emotions and needs. I knew he was exhausted. Those nightmares had been happening for a week straight; the exhaustion showing on his face in a form of dark circles; the once lively features now appeared subdued; eyes dimmed.

“I saw it,” I utter these three words without much thought.

“What?” He was about to button his red flannel, stopping mid through.

“I saw your nightmare, you have been having the same nightmare for a week now.”

I refused to look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me as he took my words in. I could feel a slight sting in my chest coming from him – shock.

“You can read minds AND see people’s nightmares?”

“Not people’s; yours. It only happens with you, I wake up every time you have a nightmare, I feel every emotion you feel,” – I took a deep breath before I continued; I knew him well enough to know he hated secrets, even though he was a damn hypocrite and had his own – “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to freak you out. I cannot control it, trust me I tried, but I can’t. It has been happening for a while and-”

His eyes once trusting shited and now held a hint of disappointment, his jaw clenched. Anger.

Anger and disappointment.

“For how long?” His deep voice echoed in my ears as he cut my frantic explanation short.

I froze. I knew this question was coming. I knew right there that keeping this thing a secret was a mistake. I couldn’t answer it. I couldn’t…

“For how long (Y/N)?” He demanded crossing his arms. I didn’t like the sound of my name when he was angry.

I stood up, barely feeling my legs before I answered: “A year.”

“Does Sam know?” The next question came out less angrily, his voice softer than seconds ago.

“No.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It started as just me feeling whenever you were happy, it was hard to recognise it at first, I thought it was my happiness and then it progressed to other emotions like fear, anger and sadness and after that I started seeing your dreams. I didn’t tell Sam because I wasn’t sure what was happening.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?” He asked like I hadn’t given him the answer.

“I told you I didn’t want to freak you out. It feels like I’m invading your privacy.”

He scoffed.

“No shit Sherlock!”

His eyes widened before he spoke again: “Wait, so that means you can feel whenever I get horny?”

I chuckled. “No, because being horny isn’t an emotion, Dean. It’s a state.”

“Oh thank God,” he expressed his relief.

“I do feel the sudden rush of endorphins and happy hormones every time you come though,” at this point I had nothing to hide, especially when I could feel his anger subsiding. It wasn’t like him to just ignore something that made him angry, but for whatever reason he was over it. Now he was mortified.

“Oh God!” He said and opened the door of his room. “SAMMY! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE WE HAVE SOME RESEARCH TO DO!”

I swallowed a laugh before he turned around.

“We're gonna get to the bottom of this!”

***

Sam was genuinely surprised when I told him about the bond. He would usually try to find an explanation or guess what it was; this time he was silent. No logical explanation, no guessing, no nothing…

“Well that’s something I have never heard off,” he just told you and went to the library to try and find some books about…

Mind reading?

Bonds?

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” he said, looking at the spines of old books on the shelves.

“You’re telling me,” Dean agreed.

“It’s not like I’m a monster with abilities.”

My statement was enough to light a bulb in Sam’s head: “Yes but…” – he went to the second shelf behind you, like he knew what he was looking for – “You’re something else.”

Dean and I looked at each other in confusion before Sam pulled a book from the shelf.

“Indigo children?” I read the covers.

“Huh?” Of course Dean had no idea.

“I mean it makes sense, you said you were always highly empathetic, ever since you were a kid right?”

“Yes,” I nodded as he was flipping the pages trying to find a specific chapter. The book was annotated but it wasn’t his handwriting.

“Also you started reading minds when you were 7?”

“Well kinda.”

“Before that it was like a guessing game, you just knew?”

“Sort of.”

Chapter 54. Abilities.

Indigo children are children who are believed to possess special, unusual, and sometimes supernatural traits or abilities.

“I have been on this Earth for how long and I’ve never connected the dots,” I said, admiring my own stupidity and inability to dig deeper. I was never curious enough to find an explanation for my ability; never cared enough to think about it too deeply; when I started living with Sam and Dean five years ago I told them right away what I could do. They first thought I was Azazel’s long lost special kid, the one that was lucky enough to somehow hide in the shadows back when Azazel was still alive, but that wasn’t the case. My parents were killed by a vampire and I’d never met Azazel; I didn’t even know he existed until they told me. I only knew regular black eyed demons.

“So, you were a gifted kid? That still doesn’t explain your ability to do what you have been doing for a year,” Dean scoffed.

Who names gifted kids indigo kids? Seriously?!

You chuckled.

“Wait, you have been able to do that for a year?” You heard Sam, your eyes still on the book, trying to find something, anything that would indicate the existence of the said bond.

“Yes, why?”

“Go to chapter 55,” he told me. I flipped a few pages until I saw: Chapter 55, Soulmate bonds.

An Indigo child can stumble upon an unprecedented neural synchronization when encountering their soulmate. This synchronization extends beyond telepathic communication, as it involves the transmission and reception of emotional states and dream imagery, resulting in an intimate sharing of thoughts, feelings, and subconscious experiences. Although very rare, it is possible for an Indigo child’s soulmate to be mortal, with no supernatural abilities. If an Indigo child does encounter their soulmate the bond can snap into place usually after 4 or 5 years (one case showed it can also happen after six months).

“I read this book before we met so it never crossed my mind,” I heard Sam say as I was absorbing the information. I’d known him for five years…

Five years…

It made sense.

As I was reading the first chapter out loud Dean’s wave of shock made my heart beat faster as Sam went to the kitchen to get some booze. It was like he read my mind. I have never heard of his bond. As much as I loved the idea of Dean being mine, I knew he came with tons of baggage, untreated alcoholism, and rage so immense it made my stomach turn. I was no better though just with less intensity and alcoholism.

That’s bullshit.

My heart broke hearing these words, but I finally got the courage to look at him, and for the first time his face was unreadable. He was silent. And then he just left.

Sam came back with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and three classes in the other.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He left…to process, I guess,” I said before hearing Dean slamming the front door.

Sam, knowing me too well, didn’t say anything and just poured me a glass of Dean’s fine whiskey. I took a sip feeling a sweet burn down my throat. We were silent for a while, my words buried deep in my mind; struggling to articulate my thoughts as if I had any at that moment.

“How do you feel about all of this?” Sam finally spoke, breaking the pleasant silence.

A lump formed in my throat as I tried to blink back tears. I cleared my throat and took another sip.

