#I try to imagine a pair of boots on my feet to see if im dreaming of nor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst @blue-writes-a03 @max--phillips

#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

642 notes · View notes

t-lostinworlds · 4 years

Text

Not Going Anywhere (Tom Holland)

a/n: finally! lmao. gosh, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and im scared lol. also, i’m sorry for the lack of fics recently, i’ll try and be better with it. anyway, i’m not going to babble any more asdfghjkl hope you guys enjoy this one!

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader warnings: emotional scene, blood (fake), gun shots (kinda fake), character death (very fake lmao), lots of crying, and tom just being a wholesome boyfriend. word count: 7.5k+ requested:

first off, thank you angel! 💓 you’re too sweet omg 🥺 requests are a bit tricky for me ‘cause it depends if i get inspo or not but i did with this one haha so second, i’m so sorry this took soooo long. i hope i did it justice and that you like it love!

masterlist on bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

It was the last scene of the day but neither you nor Tom were too keen on it. Both of you read the script, of course you knew this was a long time coming. This scene has been sitting in the back of your heads from the moment you both decided to take on the roles but still, it never really does prepare you mentally no matter how much you try.

Death scenes are always tricky to shoot, depending on what the undertone is. It can be a slightly easy one, the death of an enemy in which you'd channel relief, pride, a sense of accomplishment—maybe even in a sadistic, evil sense, happiness and joy. Or it can go around the hard route, the death of someone you love. There are so many ways you could go about it, so many emotions you can tap into. You can have regret, guilt, hurt, sadness, anger, fear, loss, and the list goes on.

It would've been easier to act it out with a regular colleague or a friend, easier to separate from reality and to snap out of it when they call cut. It'd be less daunting if that was the case. But when it's done with someone who you love off screen, a person who you can't ever imagine a world without, to get your mind to a place where you'd have to picture losing them, then it gets even trickier, much, much harder.

Couples don't usually do movies together that often, it can become unprofessional as some would say, but that wasn't the case with you and Tom. Both of you have been praised so many times with your individual works as you two can stand alone and carry a role with nothing but award winning performances. But whenever you two share a screen together, then it's an even bigger force to be reckoned with.

It's always a director's dream to work with you individually and as a pair. You were a match made in heaven off and on screen, the one-take-wonder duo. You two just bounce off each other so well no matter the roles you play, may it be enemies, acquaintances, lovers, past lovers, co-workers, and so on. You two share a look and it all clicks, then everything just falls into place.

You two get it done right away in the right way.

You love working with Tom, love seeing him do his thing in the flesh and you enjoy watching all the breathtaking and raw performance he gives. Plus, you get to spend time with your man, a gift with how conflicting your schedules can get sometimes. Not to mention, you get to do what you love together, a fun time on set as you make the most out of it while staying at the top of your game, be each other's cheerleader while maintaining proper professionalism.

But when it's heavy and emotional scenes like this upcoming one, you do find yourself wishing that it wasn't with him.

"How do I look? Still gorgeous I hope," Tom joked the moment you entered the set, posing over dramatically with one hand on his head, the other on his jutted out hip and a duck face to match, sporting his dirt—with specks of blood—covered and torn outfit. What he wore was a white shirt, black pants, black boots and a gray coat combo. While you on the other hand, wore dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a gray zip up hoodie that was fully open and a black leather jacket over it.

On a normal day, his silliness would've made you roll your eyes with a laugh, but today, it didn't even manage to make you crack a smile. In fact, a frown made its way onto your lips at the sight of him all dirtied up, a purple bruise under his left eye, a couple gashes on his cheek and a cut on his bottom lip to complete his beat-up look.

"Stop trying to ruin my Zen," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout on your lips. It was already dark inside your mind, emotions at the ready for when they call action. And seeing him be his dorky self, trying his best to make you laugh, just being the sweet boy who owns your heart, it wasn't at all helpful in a sense that with what's coming, it makes you think what life would be like if those adorable traits of his would become a memo—

"I'm not," Tom chuckled softly as he slowly made his way over to you. Once he reached a close proximity, his warm palm found its way to rest on your cheek. His touch was gentle, thumb caressing your skin comfortingly, a loving smile making its way onto his lip as he kept his gaze steady on your troubled face. "Just making sure you don't get too into your head, darling."

Tom's eyes held nothing but utter concern because he knows you like the back of his hand, knows how you work. With actors, it's always taxing mentally and emotionally when it comes to scenes like this, but with you, there's an added weight. Because, one, you always go that extra mile, to dig much deeper into your thoughts, to make your brain work harder at channeling emotions on command and in a quick switch. That's what made you known to be such an incredible actress, pure talent mixed with hard work of course.

And two, you were doing the scene with him, your real life lover. For you to see his face and watch him slowly wither away, Tom can't even stomach the thought of what you could possibly be feeling, what kind of thoughts were swimming inside your head. He can't even begin to imagine if it was the other way around. He absolutely admires your strength for holding it together because if it was him, he would've already been balling before he could even get out of his trailer.