“I think…I’m scared to tell him he already has me wrapped around his finger with or without the stupid bond,” my answer was honest. I was scared – terrified of crossing the boundary; breaking the only rule I had: no long term relationships. Anything more than a friendship with Dean would end catastrophically; I was aware of that and yet I still secretly hoped. I wanted him to want me, I wanted him to look at me and see a safe space; I wanted him so painfully to see me and think: “She’s worth it.”

“Oh he knows, he's just being a dick about it,” Sam’s bluntness surfaced as he drank his glass of whiskey.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not really following him.

He knows?

“You two have something I’ve only experienced once in my life and yet you refuse to acknowledge it.”

My forehead creased as I subtly tilted my head in confusion. Then I heard Sam’s voice in my head as he looked at me with a soft smile on his face.

Jessica…

“Oh…” was all I could say.

“Yeah, he was scared before, now he’s probably terrified. Talk to him when he gets back.”

“So he can reject me? And probably tell me to move out? Even if he feels the same, I know Dean, and he would rather give up alcohol for the rest of his life than talk about his feelings.”

Sam snorted and nodded silently agreeing with me.

“Trust me. He won’t reject you. He’s my brother, I know him a little bit better than you do.”

***

Dean was gone for hours it seemed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the bond, so I did what any sane hunter would do – I repressed my thoughts with more whiskey and drowned myself in more research with Sam. The more I drank it felt like I became more sober.

I wanted to know more about this soulmate bond. I wanted to know if there was any other way for people to block me from entering their minds besides strengthening the mental shield.

“I’ve never asked you, how did you find out about the shield anyway?” Sam asked me behind his laptop while I was trying to find books about telepathy.

“A witch told me,” I stated behind bookshelves, “When my parents died I let it control me, I couldn’t stand it, I could hear every single person I came in contact with and it was driving me nuts. So, I found a witch, a good one, and she helped me control it and told me about the shield since she was the first person I couldn’t tap into.”

I remember her fondly. Her white crow would sometimes appear, to let me know she was alive and I would visit her every year on her birthday in winter. I would tell the Winchesters I was seeing an old friend; without adding too much detail, since I knew Dean’s hatred of witches far too well.

“Good witches exist?”

“Oh yeah, she’s wonderful.”

There wasn’t any other way for other people to shield their minds from me, sadly.

“Oh but I think I found something,” Sam told me and turned his laptop towards me. I read the short paragraph and looked at him.

“I can do that?”

“You can try.”

***

Dean was still gone by the time we decided to take a break from research. Sam decided to go for a walk before bed while I went to my room to try and contact Dean through the bond. The article Sam found stated it was possible to contact your soulmate if you focused all of your energy on them.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes, picturing Dean standing right in front of me. Even in my mind he made me nervous. His aura was so captivating and stoic; you couldn’t forget him even if you tried. His name escaped my lips a few times, eyes still closed, but all I could hear was dead silence.His face still engraved in my mind, I studied his features: his smile lines, beautiful kissable lips, his perfect nose, freckles…

Dean? I called.

(Y/N), what the hell?

He heard me. I could feel my feet going cold as my body went numb. My heart was in my throat.

I’ll explain later! Please come home, I wanna talk to you.

In a second, my mind lost focus as I became more aware of my nervousness and he was gone. I couldn’t see him anymore.

“Crap!” I uttered in frustration and decided to text him.

Please come home.

***

I heard his footsteps thirty minutes later. I was ready for the worst; I was ready for Dean to tell me to leave; I was ready for all of it to end.

I heard him knock seconds later.

“You there?”

“Come in!”

He closed the door behind him. I was in the middle of trying to read my book, emphasis on trying, since the nervousness turned into full blown anxiety and I couldn’t focus on anything but him. I put the book down as he sat on the bed. I was hit with a sudden smell of cigarettes and alcohol in my nostrils. He probably went to a bar.

“How did you do that?” He asked, this time looking me dead in the eyes. His gaze wasn’t soft – I couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated – his eyes bore into mine with such seriousness I’d only seen a handful of times.

“I did some research with Sam. The bond allows us to communicate telepathically.”

“I-I can also do that?”

“If you concentrate hard enough, yeah.”

An astounded chuckle was all I heard. And then:

This is crazy.

I know.

His lips parted slightly once he realized he could hear me. I on the other hand didn’t want him to hear me, but looking at him, seeing the evident worry and fear in his green eyes, I couldn’t control it. It became natural.

“Where were you?” I asked and boldly decided to sit next to him.

“Went to our favorite hiding spot to think. When thinking became too much, I went to a bar and had a couple of drinks.”

“And? What are your thoughts?”

His hand gently found mine, intertwining his fingers with mine. I wasn’t sure if I was breathing at that moment. I could feel my cheeks burning as he pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I feel like ignoring how I feel about you just made everything worse.”

I’m terrified.

I ignored it and focused on his actual voice. “And I feel like this bond slapped me in the face.”

“You and me both,” I smiled.

Sam was right after all. I didn’t know what else to say but all I could think about was pressing my lips against his. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but my body refused to cooperate with my mind.

I didn’t need to kiss him first, because his lips found mine in a matter of seconds. The kiss was gentle, warm; his lips perfectly pressed against mine. I opened my mouth letting him know he could explore it with his tongue and he was happy to do so. A whine escaped my lips when he broke the kiss.

“I heard you,” he smirked.

Please stay with me. My mind yelled.

“I will,” he heard me. Again.

***

Dean went to get ready for bed and so did I. It was already 11pm, Sam was long gone, snoring in his room after a long walk and I went to take a shower.

It will probably happen.

Maybe it won’t?

Maybe we will just cuddle and sleep?

Yeah right.

Why am I so nervous?

I’m nervous because the last time I was in love with someone he left me for a girl named Karen.

In high school.

Crap.

My thoughts were racing as I was washing myself and getting ready to spend the night with him. I put on my shirt and a pair of clean underwear before brushing my teeth. I turned off the lights and went under the covers. Somehow it was always cold in my room, no matter the season. I focused on my soft pillow and how it felt against my cheek as I turned on my side. That lasted maybe two seconds as my mind kept drifting and wondering what was coming next. The thought of him pressed against me made me excited; his lips on my neck, hands on my hips…

I didn’t even realize I was rubbing my thighs together, desperately seeking some form of release. Thank God I was tired, a few moments later I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and my body finally relaxing. I wondered where Dean was as I started drifting and soon enough I got my answer.

He would always take long showers; so I wasn’t surprised when he came 15 minutes later. He found me peacefully drifting between realms of reality and dreams, and with his hands wrapped around me pulled me back to reality – to him. My back pressed against him; we stayed like this, as my patience was running low and I could feel myself getting wet.