With that said, Tom was worried to the bone. It always pains him to see the struggle you go through to get your mind there. He hates seeing you in a state that wasn't pure happiness, even if it was all acting.

"It's really hard not to," you whispered, flashing him a small smile as you leaned into his touch. Tom's heart broke at the soft shake in your voice, a sigh coming out of his lips as he moved closer to press it against your forehead. His strong arms found their way around your form to give you the warmest hug he can muster without getting all the dirt and the little bit of fake blood he had on him, on you.

"I know, angel, I know," he whispered against your skin, giving your waist a gentle and loving squeeze that made you close your eyes with a shaky breath.

Tom has had a fair share of tough, emotional scenes, of course he understood. Some of them were even done with you, though none were as tragic and heavy as to what lies ahead.

He knows how hard it is to not let those dark thoughts cloud most of your mind. He's been guilty of failing at it a couple of times. Some scenes just affected him in real life before he could stop it. Tom so badly didn't want you to experience the same. He doesn't want you to go far too deep for the sake of your mental state, especially with how much worse this scene is going to be compared to previous stuff you've done. But there's not much he can do other than to be there for you to help you get through it and to make sure to snap you out of it before it gets way out of hand.

"You two ready to go?" Jessica, the director, interrupted with a sympathetic smile. You unwillingly broke away from Tom's embrace to give her a small nod.

"Don't think I'll ever be ready but let's get this over and done with," you breathed out. She watched the two of you for a moment, the gloominess in the atmosphere too obvious for anyone to miss. It's always like that with emotional scenes, the set catered to help the actors be in the zone, but it's a lot heavier this time around. When it's a real life couple, the difference is huge.

With a soft, understanding smile, she reached over to you and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Two more minutes and then we start." Jessica nodded at the both of you curtly. You and Tom flashed her grateful smiles to which she gladly returned.

Once she walked away, Tom's gaze landed back on you, slight dread and concern glowing in his eyes but a reassuring grin played on his lips. He was trying his best to stay calm about it, even though he wasn't looking forward to it as well. He just didn't want to add more to your already worrying mind by looking too frantic with his concern.

"Come here and give me one last kiss."

"Don't say it like that," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his choice of words weren't exactly the best.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, darling," Tom rushed once he realized how it sounded like, rubbing your arms comfortingly and giving it a gentle squeeze, silently urging you to look at him. Once you opened your eyes and met his gaze again, he tilted his head to the side with an adorable pout. "Can I have a kiss? Pwetty please?"

You shook your head at your man with a sigh, the corners of your lips lifting just a little as you met him halfway for a short but sweet, loving kiss.

"You've got this, okay?" he whispered once you pulled away, his breath hot against your lips as the tip of his nose nudged yours tenderly. You flashed him a small yet thankful smile, nodding in response before leaning close again to give him a quick peck.

"Places you two!" Jessica called out.

Tom's hands found yours, his fingers delicate as he lifted them up to his lips, a kiss on each of your knuckles and another reassuring squeeze before he lets you go.

You treaded your way towards your first marker, Tom's just a couple feet behind you. You looked over your shoulder in hopes to find his eyes before everything starts, a wash of relief coating your body once you saw that it was already set on you. You two shared a look, Tom flashing you one of his many charming grins—one that you adore so much—in reassurance, throwing in a thumbs up as he put his right foot forward. You did just the same, only breaking his gaze when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder.

You turned to one of the crew who handed you a Glock filled with blanks, a soft thanks escaping your lips followed by a deep intake of breath. You closed your eyes before exhaling slowly, clenching and unclenching your fist around the gun as you slowly slipped into character.

The two of you were undercover agents, partners turned recent lovers to be specific. The start of the scene was that you've just managed to get Tom out from his unfortunate capture, the abandoned warehouse where he was kept and you just escaped from, situated behind. You've managed to take out all the guys in the warehouse together but you have no idea if someone had called in backup so it was needed and safer to get as far away from the place as soon as possible. Hence why you two are going to be running from point A to B. But once you reach point B, then the scene happens.

"Ready and action!"

You took on a sprint, chest heaving as you kept looking back to make sure Tom was following. He was running just loosely behind you, a slight limp in his movements given that he isn't in the best of conditions due to the kidnapping.

"Come on!" You slowed down a little to wait for him, offering out a hand for him to take. He was so close to reaching it when his gaze shifted from your hand to somewhere behind you, eyes widening at the sight.

"Look out!" Tom exclaimed, hand quick to grab your outstretched one to pull you into his body. Both his arms wrapped around you tightly as he turned around in one swift motion so that your places were now switched. Then you heard five deafening gun shots, Tom's body jerking the same number of times before he slowly leaned forwards, his body getting heavier as his weight slowly rested more on you.

"No!" you shrieked, one hand wrapping around his torso as you lifted the other one hurriedly to aim your gun at the armed person behind him, pulling the trigger a couple of times to let loose of the blanks. You heard a thud next, an indication that the person has been taken care of.

Tom's whole body slumped, you struggling to hold his weight as he gradually slipped from your grasp, your heart beating rapidly against your chest when you felt something damp coat your fingers that were rested on his back. Your gaze landed on his face with wide eyes, calling out his character's name a few times as you tried your best to let him down on the pavement as gently as you can manage.

Tears welled up in your orbs, your throat closing up as you kneeled beside his body, anxiously checking to see what was wrong even though you already knew that everything was wrong. You took off your jacket hurriedly, bunching it up and placing it under his head for support. A sharp pain squeezed at your heart at the sight of him struggling to breathe, coughing out blood while he willed his eyes to stay open, his white shirt slowly turning crimson.

"No, no, no," you croaked, letting go of the gun to cup his face, fingers trembling as you tried to keep his head steady. Frantically, you reached into your pocket with your free, blood-covered, shaking hand, taking out the phone and hastily dialed zero to send out a distress signal.

Tom lets out a groan laced with pain as his eyes scanned your face, muttering out your character's name to get your attention, voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm right here," you whispered as you met his brown orbs, a soft smile on your lips as you dropped the phone so you can tend to him with both hands. You brushed away the hair that managed to stick on his sweat-littered forehead, his blood from your hand tainting his crown, not the best of sights to see.

Tom's eyes started to gloss up as he kept letting out ragged breaths. You let out a broken sob as the heartrending sound filled up your ears, squeezing agonizingly at each vein in your heart. "S-Stay with me, please," you stammered, his skin turning a bit colder against your warm palm, your breathing turning shallow as you struggled to keep your own self together.

"Help! Please help!" you wailed, looking around the empty place frantically before your gaze landed back on the man in your arms, life slowly slipping from his grasp. "You're going to be okay," you repeated over and over, unsure if the words were said to reassure him or yourself.

The feeling of your jeans getting wet at the knees from the blood that pooled on the ground made you let out a broken cry of despair, eyes scanning his body for only a moment, the sight of red making you want to hurl. And you were too scared to look away from his eyes for far too long, scared that things will take a drastic turn in a split second.

Slowly, weakly, Tom lifted a hand up to cup your damp cheek, thumb caressing your skin as a small, tired smile made its way onto his lips. This made you cry even harder, your nimble fingers curling around his wrist, turning your head slightly for a second to give his palm a warm kiss.

"R-Remember when I-I said I'd t-take a bullet for y-you?" he sputtered, though the smile on his lips was still there, charming as always, his thumb capturing the tear that escaped your eye before it could have the chance to land on your skin.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, shaking your head at his ability to make light of the situation. You let out a shaky breath. "I do, I remember. To prove how much I mean to you even when it's not necessary."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, running his thumb over your cheek, a few tears escaping his eyes as he scanned your gorgeous face distorted in utter distress, as he stared at the pain that glowed inside your beautiful orbs.

"N-No, there's nothing to apologize," you breathed out, your thumb grazing the apples of his cheeks as you stared right into those brown eyes you've grown to adore and more. "You saved me," you sobbed, flashing him a small smile laced with gratitude. "You saved me."

Tom nodded slowly with a hum, eyes staring right back at yours with the utmost adoration coating them, although in a few short seconds, it was quick to be replaced by worry. "You n-need to g-go," he hissed in pain, his hand grabbing your wrist to try and pry you away from him. It still wasn't safe to stay and he wanted nothing more than for you to be as far from harm, well and alive.

"No! I'm not leaving you here," you protested, a sob tied at the end of your sentence as you took his hand and placed it back on your cheek. And he held it there, channeling all the strength he had left for him to feel your skin for a couple moments more. "Help is on the way just, s-stay with me," you croaked.

Tom's breathing started to turn labored, his head falling back gradually as there was not much strength left for him to keep it still. "Hey! h-hey, look at me," you rushed, command in your tone as you went to hold his face with both hands, keeping his head steady only to see that his eyes were slowly fluttering close. "Keep those eyes open! Keep those eyes open," you said through gritted teeth, your man listening to your voice that was filled with desperation as he met your gaze again.

"P-Promise me—" Tom interrupted himself with a cough of blood, letting out a soft groan before his eyes were back on yours. "Promise me, y-you'll find h-happiness."

"N-no, don't say that, you're going to be okay." You shook your head desperately with a whimper.

"Promise me," he repeated, voice firmer this time.

Your bottom lip trembled. "I promise, just h-hold on, p-please," you choked. "Somebody! Please h-help! Please!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, urgently looking towards nothing, a sob following suit as your voice broke, hope slowly leaving you.

"H-hey, sweetheart, l-look at me," Tom called out as he tapped your cheek weakly. A whimper escaped your lips as you met his gaze once again, the emotion that shined in them so clear as day. He knows that it was time, and the certain look he was giving you made you understood. Although, you still shook your head in pure denial, muttering protests after protests under your breath as you gave his hand that rested on your cheek a tight squeeze while you kept the other steady on his face, horrified to let go even for a split second for he might be gone when you do.

"I love you," Tom breathed out, voice soft but the truth loud and clear. It was the first time he had uttered those three words, and you so wished it was done in a much, much more different circumstance. You leaned down to swiftly capture his lips in a bitter-sweet kiss, a sigh coming out of him only to be mirrored by a soft cry from you.