He was melting any sense of restraint I had and even with nervousness practically suffocating me, I turned around and snuggled against him, his chin resting on top of my head. He was warm; skin soft as I took a deep breath to breathe in his scent – forest after rain and him.

“Did you know?” I whispered into him.

“Huh? What?” His deep raspy voice so close to ears made me shiver.

“Did you know that I have feelings for you?”

Sam said he did, but I wanted to hear from him.

“I suspected it, but refused to believe it. Until Sam confirmed it.”

“How did Sam know? I’ve never told him.” I said and lifted my head to look at him. It was dark, but I could still see the outlines of his face – he smiled at me.

“He told me you get smiling eyes when we are together. I didn’t really know what he meant until we took down that vampire nest back in Austin. I told you, you were an idiot for trying to take down a whole damn nest by yourself and you kept looking at me with those dove lookin’ eyes.”

I smiled. I remembered that. It was a few months ago and I was indeed an idiot. He and Sam almost died and I had to do something. I was reckless and instead of coming up with a plan I let my machete go wild.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re angry.”

I could feel his smirk before I kissed him, this time cupping his cheek with my hand. He immediately kissed back, pulling me closer to him like that was even possible. This time, one kiss turned into another and another. We both didn't want to pull away; his hands hesitantly started roaming under my shirt, instantaneously sending shivers all over my body. I took his hands, breaking the kiss.

“Touch me. I'm yours,” I whispered before kissing him again, not being able to get enough. I could feel his little smirk against my lips as he tugged on my shirt trying to take it off. I took it off and in seconds he took his. My mind was focused on him and only him as I felt his soft skin under my fingertips.

You're going to be the death of me.

Likewise, sweetheart.

This time I smiled between kisses. I liked that nickname, I couldn’t wait to actually hear it out loud. He wasted no time before he pushed me onto the bed and straddle me; his lips not leaving mine. We were like two addicts; we couldn't stop; we didn't want to stop. He pressed his hips on mine and I could feel him, pressed against my wet center. A soft moan escaped my lips as my fingers tugged on his damp hair. He moved his lips on my neck, while his hand found my center. A light brush was enough to make me moan his name. I was so sensitive, so vulnerable underneath him; he was consuming every reverie of my mind.

I was growing impatient, but he knew that, and now I couldn't hide anything from him anymore. The bond was stronger now, we didn't even have to try to communicate with one another; it was like breathing.

I lowered his boxers as much as I could and wrapped my hand around his hard dick, earning a groan from him. I pumped him a few times, as my impatience became his. He kissed me before standing on his knees and took my panties off. He stopped for a second.

Adoration – I could feel it through the bond. He was making me blush in the dark; my cheeks growing warm.

You're so beautiful.

Before I could answer him, he positioned himself between my legs and slowly entered me, stretching me nice and slow; his lips found mine again as he swallowed my gasp and slowly started to move. My legs wrapped around his hips, wanting more, more and more…

I was about to get drunk and see stars. My hands were around his neck before I cupped his face. He broke the kiss when we both couldn't breathe, biting my shoulder lightly, his pace becoming faster.

My mind only knew his name as I was chanting it over and over again, like a sweet prayer. He nuzzled his head in my neck, kissing it sloppily.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear.

I was in a complete haze, unable to muster anything but his name.

His nose resting on my cheek, he placed a soft kiss only to swallow my moans once more, as we both started to fall apart.

“Dean, I-,” I wasn't able to speak, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach and I could tell, feel, he wasn't going to last much longer.

“I know, baby. I know. I can feel it,” he said and I wasn't sure if he could feel it through the bond or if my body was telling him – or both.

My moans became desperate; with that voice Dean could make me do whatever his little heart desired.

We came in sync, eyes locked and growing breathless. He couldn't keep my name out of his mouth and I didn't want him to. When he pulled out and laid next to me we were both panting and growing sleepier. I lazily moved closer to him, kissing his shoulder as he immediately wrapped his hand around my torso and pulled me close.

“And you thought we'd just cuddle,” he chuckled.

I raised my head to look at him.

“You heard me?”

“Yeah, we have to figure out how to not hear each other's thoughts all the time.”

“Well…” I started and he just shot me a death glare.

“I ain't meditating.”

I cupped his face, squeezing his cheeks lightly making his lips pout.

“Fine,” I said and gave him a pack on the lips, “we will find another way.”

“Thank you.”

I stayed in his arms until we both fell asleep. He played with my hair and I drew small circles on his chest. He asked me about the research – what I found, what I didn't – asked me about us.

“If it's meant to be it's meant to be,” my eyelids grew heavy as I mumbled the words and drifted to sleep.

Dean kissed my forehead and closed his eyes.

***

I could feel Dean’s hands pulling me closer to him, his fingers digging into my flesh as my ears heard him say my name in a form of whisper. I lazily opened my eyes not knowing if he was awake or not. His fingers dug into my stomach as he repeatedly called me in a frantic tone.

He’s dreaming.

“Dean?” I turned around and even in complete darkness my eyes registered his clenched jaw, while my body felt the stiffness of his.

“Dean?” I repeated again and nuzzled my head under his chin and placed a gentle kiss on his neck. I knew what he was dreaming about – I was dying again and he was trying to save me.

Dean, baby wake up!

I told him through the bond as I stroked his soft hedgehog-like hair. I could sense the fear lingering within him as his eyes shot open, his breathing came in uneven gasps and his chest was rising and falling frantically. I wrapped my hand around his torso and embraced him in a tight hug as the weight of the nightmare still lingered.

“I’m here,” I repeated a couple of times, giving him the reassurance I knew he needed.

“It’s just a dream, Dean.”

His breathing became stable again.

“You died,” eventually he told me. The fear was gone and replaced with sadness – sadness so somber and heavy I only felt once when Charlie died.

“No, I didn’t. I’m here,” I told him and placed his hand on my chest.

“I’m right here,” I said before kissing him. A sigh of relief left his lips.

“I feel like I’m gonna lose it…the same dream over and over.”

He was desperate, so desperate for answers it made my soul ache, but I knew this wasn’t the time.

“I know, and we will figure it out. Sleep baby, I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered before kissing him lovingly. His hand found my cheek as I broke the kiss resting my forehead against his.

“Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine,” I told him as my legs intertwined with his. My hand was on his chest, feeling his heart beating faster. Something was traveling through the bond, something lovely and warm I could only describe it as love. Suddenly I heard it; a whisper traveling through the bond: I love you, before he kissed me again.

I love you too.