"I love you too, oh so much," you whispered to no one but him and him only, pulling away to meet his eyes, a certain glow now coating them at the sound of those lovely words filling up his ears. A satisfied smile made its way onto Tom's lips, his eyes locked with yours, glowing with utmost love.

But as Tom took in one deep, sharp breath, you held yours, only letting it out in a form of an excruciating sob once he completely stilled in your arms. His hand slowly slipped away from your face until it fell limp on his side, his chest laying flat, no more sign of any movement.

"No, no, no," you cried, tapping his cheek to get him to move again but to no avail. You shook your head frantically, your tears blurring your vision some more, heart in your throat as the droplets coated his face at a faster pace. "No! P-Please!" you screamed, cupping his face with trembling hands, letting go for a moment to hold his shoulder, shaking him harder in utter anguish. "C-Come back! P-Please! Come back to m-me." Your fingers found its way back to rest on his cheeks as you choked in short breaths, his eyes wide open but already dimmed, those bright, brown beautiful eyes somewhat turned gray.

"Don't leave me please," You croaked out, voice now hoarse from all the crying you've done. "I can't live without you. Please, come back to me," you whispered one last time, taking a few seconds more to stare at his face, looking at him as a flicker of hope coated your eyes for a split second before it completely died out. You dropped your head onto his chest and let out deep, broken sobs, choking in sharp breaths in between each sound that only made things more heart wrenching to hear.

It was so hard for Tom to keep his own tears at bay, a stinging, horrible feeling gripping at his chest as you cried your heart out. To watch the absolute hurt across your beautiful features, the desperation on trying to "bring him back" was too much of a painful sight to see. If he had a choice he would've opted on closing his eyes, but Jessica had specific instructions to keep them open, to make it more realistic, more effective in a sense that it would pull at the viewer's heartstrings a bit more.

But my God it was so hard to watch you be in so much pain and lay completely still, the heartbreaking sound of your sobs, the way you begged, it was absolute torture, especially when he can't do anything about it just yet. And the way your touch was frantic, desperate, it was hurting his heart harshly, agonizingly and he so badly wanted it to end because he can't take any more of just watching you go through so much pain. But most especially, he wanted it to end for your sake.

At the sound of your own cries, lungs burning with your head pounding, ears ringing, chest too tight and filled with utmost pain, you didn't even notice Jessica call out cut. The moment you knew it was all done was when you felt strong arms wrapping around your form that was still shaking with sobs.

"Hey, hey it's okay, it's over darling," Tom rushed as he sat up quickly, prying you away gently so you could meet his eyes. It broke his heart to pieces when he saw the hurt that still coated your orbs, though he was glad to see the relief slowly seeping back in once you blinked away the tears. You finally snapped out of it once you were able to take a good look at him, your bottom lip trembling as you tilted your head to the side, as if to examine if he was actually real. "I'm okay, see?" Tom hummed, voice gentle as he took both your hands and placed one on each of his cheeks, his skin warm against your touch. "I'm here my love."

All you could do was nod with a breath of relief, body falling forwards so you could sink into his arms, not a care in the world about the fake blood that drenched him. You just needed to be close to him.

Tom sighed as he pulled you tighter in his embrace, pressing his warm lip against your crown in the process. "Breath my darling angel, it's over," he murmured, followed by sweet nothings as his hand ran up and down your back comfortingly, your breathing slowly growing calmer at the tender sound of his voice.

You stayed like that on the ground for a minute, Tom only pulling away slightly when he heard footsteps approaching. "Do we need another take?" he asked dreadfully as he saw Jessica make her way over. He desperately didn't want you to go through that all again but it was out of his control. And if another take was needed, he's going to have to ask for an hour break, for your sake.

You lifted your head up just in time to see Jessica shake her head no, gesturing towards the both of you as satisfaction coated her face. "It's already the best for me. I mean, they call you two the one-take-wonder duo for a reason. And I've got tears in the crews' eyes to further prove my point." With a knowing look, she added, "But you two can watch it back if you like."

Tom turned to you, hand going up to wipe the couple more tears that littered your skin, touch sweet and reassuring. "Do you want to?" he asked softly.

You gave out a small nod. "Yeah, maybe I can do things better," you sniffled.

Tom scoffed loudly at that, gawking at you with wide eyes, taking full offence of your own words for you. "Are you kidding me? That was already amazing," he stressed. "Quit being so overly critical of yourself, darling," he added, taking both your hands in his comfortingly.

"Thank you bubba," you whispered, looking at him with an adorable pout, eyes glowing with the utmost gratitude that Tom felt his heart melt ten times over, especially with the nickname.

He flashed you a bright smile. "Now, let's get you off this wet floor." And that he did as he helped you up, pulling you in for another warm hug once you've got your feet under you.

Crew members quickly crowded you both as they helped you out of the now wet hoodie and coat, giving you each some water and two big, black warm jackets to compensate for the cold. You and Tom then made your way over to the director's chair right after.

You now stood beside Tom in front of the monitor as they started to play the clip back. Both your arms were fully wrapped around him, cheek pressed up against his chest as he slung his arm over your shoulder. His heart was turning soft at how adorable you were being, although he felt a sense of worry as well, since it seemed like you were scared to be too far away from him.

Even when they were fussing around the two of you, he saw how you kept giving him a glance, like you were scared to let him out of your sight. And once they were done, you were quick to grab his hand, as if you didn't want to feel the absence of his touch for far too long. So, he made sure to keep you as close as he can, giving you random kisses and squeezes in comfort from time to time, to reassure your mind that he was, in fact, here.

"Whew, look at you go," Tom praised, staring in pure awe at the monitor as he rewatched your performance, giving your arm a loving squeeze with a kiss on the forehead to match. "You make me look so talentless, love."

"Shut up," you said in pure disagreement given that his performance was breathtaking just as always. He did make things more real, made it hurt even more the way he portrayed dying so well. Your own performance improved because of his. As said in the beginning, you two just bounce off each other so well.

You peeked at the monitor for only short moments as you can't bear to watch it back fully, snuggling into him every once in a while with your eyes fluttering close. Tom was quick to notice this, giving you another peck on the forehead to remind you that it was okay, that things were alright. You hummed at his sweet gesture, squeezing his torso lovingly in return.

"Damn," Tom gushed once the clip ended, wiping away the stray tear that slipped with the back of his hand before turning to you with nothing but utter pride in his eyes. "And the Oscar goes to..."

"Stop," you whined, burying your face on his chest shyly, prompting a hearty chuckle from him.

"One-take-wonder duo I tell you," Jessica admired, giving you both claps on the back before she lifted up her megaphone. "That's a wrap everyone!"

Loud cheers and applause filled the air, Tom giving you a tight, warm hug as you both slowly relaxed in each other's embrace, glad that the day was almost over. You then made your way to where your teams were sat. Both of you were quick to notice how most of them were smiling proudly at the two of you with a bit of shine in their eyes.

"Harry," Tom gasped as soon as his brother came into view, Harry's face red with a faint sniffle coming out of him. "Were you crying?"

"No," the young lad grumbled, turning away in hopes to hide the way he wiped his face but still failing miserably.

"Oh Harry come here," Tom lets go of you for a moment to tackle his brother in a bear hug, making smooching noises as the older sibling tried to give the other a kiss on the cheek, Harry squirming like his life depended on it. You couldn't help the soft laugh from escaping your lips at the sight of the two boys, Tom's head perking up at the sound, a bit of relief coating his features as he tilted his head at you with a smile of his own.

"Get off you div," Harry groaned, pushing Tom away playfully, the older lad laughing before pulling away from him. "It's not my fault you two made it look so real. I genuinely thought Tom died for a second."

"Aw, thanks bro—"

"Correction, Y/N made it so real. The moment you started crying," Harry paused, blowing out his cheeks with a shake of his head, turning to you with both hands up in surrender. "I went."

"Thank you Harry." You shot the young lad a tired but grateful smile, giving him a quick but lovely hug.

"I'll let that pass for now because I do agree," Tom said, shooting his brother a playful glare before he made his way back to you, arms taking home around your waist as he looked at you adoringly. "You were incredible my love."

You smiled at him, leaning closer so you could give him a sweet kiss, just to show more of your gratitude. Tom hummed in pure satisfaction against your lips, giving your waist a tender squeeze before pulling away.

"Let's wrap up the day shall we?"

With that, the two of you made your way over to the wardrobe trailers to get out of the dirty work clothes and into comfier ones. Once out of the trailer, you now wore a pair of black leggings and Tom's pink hoodie to which he insisted on letting you wear over your tank top, given that it was starting to get colder out. He, on the other hand, wore his black sweatpants and a tight maroon t-shirt, handsome as ever but the make up on his face—the bruises, cuts, fake blood—were a bit of a distraction, feeding more thoughts to your still troubled mind.

"Come here, love." Tom beckoned you over once he noticed how you stared at him with a certain look in your eyes and a matching frown. His warm hands found yours, pulling you closer to him so he can give you loving kisses all over your face, all sloppy, loud and sweet. He only stopped when he was satisfied with the little giggles that escaped your lips. "Stop thinking too much, darling."

You flashed him a smile, nodding to say that you understood. "Are you not cold?" you asked in concern, slight guilt swimming in your orbs given that you somewhat stole his hoodie. Tom chuckled with a shake of his head, slinging his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to his side as you then made your way to the make-up trailers.

"As long you're here beside me? My human heater? Never."

***

It was finally time to get back to the hotel.

You and Tom sat at the very back of the van, your head rested on his shoulder while his head rested atop of yours. You've been nothing but silent the whole ride, Tom not pestering you much because he knows you were drained to the bone. He just gave you occasional squeezes on the thigh, his fingers sometimes drumming some random beat just to distract you a little for what was going on inside your mind.

The moment your shared hotel room door closed, lock clicking in the process, Tom dropped your bags on the floor with the loudest sigh of relief.

"Shower together?" Tom offered with a wriggle of his brows, jokingly of course as there was no malice in his intent. You both were too tired for it, a simple shower would suffice.