Tagged: @lacilou , @littlemadamred , @girls-alias , @captainannatheweirdo , @nancymcl

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fishermanshook · 3 months

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ASK: hi! i couldn't find if requests are open, sorry if they're closed rn. can i request some composer, orpheus and painter x fem/gn reader fluff?

DATE NITE!

( composer , novelist & painter ) + gn!reader

˙✧˖°🍓 ༘ ⋆｡˚ modern/celeb. au ?? , chars. are considered pretty big in the fine arts department + the world pretty much , silly little dates w/ them , ooc a bit , lower case intended , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

mundane dates for people with too much on their plate.

꒰wc꒱ 1 k

THE COMPOSER ; FREDRICK KRIEGBURG

♫ | when it comes to going on dates with the musician, he much rather prefers something more secluded. something personal between the two of you. that’s why he [politely] turns down any offers on going out to things that are known for having big crowds, like festivals or loud concerts.

♫ | it’s the little things that count to fredrick, truly. the homemade dinner has been platted and served along with dimly lit candles and rose petals scattered across the floor. it’s so romantic and fredrick can’t help but feel so loved by you.

♫ | you’ve got music playing in the background as well. and, once you finish your meal, the two of you sway and dance to the song. the composer kisses your lips and for once, it feels like it’s just you and him, and he wishes he could do this with you every night.

the composer looks at you with playful contempt. “is this my song you're playing?”

you throw your head back in laughter. “of course it is silly, I’d be mad if I didn’t play at least one of your songs tonight.”

♫ | eventually, your dancing leads you to freddrick’s piano in the living room. you sit next to him as he plays you his newest creation. it’s a masterpiece, you tell him, followed by the question of what he’ll name it. fredrick chuckles to himself before revealing to you that it’ll be named after you.

“[name]’s symphony, doesn’t that sound delightful?”

THE NOVELIST ; “ORPHEUS” DEROSS

♪ | orpheus, similar to fredrick, likes to keep things personal. not the biggest fan of crowds, but he’s been in the middle of a few big ones due to book signing. he’s not too picky about what dates you guys go on and enjoys most if not all of the outings you plan together.

♪ | so what’s better than a coffee date followed by book shopping? well, lots of things in reality. orpheus definitely participated in extravagant and expensive activities thanks to his earned riches. but a coffee date makes everything feel normal again, a simpler time when he wasn’t flooded with the need to release the next great book. it’s a great way to spend time with you, he thinks.

♪ | the date is filled with hushed whispers and silent giggles as the two of you browse the library, steaming hot coffees in hand. or maybe it’s hot chocolate in your hand. you're too distracted with reading the back of another book to let him have a better look at your drink.

↳ going to a bookstore as a date was more of a “kill two birds with one stone” kind of deal. you knew that it would be a nice way to spend time together without doing anything too grand, and orpheus gets to look for new inspiration. plus, you get to see if any best sellers catch your eye.

“ooooo I like the sound of this book! I think I’m gonna snag it for myself.”

“lemme see, I can probably get it for you.” [he’s going to steal in and read it himself when you’re not looking]

♪ | you expect him to be engulfed in the books around him, flipping through the pages and seeing what other authors have put on display. instead, he looks at you with a type of fondness only you are graced with. he brings a thumb to your lip to wipe off the excess hot chocolate around your mouth. you smile and lean into his warm embrace.

“sorry, I'm too busy looking at you to notice any of the other books. let’s pick out some more together, ‘k?”

THE PAINTER ; EDGAR VALDEN

♩ | edgar valden is widely known for his skills when it comes to painting. he’s perfected everything, he’s mastered every medium, and his inspiration is seemingly endless. that’s what everyone thinks.

↳ edgar lets you in on probably one of his darkest secrets one night, lying in bed: he hasn’t mastered every single medium there is. his inspiration runs out quicker than most would think. and yes, he hasn’t truly perfected everything when it comes to the arts [mostly saying painting]. the reality of it all rains down on him with the pressure to fulfill such beliefs, but you let him know that it’s okay not to. no one should be expected to accomplish such a feat.

♩ | that’s why little dates like these are the ones he probably cherishes the most, despite how embarrassed and anxious he is walking into the art studio.

“they were 5 dollars a person! I thought it could be nice because we could both work on our art skills.”

“[NAME] WHAT IF SOMEONE NOTICES ME?!?!?”

♩ | that’s why he’s so nervous. the edgar valden, in a beginner's art class, learning how to make pottery? don’t the people expect more of him? you tell him no and that, they shouldn’t because he’s human.

↳ legit started hiding his face at the start of the session ‘cause he was so afraid someone would comment about him being here. you had to pry his hands away from his face.

♩ | it isn’t until maybe halfway through the class he starts to get the hang of things, and you're not far behind either. his beautiful, hand-crafted bowl looks stunning, you tell him. Well, not really. it looks more like a pinch pot, but you think it’s best to keep that to yourself.

↳ neither of you is good at pottery, and it just makes learning it that much more fun for the both of you. [edgar refuses to admit smh] he’s secretly dedicated to making a vase to replace the broken one in your apartment. he’ll paint it your favorite color and doodle your favorite flowers all across it. although, he can’t say that this is looking that much like a vase…

♩ | the two of you are complete messes at the end of it. colorful paint splattered across your face along with dried clay stuck and chipped off underneath your fingernails. you walk out having done your first of many pottery classes that day.

“thank you for planning this out. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, really.” edgar states before leaving a fleeting kiss on your cheek.

note: his my fishies…🤭🤭🤭 hope you all are having an amazing day / night. enjoy this short little request i got <3

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lynderman · 2 years

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𝘼 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙀𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 (Xavier Thorpe)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Date Published: 12/9/22

Synopsis: You’ve always been 2nd place. First place for losers. Attending Nevermore was supposed to change that.

A/N: (I was so confident writing this, and I feel like I went down a rabbit hole because some shit doesn't even make sense. So idk if it’s good or not. It also isn’t proofread 💀)

Part 2

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Vi, are you still free after fencing today? I thought I’d take you up on that offer and go down to Jericho to get-“

“Sorry. I told Wednesday I’d meet her in the nightshades library to look for a certain book.” My smile instantly vanished as he said her name. It’s not that I hate her, no. I could never. We’re best friends! Well, as close as best friends could be to Wednesday Addams. I didn’t have a reason to hate her; But I did have more than enough to be jealous. Ever since we were kids she’s always been able to one-up me.