A sweet smile made its way onto your lips as you nodded, taking up on his offer.

Tom moved over to you to give you a short kiss, mumbling a 'wait here' against your lips before pulling away and disappearing into the bathroom. He came back out not long after sporting nothing but his black boxers, beckoning you over with an open palm to which you gladly took. Hot steam met your skin as you stepped inside the en suite, Tom stopping by the sink as he turned to face you.

"Arms up," he said, your brows furrowing in confusion but you did as told anyway. Once you have both hands in the air, Tom took hold of the hem of your—his—hoodie and lifted it up your body, a pout making its way onto your lips once it was off. He gave your jutted out lip a peck, chuckling at the slight confusion on your face before he went to take your tank top off next.

"I'm not a baby anymore Tom. And I didn't lose any limbs," you pointed out with a soft giggle, top-half now naked in front of him

"Says who? As far as I know, you're still my baby." He shrugged, hooking his fingers on the hem of your leggings and pulling them down—along with your underwear—until he was squatted on the floor. He tapped your thigh lightly, silently telling you to lift each leg up one by one so he can take off the fabric fully. Now, you were left completely bare for him. You looked down at your man and shot him a pointed look, Tom meeting your gaze through his eyelashes as he lets out a sweet chuckle.

"Just let me take care of you love, you've had a long day," he hummed, giving each of your thighs a chaste kiss before he stood back up to his full height. He just wanted to let other things occupy your mind instead, didn't want you to sit too long and think about the scene you just did. Plus, he really did want to just take care of you, to show you the utmost love and affection as you deserve nothing but all and more, especially after today.

Another sweet kiss landed on your lips before he got rid of his boxers next, taking your hand soon after as he guided you inside the glass shower box, pulling you right under the hot water. And take care of you was exactly what he did as he helped you wash up as well. You've told him a couple of times how he was being a bit much, especially when he stole the loofa off your hands to do it himself, shampooed and conditioned your hair. But he simply repeated the same thing over and over:

"Just let me take care of you."

A few more giggles and chuckles with a couple sprinkles of making-out later, you two got out of the shower and dried up. Then after that, Tom gave you one of his shirts to wear—paired with only your panties—and helped you blow dry your hair so you could take a quick nap, an easy breezy task for him since it was not the first time. He's done it before on various occasions.

Once you were soundlessly asleep—after a few more kisses from him as he tucked you in because yes, your boyfriend is extra—Tom took it upon himself to order in some food, that way you'd have something to eat when you wake up, knowing that you probably wouldn't want to go anywhere to have a meal. He sent Harry a text in the process saying that the two of you would be staying in for the night in case the team wanted to go out for dinner.

In his gray sweats and white t-shirt, Tom sat down on the couch right by the window near your side of the bed, pulling out his computer to get a bit of work done while he waits. He didn't want to risk waking you up by slipping in beside you, didn't want to disturb your blissful sleep.

He kept giving you glances from time to time, just to check up on you, his heart growing bigger whenever he does so. Warmth just spreads across his chest each time he sees your beautiful face with nothing but slumber and peace coating your features.

The food arrived about thirty minutes later, Tom setting his laptop down to open the door, room service strolling in with fresh and hot food. He closed the door after he tipped the guy generously, walking over to the table to take some chips off the plate, humming at the wonderful taste.

Opting on letting you sleep for a couple minutes more, Tom went back over to the couch. But just as he was about to sit back down, he heard you let out a troubled groan in your sleep. Surely enough when his gaze landed on you, your face was now contorted in pure distress, brows knitted together as you shifted on the bed, one hand desperately clinging on the pillow while the other on the white sheets.

"Tom!" you yelped and bolted straight up, eyes frantic and chest heaving as you looked around the room for him.

"Hey! Hey." Tom was by your side in an instant, the bed dipping as he sat down, his hands cupping your face gently to make you look at him straight in the eyes. "Darling, hi, I'm here," he whispered with a sweet smile, heart aching at the sight of fear and the fresh sets of tears that now coated your eyes.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him for a couple seconds, moving closer towards him so you could bury yourself in his arms. "I'm sorry," you mumbled against his chest, both your arms wrapping around his torso as you let out uneven, shaky breaths.

"Nothing to apologise for angel. It was just a nightmare," he murmured, rubbing your back sweetly as he swayed you side to side. "It's okay, you're okay." He held you like that for as long as you needed, whispering sweet nothings into your ear in hopes that it'll help you calm down. Tom only loosened his hold around when you softly pulled away, breathing now calmer, sniffling close to none.

"Want to watch a movie while we eat? The chips are really good," he said, both hands now holding your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks tenderly as he wiped away the little tears that sat on your skin. "Spider-Man: Far From Home so we can nitpick and criticize my performance together?" he added jokingly, earning a soft giggle from you as you nodded.

With half of the food gone, you were well into fifteen minutes of the movie. There were a couple of pauses done of course. Now you were snuggled up cozily beside him, your head on his chest as he rested his back against the stacked pillows. He had one arm over your shoulder to keep you close, fingers grazing up and down your arm soothingly while his eyes were set on the screen in front, his warmth comforting you in more ways than one.

The whole pole sequence in Venice was when he felt you start to shift in his arms, a shaky breath coming out of you when you saw him hit that wall as he got drenched in water. And then you spoke,

"Tom, what if—"

"Stop it right now and don't even finish your sentence," he scolded, already knowing where you were going with this. You pulled away from his embrace and sat up straighter just so you could have a full look at him, a deep frown already on your lips.

"You do your own stunts," was all that you said, but Tom already knew what you meant by it, didn't need you to explain further.

With a sigh, he sat up as well, touch tender as he ran it up and down your arms. "Darling, I am being careful with the stunts, you know that. And when it's something too dangerous, you also know that I refuse to do it," he said. "Plus, you're right there to stop me when I'm pushing myself too hard. You're looking out for me too, my love."

Even though you gave him a nod, Tom saw how that still didn't ease your mind, saw it clear in your eyes. He couldn't blame you either knowing how that scene made you think the worse of thoughts. He understood you completely, knowing that if the roles were switched, he would be behaving just the same if not much worse with how overprotective he is of you. He'd probably wrap you in a bubble to be honest, to make sure you're as far away from harm as possible and that nothing was going to happen to you.

"Come here," he hummed, taking your hands and pulling you close until you were straddling his lap, giving your fingers warm kisses before he placed them, flat against his cheeks. Tom's warm palms found their way under his shirt that you wore, settling his hands right on your waist, his thumb running over the swell of your belly fondly, skin touching skin, makes you feel much closer to him.

Tom gaped up at you with nothing but absolute love in his eyes, a glow that's made your heart grow warmer, a look that's added more sincerity to his words. "Nothing's going to happen to me okay? You're going to be stuck with this very handsome face for a long, long time."

You giggled at that, dipping your head so you could capture his lips in a kiss filled with the rawest of emotions from gratitude, happiness, adoration, passion, love. Tom didn't need words for him to know that you were thankful for him, that you were so happy to have him in your life, he can already feel it. Your actions will always speak louder volumes, justifying all the emotions you needed to get across that simple words never could.

With a satisfied groan, Tom pulled you even closer, his hands snaking up your bare back, your shirt hiking up at his action. He felt up your warm skin deliberately, touch driven with passion as he nibbled on your bottom lip, wanting to taste more of you. You happily obliged with a soft moan, your fingers treading through his slightly damp curls as you welcomed him in. And Tom made his presence known through his touch, to remind you that he is here with you, that he will always be here, and that he is—

"Not going anywhere."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you liked it and tell me your thoughts <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @vinylmendes @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @perspectiveparker @chloecreatesfictions @tombob2005 @arivera-30

just let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist hun! <3

1K notes · View notes

softyoongiionly · 3 years

Text

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations

-They came for the music

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok

-Maybe you do

-Kinda

-Pay attention

-but it’s not your fault!!!!

-You just

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering

-Crush

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)

-And teachers have to study very very hard

-Educating the youth is no easy feat

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

387 notes · View notes

unicyclehippo · 4 years

Note

I don't know how you'd fit it into only 5 sentences, but I'd be interested in seeing Jester struggle with her attraction to Beau and realizing that this isn't a story she's read.

im sorry if this isn’t exactly what u wanted but it was what came to mind. hope u enjoy it mate ! ☀️

There’s a point of heat on the back of her head where someone has been staring for the past hour. For a moment, Jester lets herself pretend that it’s Fjord—that he is watching out for her, making sure that she is safe crossing the tar pits now they know exactly what is in them; irritation flares like an itch over her skin and it takes her quite by surprise. She’s the one who imagined it, after all. And isn’t that exactly the kind of very noble and gallant thing that he would do? Isn’t that exactly what a hero would do, swooping in to help her if she got hurt?

Jester shrugs the question aside. The itch was probably from a biting bug anyway.

A burble of sucking tar and good-natured grumbling from ahead has Jester looking up and over to Caduceus where he is being helped out of a murky pool—unharmed, thank the Wildmother—by Fjord.

Huh. He must have made his way past her at some point. Jester watches the pair for a minute, Fjord’s crooked grin commiserating, trying very hard not to be amused, as Caduceus’s eyebrows droop and his legs drip, caked in mud from the waist down. Another smile from Fjord and Caduceus is nodding, perking up a little. And then Fjord is leading him forward and Caduceus looks after him, eyes bright, a little of his discomfort shaking off him along with the mud. He looks so...proud. No—he’s admiring Fjord. He’s right to be. Fjord doesn’t look like a fish out of water anymore; the sea may always be his first love, but the Wildmother has made it so it can be, so those waters aren’t a prison for him anymore, and she has given him more beside. Not the least of which, she has given him Caduceus.

Jester returns her attention to her own path, navigating the slicked roots of these tangled trees. She is preparing to jump from one onto the next when it occurs to her that if Fjord had been ahead of her all this time it couldn’t be him who was staring. The rush of that heat comes back more focused than before and Jester twists even as she leaps, determined to know who.