It started with small things like getting better grades in school. Then to committing higher and bigger crimes. And it eventually reached the point where I felt like everyone in the family preferred her to me. Even my own dad! Her precious ‘Uncle Fester’, the only one who made her smile. He made everyone smile though. Every time he came home from one of his jobs, I’d get a pat on the head and Wednesday would get a hug. His niece got more love and affection from him than his own daughter did.

I thought maybe, just maybe when I came to Nevermore I’d be able to fit in. Be my own person! Make my own friends, be someone who I wanted to be. Not living in the shadows of my cousin; Being known as ‘The other Addams?’ Or ‘Wednesdays’ Cousin!’ And I was for a while. For a whole year I was just known as Me. I wasn’t compared to anyone or told to be better. In fact I was great! Fantastic, even.

I’d made captain of the fencing team, like aunt Morticia. I was first chair in almost all my classes. I had friends of my own and was always asked to hang out. People were interested in me. They wanted me for me. Especially Xavier. God, Xavier. He was drop dead gorgeous. His long hair that framed his face so perfectly. His hazel eyes so full of hope and warmth. The smile that was always on his face when I walked up to him or when we hung out. He made me feel so happy and appreciated. Just loved and seen. I would do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me!

Or so I thought.

The second that Wednesday showed up to Nevermore, any hopes I had of asking him out or just anything suddenly vanished. Like everyone else in my life, I was soon replaced by her darkening and compelling image. He became so infatuated with her. Our afternoon runs were taken away and replaced with him hanging out with her. He sat through and listened to her crazy theories all day and looked at her like she hung the stars herself. The same way he looked at me once.

My fists clenched my bag and I held back the urge to scream on the spot. Now the one time we were both free was taken away by her again? She wasn’t even a nightshade so that isn’t fair. “Have fun with that. I’ll be by the lake if you feel like I’m worth your time today.” My words seemed to get his attention because he finally looked up from his sketchbook. I caught a glimpse and saw it was an another drawing of Wednesday. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked off before he got the chance to. Or cry. Whichever came first at this point.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun shone directly onto my face as I continued to write down the finishing lyrics to my song. My plan for the day was to hang out with Xavier and show him my new music for my violin. He knew I played an instrument but he didn’t know what it was or that I sang. So I thought it’d be a good time to surprise him! But of course my plans were ruined thanks to Wednesday. Again.

Letting out a grunt of frustration, I threw my pen into the lake. “What’d the pen ever do to you?” My attention turned to Xavier’s voice behind me. I listened to the sound of the leaves crunch and stop before he sat down on my blanket beside me. I didn’t ask him to, but I always found it hard to be upset or angry with him. Peering over my shoulder he asked what I’d been writing. “Just some music. I was gonna go back to my dorm and see how it turned out.” He didn’t need to know I wanted him to go back with me.

“Really? Can I see it?” Hesitation filled my body but I still gave him the notebook. His hands flipped through my pages and the words. I prayed to god he didn’t under Latin. “You never told me you write music.” I shrugged and turned back to the lake. “You never bothered to ask.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We sat at the lake for a while and just talked. It was nice; Feeling like I got my old friend back. The way he laughed at each joke I made and seemed to be genuinely interested in my topics made me realize how hard I’d fallen for him again. “Speaking of hair-“ He reached out to twirl the white strand in my black head of hair between his fingers. “Did you just decide it was a cool fashion statement or something?” I laughed lightly and shook my head.

“No, no. Back in 6th grade I was doing a science experiment, Y’know the one where you dissect frogs right? I was cutting him open and i just electrocuted myself without realizing it. That’s when I found out I’m like my dad. The whole lightning and shit. But I can do this weird thing with weather too where-“ I paused when I realized I was getting off track. “Anyways. I zapped myself and some shit happened with my hair when I did. It was only this piece though.” Laughing I turned the other way and buried my head into my knees. “I’ve tried to dye it back but it never works. All the other kids would make fun of me and say I’d get cancer or go bald. I dunno why though, that doesn’t make sense.”

What didn’t make sense was that I was basically Trauma dumping on Xavier for no reason. All he asked about was my hair and got some sob story in return. There was silence for a moment. I knew I overshared and he’d think I’m just some attention whore. It took me by surprise when he put his hand on mine, making me turn to face him. “I think it’s cool. Makes you stand out.” The blush that spread across my face was inevitable. Like an idiot I asked: “Really?”

A smile broke out in his face as he nodded. “Do you still wanna go to Jericho? The shuttle leaves in about 20 minuets? We can go to the weathervane and maybe check out that new music store?” My stomach was filled to the brim with butterfly’s, warmth spreading throughout it. Play it cool, play it cool. Don’t freak out. Just say that sounds fun. “Yes! Of course. I’d love to.” I mentally face palmed myself with the joy in my voice. It felt like a movie moment. Was this him asking me out on a date? Xavier finally got the balls to be the one to initiate it? No thoughts were going through my mind as my body leaned closer to his, him doing the same.

I could smell his cologne and feel his breath on my face; A mere 6 inches between my lips and his. Just as mine were to meet his, a phone rang. His phone. He blinked and apologized before picking it up.

“Hello? Enid? Since when did you call me? No, I’m not. She was busy so I’m at the lake, hanging out with-“ Xavier paused as Enid’s voice rose over the line, his brows furrowing as she spoke. I couldn’t hear what was going on. “Yeah, sure. Give me 7-8 minuets and I can. The quad or the courtyard? Mhm, sure.” He lowered his phone and hung up. “What’d Enid call about?” Standing up he began to brush himself off. “Wednesday asked her to call me since she doesn’t ‘want to be a slave to technology’. Said something about her finding a new lead on the monster and to meet her in the nightshades library.”

“But didn’t you earlier?” He shook his head. “No, she needed to do something else and talk to someone.” My lips pursed and watched as he grabbed his sketchbook from beside my bag. “Can we uh- rain check on Jericho?” All the butterflies and warmth my stomach were replaced with dread and insect repellent. “Again?” I muttered. “It’s nothing personal, I just need to-“

“No it never is with you is it? I mean do you even care about anyone or anything other than Wednesday?” The words left my mouth before I could process what I said. “Sorry?” Now I was standing up, arms crossed as I spoke. “Sorry? Oh shut up; Stop playing dumb. We both know you’re not so don’t try to bullshit your way out of this.” He took a step closer to me and looked down, irritation and confusion clouding his eyes. “What’re you talking about? What’s this even coming from? Why’re you getting so worked up about us hanging out?” Scoffing I took a step back from him.

“I’m getting worked up about this because you hang out with her all the time and not me! I’m constantly being ditched and put to the side cause you wanna go waste your time who doesn’t give a single fuck about you!”

“Don’t say that. She does but just act-“

“Acts distant and cold? Stand-offish and uninterested? She’s like that with everyone. What makes you think you’re any different to her? Do you think you’re special or some shit? Wednesday’s been like this her entire life and she’s certainly not going to change for some moron of a dude.” Xavier’s face only showed confusion as I spoke. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you can’t put two and two together? Wednesday Addams; (Y/n) Addams? How many Addams’s in this school do you know? If you named more, I wouldn’t be surprised since you seem to pay attention to everyone else other than me.” “Not everything is about you (Y/n).” He snapped.

“You’re right. It’s not! It’s always about Wednesday. Everything is. It’s always ‘Oh, have you seen Wednesday? I’m looking for her.’ Or ‘Do you wanna see this new drawing of her? It looks better than the last!’ Anything that comes out of your mouth is about her! Have you ever noticed how you put me next to her? Below, If you will. She plays cello and you draw her. I play violin, but you never bothered to ask because you’re too busy talking about how good she sounds. You go with her to Jericho to get coffee while I’m left behind doing schoolwork. Everywhere I go I’m beneath her. I’m compared to her, I’m belittled because I’m not as edgy or mysterious as she is. My family seems to like her more too. My own father loves her more than me! Can you imagine that, Xavier? Having to live in the shadow of your little cousin because she’s so much better than you at everything? I thought the name I made for myself at Nevermore would stick! I’d have my own friends and interests and not be known as the other Addams girl. I thought that I could get away and have shit of my own! BUT NO. I CAN’T.”

The air around me felt chilly and vast, a small breeze inclining as my voice got louder. “But it’s never going to happen. Everyone will always choose her over me. I’ll always be second to her. And it’s not fair. It’s not. I try to hard at everything. Especially when making friends. I’m almost on my knees trying to get people to approach me but she just has to stand and glare at people and suddenly they’re wrapped around her finger. Like you. You’re just another string waiting to be pulled by her; Following and doing what she says like a lost puppy. You look at her with such admiration and longing in your eyes. Maybe if you turned your head the other way and fixed your eyesight, you’d see that’s how I look at you! If you weren’t so fucking blinded by her borderline manipulative tendencies you’d notice I’m the way with you you are with her.”

My hands were moving with immense exaggeration as I spoke. The feeling of static shooting through my veins when I threw them down to my sides in anger. “Look, I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about this and-“ A short circuit of lighting extended from my fingers when I held my hand up to him. “This isn’t a two way conversation right now. It’s one where you listen to every word I say because that’s all I’ve ever done for you, especially ever since Wednesday’s gotten here-“

Speak of the devil, and she’ll arrive. Looking to my left I could see her standing a few feet away from us. “I think your feelings for Xavier are getting in the way of our goal, (Y/n).” I deadpanned. “Our goal?” She didn’t answer my question, only asking another one in its place.

“How would your father feel if he knew you were letting your emotions get the better of you?”

“Gee, I dunno. Why don’t you ask him since he was with you early in the nightshade’s library!” She said nothing. “He finally shows up after being on the run again and stops to say hi! Not to his daughter, but his niece.”

“It’s not my fault if Fester approached me and not you.”

“It’s never your fault is it? Nothing ever is. You’re just perfect Wednesday who’s above all others. Especially her cousin who’s done everything in her power to help her with her bullshit conspiracies. I’ve been on your side since day one. Believing in your shit when no one else would. And how do you thank me? By stealing the few people I have In my life away from me. Again and again. It’s a never ending cycle. And I never bother to break it because we’re family, Wednesday.” The overwhelming emotion of anger and hatred died down, the slight breeze fading completely. Now it was just cold and quiet. Water began to drop onto my clothes and belongings. When I looked up I realized It was raining; But only on me. As cliché as it sounds, there was a small storm cloud hovering above my head. Hence the weather thing I was telling Xavier about earlier.

“Do you know what you struggle with, (Y/n?).” Laughing, I faced Wednesday again. “No, but I’d love to hear your piercing insight on it!” “You don’t know when to turn your emotions on and off. You let them consume and confuse you. How you’re just a fool with a slow heart; Putting out love for others only to never get any back.” The rain became heavier as she spoke, each drop hitting harder against my face. “I understand that emotions are a foreign concept for you, Wednesday, but you don’t have a right to talk about mine if you don’t have any.” Is what I’d like to have said. But it isn’t. It was more along the lines of:

“Maybe you’re right. I do love too much because no one has ever given me any. I hope that one day you’ll think about all of the love I’ve given you, and maybe feel generous to reciprocate it.” Turning from her I grabbed my bag off the now drenched blanket and sling it over my bag. “The same goes for you, Vi. When you come to your senses and realize that I have and will still do anything to get a small sliver of your validation or time, my dorm room door will be open.” I meant to passive aggressively hand him his sketchbook back, but it was really just me shoving it into his chest. I didn’t dare look back at the two as I literally stormed off into the forest.

The sun still was shining around me even as I made my way back to the courtyard, through the quad, and up to my dorm. The cloud only got bigger when I was alone in my dorm room. Sitting in my shower I thought. Thought about how Wednesdays’ right. Despite ending up with nothing, I’ll still give everyone else everything I’ve never gotten in hopes someone will one day do the same.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#xavier thorpe #x reader #netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe x reader #angst #fanfic #reader insert #wednesday #enid sinclair #xavier thorpe x you

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mando-fando · 1 year

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The Other Man

Okay, here's my FIRST FIC in ages. I wrote it in a very specific style bc of the ~vibe~

Hope you like it!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, established relationship, (idk if there's more pls tell me?)

The love story of Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara

You’re Gabriella’s mother and Miguel’s wife. A few weeks ago, things were a little off with your husband; you wrote it off until now…

Your heart pounded in your chest as you set a timer on your phone and waited. You thought of your darling daughter, and her bubbly, beautiful personality. You thought of your family, and how arguably perfect your life was thanks to your husband’s dedication and tenacity.

You were panicking, on the verge of tears as the timer silently counted down on your phone screen. You thought of your husband. Your real husband.

13yearsago

Miguel was the first person you’d met at your college orientation. A tall lanky kid who stepped onto the campus tour bus at the last minute and had nowhere to sit but next to you. You felt yourself fall for him instantly when his eyes met your own.

You both chatted awkwardly like teenagers do; you mentioned your majors (he was genetics and you were communications), you talked about your high schools, your friends, and anything else your distracted minds could come up with.

You mentioned that science wasn’t your strong suit, and Miguel suggested taking a science class together so he could be your lab partner. You settled on chemistry, and looked forward to starting classes in the fall.

You exchanged numbers and texted through the rest of the summer. By the time the semester started, you were attached at the hip.

The week that you moved into the dorms, he brought you a bouquet of carnations (you were allergic to roses) and asked you to be his girlfriend right in front of everyone. You said yes with bright pink cheeks.

That night, when all the new freshmen were out enjoying welcoming activities, you and Miguel lost your virginities to each other with soft music playing in the background. You’d heard from your friends that the first time was awful, but you two were slow with each other. You knew you’d chosen the right guy, and you couldn’t imagine sharing the experience with anyone else.

It rained on the first day of classes. Torrential downpour, and you walked into the library together soaked and giggling to take a picture in front of your school’s “Welcome Freshmen!” backdrop.

That photo was framed and hanging above your bed like many others you’d taken over the years.

The chemistry class was hard. Your hardest class by far, but Miguel was there with you every week. He came over to your dorm after the lab to explain everything in detail as many times as you needed. He’d stay late and you’d share cheap pizza and watch movies.

Your friends started calling you Mrs. O’Hara long before you were actually married. You two were the one constant couple among them. You and Miguel would go for ice cream with them after every fresh heartbreak. You reminded them that love exists because you two had it. They’d always lick their wounds and get back out there, thanking you both for your encouragement.

When sophomore year rolled around, your parents offered to rent you an apartment. You begged for them to let Miguel live with you (they loved him of course), and, to your surprise, they said yes.

In between classes, you and Miguel lived in domestic bliss. You had no idea that building furniture, grocery shopping late at night, and decorating could be so fun. He made it so much more enjoyable.

You learned so much about him, sometimes swearing that you knew him better than you knew yourself. You loved how his brow twitched in his sleep, and you loved how he was considerate enough to cover your face with the blanket before he turned on the bedroom light. He made your heart melt every single day, and you couldn’t imagine loving someone more.

You stayed up late on Sundays with him and proofread his papers. He was brilliant, but he couldn’t string together a sentence on paper to save his life.

“Do you even know what a comma is!?” You’d asked as you aggressively hit the backspace button on his laptop.

“Do you know what an autosome is?” He replied in a sarcastic voice, ruffling your hair. (he always ruffled your hair.)

You rolled your eyes and finished proofreading his paper. After he submitted it, he closed both of your laptops and bent you over the table. Your pajama pants were around your ankles as you moaned into the cheap veneer.

Miguel fucked you on every surface in that apartment: the shower, bent over the counters and the table, against the wall, on the floor. It was your space together, and he was ready to claim the 600 sqft and your body for himself.

God, you missed that apartment.

A year later, you took your first vacation alone together to Mexico. You’d never been, but he’d gone a few times when he was younger. You felt secure with him as he easily switched between English and Spanish, and you listened intently as he showed you the places that he remembered visiting years prior.

You walked along the beach, hand in hand watching the sunset. He was explaining something about the tides, and you smiled wide at him and then looked at the pinky-purple sky.

When you looked back, he was on one knee with a ring box. You swear your heart stopped for a moment.

“Yes! Are you kidding me!? Yes!” you nearly screeched at the top of your lungs. He swung you around and dipped you into a kiss. It felt like a scene from a movie. (The only thing he hadn’t thought of was a photographer, but some passersby took a few candid photos and sent them to you.)

A year later, you graduated in May and had your wedding in June. The wedding felt like something out of a fairytale.

Your mother had been insistent on every last detail being perfect, and you were so grateful for her meticulousness as you walked down the aisle. The sun was beginning to set as you said your vows, and you nearly died of embarrassment when he tore your garter off with his teeth in front of everyone.

Now, Miguel was your husband.

Your husband whose eyes were brimming with tears as you walked down the aisle.

Your husband who hugged your parents as if they were his own.

Your husband who looked at you as if you hung the moon.

Your husband.

A few months later, you started your first job and Miguel started grad school.

You’d come home in your blazers and slacks and heels, and he’d give you a particular look.

“What are you looking at?” You asked one day while making dinner.

“Nothing, I just think it’s hot that I’m married to a sexy businesswoman,” he grinned.

He especially loved when you wore tights and that little black dress. (He usually tore them off of you when you got home and promised to buy you new ones.)

Six months into your new job, you called in sick.

“Are you alright?” he sat on your side of the bed and pet your hair gently.

“I just feel so nauseous. It must be something I ate. Do you feel nauseous?”

He shook his head. “Do you want me to get you anything? I could stay home from classes to take care of you.”

“No, school is first. I’ll be okay.” you squeezed his hand.

He kissed you on the forehead and left you a glass of water on your nightstand.

After throwing up the contents of your stomach twice over, a thought crossed your mind.

You ran to the store and picked up two pregnancy tests.

You practically ripped them out of their boxes in your bathroom.

You sat and waited, worrying about what your husband would say.

In both of your minds, kids were still years away.

The pink plus signs on both tests brought you to the harsh reality that those plans were no longer relevant.

Your mind flooded with worry. You were a newbie at your job, you hadn’t even been married for a year, Miguel had so much school left.

You spent the afternoon drowning in your anxiety.

“Amor, I brought you that soup that you like.” Miguel called from the living room. He found you in your bedroom with a tear-stained, puffy face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You turned around and showed him the tests. “What are we going to do?!” you cried. You searched his face, waiting to see his brow crease with worry just like yours.

Instead, he beamed. His face lit up brighter than the sun, and you felt every awful scenario that you’d tortured yourself with melt away at his excitement. He hugged you without saying a word, one of his amazing bear hugs that he knew always made you feel better. You petted his hair, and you knew everything was going to be just fine.

He pulled back from you and you saw tears sliding down his face. “This is amazing,” he whispered.

You kissed his cheek and hugged him again.

“Yeah, it really is, huh?” you whispered back.

There was no better word for your pregnancy than miserable. Your morning sickness lasted longer than the first trimester, and despite being young, you experienced health issue after health issue.

You were bedridden for the last few months of pregnancy, but your husband made it all better.

Your husband who somehow had boundless energy when you had none. Your husband who nearly tripled his class load to graduate early.

Your husband who held your hair back as you emptied the breakfast he made you into the toilet.

Your husband who put on over 100 pounds of muscle so he could ‘be strong enough for the baby.’

Your husband whom you somehow fell even more in love with, which you didn’t even think was possible.

He received his master’s degree in May. You felt enormous, but you begged him to let you take him out to celebrate.

Your water broke in the restaurant.

He rushed you out, you’re not even sure if you paid for the food. He drove you to the hospital as you squeezed his hand with all your might and swore at him.

After making it to the hospital in record time, your doctors looked at you sympathetically.

Of course, after an extremely rough pregnancy, you were going to have a rough delivery too.

Hours and hours of labor and deliberating. Hours of worry and discontentment. Hours of pain and exhaustion.

Everyone eventually decided that a c-section was the way to go. You stared up at the ceiling as your body was being sliced and poked and prodded, and your husband held your hand and gave you words of encouragement.

A loud cry broke through your anxious thoughts. The entire world stopped.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara, it’s a girl; 10 fingers and 10 toes and a great head of hair!” the doctor plopped her on your chest.

In that moment, you three were the only ones in the entire universe. Your baby, your husband, and you. Nothing had ever been more perfect.

Hours later, after you’d gotten some much needed rest and food, you both gazed down at her sleeping face. “We never even had time to talk about names,” Miguel whispered. He ran a gentle finger over her tiny little hand. Your heart swelled for him even more.

“I was thinking…” you started, “Maybe we could name her Gabriella, after your brother?”

You heard him gasp quietly. You began to open your mouth to suggest something else. “It’s perfect. She looks like a Gabriella, don’t you think?” he never took his eyes off of her.

“She looks like an O’Hara,” you chuckled. “Of course, she lived in my body for 9 months and came out looking like you.”

Despite all the trouble she gave you during your pregnancy, Gabriella was such an easy baby. She slept through the night, she was easy to feed, and she was always content to sit with you.

Those first few weeks of parenthood were surreal. You and Miguel would simply stare at her for hours, unsure how you made such a precious, perfect thing. She mesmerized the both of you.

One evening, you were making dinner while Miguel fed her. His phone rang, and you overheard him in the living room.

“Yes, I’d be happy to accept the offer! You have no idea what this means for my family, thank you so much.”

He’d gotten a job at Alchemax. A fancy, well-paying job in his field.

“You know, I’ll be making enough that you can stay home with Gabi if you want,” he said after you’d put her to bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay with that? I can go back to work when my maternity leave is up - my parents offered to watch her during the day.”

He pulled you close, “I want you to get to spend time with our daughter. I want you to raise her, no offense to your parents.”

And so you did.

The time flew by. You two bought a house close to your parents, he bought you a new car for your birthday, and all of the sudden, your daughter was turning one.

Your house was filled with friends from college (many now with their own spouses), relatives, and friends from Miguel’s new job and your old one.

You all watched as Gabriella smashed a white cupcake straight into her thick black hair. You and your husband sat together with your bubbly baby girl and opened present after present, making a mess of the wrapping paper.

Suddenly, time was moving even faster. Preschool, kindergarten, soccer practice, family vacations. Miguel had the biggest soft spot for your daughter.

Watching him be a parent made your heart grow ten times bigger. He woke up before the sun rose every day so he could be home to put her to bed every night.

He read to her, he answered every question she had and never discounted her curiosity.

He made it to every practice and soccer game, and took the whole team out for ice cream periodically.

He let you sleep in late on Sundays and made pancakes and coffee.

He was perfect. There was no other way to describe it.

Suddenly, your daughter was 8 years old. She was constantly outgrowing her clothes, reading voraciously, and performing well in school. Her teachers and coaches praised your parenting to no end. You and Miguel smiled, “She’s just the most amazing kid.”

You felt on top of the moon. You couldn’t believe that you’d stressed so much all those years ago in that little apartment when you’d seen the positive pregnancy test.

Everything seemed right with the world. At least until a few weeks ago.

Your husband wasn’t home yet. You checked your phone incessantly, but you never received a call or text.

You got through bedtime with your daughter. She asked three different times where her father was.

After she was sound asleep, you began to get worried. You called his phone again and he didn’t answer.

A sickly feeling bubbled in your gut. Not the churning anxiety that you’d felt so many times before, this was different. This felt like intuition. Something was terribly wrong.

You texted everyone you knew asking if they had heard from him. You called the businesses that you thought he could be at. No one. It was like he had fallen off the face of the Earth.

Just after 2am, you considered calling the police. As you began to dial, you heard a key turn in the lock.

He walked in looking disheveled. You ran over to him and jumped into his arms.

“I was so worried! Where were you!?” you squeezed him tight around his neck.

“I’m sorry, we got caught up in a chem testing sequence. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about the project, so that’s why they said I wasn’t there.” He kissed your cheek and squeezed you.

“You smell weird,” you said. He had such a distinct smell, a combination of the laundry detergent you used, his cologne, and his deodorant. He smelled all wrong for some reason.

He looked you in the eyes and smiled. You’d never noticed how his smile was just the slightest bit crooked.

“Let’s take a shower, amor.” He set you back on your feet. “I want to go take a peek at Gabriella, though. I’ll meet you in the bathroom,” he kissed you on the forehead and made his way to her room.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something was off about your husband that evening. At first, you blamed his late night. He claimed that his workload in the lab was increasing, but something still didn’t sit quite right with you.

You’d stare at him out of the corner of your eye, not sure what you were hoping to see.

He’d found a new interest in your sex life, as well. He pawed at you in your sleep and pressed your cheek up against the shower door late at night. He seemed like he was learning your body all over again.

In some ways, he was the man you married. He still threw himself into parenting your daughter. He still made it to every soccer practice and game, still read to her every night.

But you knew something was wrong.

Your best guess was that he was cheating, but it seemed so out of character for him. Still, you had nothing else.

He came home late again and found you sitting in the bedroom with your bedside lamp on. “You’re still up?” he asked.

“What the hell is going on with you?” You demanded.

His brows knitted together in a confused look, “What do you mean?”

“Are you cheating on me, Miguel?”

“Amor, I would ne-”

“Then what is it?” Your voice was low with suspicion.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He sat next to you and leaned in close.

“I don’t know what it is, Miguel. But something’s not right. I know you, and I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” You flipped the light off and pulled the covers up.

“I love you, honey. Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” he said in the darkness.

“Whatever, Miguel. I’m going to sleep,” you turned away from him and shut your eyes.

The timer on your phone went off.

You thought again about your husband.

Your husband who brought you roses yesterday.

Your husband who couldn’t remember what size jersey your daughter wears.

Your husband who’d had a vasectomy 5 years ago.

You stared at the positive pregnancy test and sobbed.

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