Blue eyes flash wide as Jester catches them with her own. Beau. Of course it’s Beau, Jester thinks and she doesn’t have enough time to consider the way her stomach twists, or how her tongue feels too big all of a sudden, or how her cheeks burn because as soon as she has seen Beau—and her bright, bright eyes—Jester is landing. The twist and her distraction have her missing solid footing by basically nothing at all. She’s sure the Traveller is watching and laughing when her feet slip comically against wet bark; she would laugh too but when she falls, she falls hard. The breath is knocked from her lungs, hip and chest slamming onto a raised root. A pained curse follows her breath, lungs wheezing it out.

‘Hold on, Jes,’ she hears from behind her, but she already can feel it happening. It’s all too slick and one foot and then the next plop into the thick sludge. It feels weirdly solid around her legs, not like mud at all, more like being swallowed.

‘Beau! It’s going to eat me!’

‘Hold on, nearly there!’

Jester holds her hands over her head and tries not to panic. That had made Caduceus sink faster, she thinks, but it’s hard when she starts to feel things moving in the muck. She can hear Beau, her boots tapping light against the bark, and feels a flash of something. Jealousy? Maybe admiration too. Beau has had no trouble at all with this, jumping easily across the distance and keeping her balance. Blue comes into Jester’s periphery, stark against the browns and muted greens, and she feels like clapping watching Beau, so she does. Eyes narrow with focus, Beau grins when she hears her. She closes the distance between them with a few neat bounds until she is where Jester had meant to be and, wrapping a vine around her wrist, she holds out a hand for Jester to grab.

‘Here, there’s something you can step on there,’ Beau points out. Jester grabs desperately at her with both hands and Beau takes it unflinchingly, despite the gross mud; rough callouses and her bandages—and the steel grip she has on Jester’s hand—won’t let Jester fall.

Maybe she had knocked her head but Jester doesn’t feel relieved. Maybe for an instant but then she’s flooded with delight as she climbs up and out, because all she can see is the tense line of Beau’s arm, all lean cut muscle, as she holds Jester very firmly, keeping her balanced, keeping her from falling back in. Her abdomen is tight too, but there is no sign of effort on her face. Just a small smile.

‘What?’ Jester demands, feeling her face flush.

‘No, nothing.’

‘Beau,’

‘I was just thinking,’ Beau continues, and Jester can’t help but smile at how little encouragement Beau needs. Or maybe it’s because Beau shifts her grip to something a little looser now that she’s safe—loose enough that Jester could pull away if she wanted to. She doesn’t. Not quite yet. ‘You need a new dress.’

Jester blinks. Then lets out a little wail as she looks down at the mud-caked skirt. ‘This was my last good one!’ she cries, and tries to shake out the pleats. Her hand is still tangled with Beau’s and she doesn’t let go. She feels Beau try to release her, but stops when Jester won’t cooperate.

‘I know.’

‘It was supposed to be my Travellercon dress! All my other ones - adventuring is very hard on clothes, Beau!’

‘I know,’ she says again, tone equal parts agreeing and amused.

‘All this mud and every monster has claws for some reason and some of them have blood that burns right through my clothes—one is missing a whole sleeve.’ She sighs. ‘I should have picked up more when we were in Nicodranas but I wasn’t thinking about it.’

‘We’ll get some when we get home,’ Beau agrees easily. The words send that thrill right through Jester; home, she says, and Jester knows she doesn’t mean Kamordah. ‘And I can try get that out for you, if you want.’ She pinches the fabric between two fingers of her free hand, scoops off some of the muck. She doesn’t touch Jester when she does it but it’s a near thing and Jester’s imagination runs with it, makes her skin buzz. Beau mustn’t notice because she continues calm as anything, ‘Maybe Veth can whip up some good soap. A bit of scrubbing will clean this out. There’d be no saving it if it were white but green... Green should be fine.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Oh yeah, probably. Should be a breeze—wine is one of the hardest stains to get out but I know how to do that. Lionett family secret,’ Beau tells her, and winks.

#prompt fill #cr tag #beaujester #tagging my stories

188 notes · View notes

deja-you · 3 years

Note

Thomas and you or Lafayette and you dancing in the snow?

this is just so pure. looks like im in the mood to write Christmas drabbles...

“Some people are rich, but you’re rich.”

Lafayette raised an eyebrow. “Maybe my English is not so good, but those sound like the same word to me.”

“Sorry, what I meant was, some people have money, but you have a private ski château,” you pointed out, staring up in awe at the large snow covered manor.

Lafayette had taken you up to his family’s château in the mountains for the weekend, and you knew he his family had money, but you hadn’t realized the full extent of it. It looked like some kind of medieval castle glowing in the pristine coat of white and you couldn’t help but gape at it.

You were in over your head. A week ago you had mentioned to Lafayette that you had wanted a getaway from your work and your three roommates, but you hadn’t expected him to take you seriously.

Being the good friend he was (God, why was he just a friend? Couldn’t he tell you were in love with him?), Lafayette suggested the two of you spend the weekend at his family’s place. And because you were in desperate need of a vacation in the midst of COVID-19, and not at all because you wanted to spend time with your crush, you had willing agreed to come.

“Where even are we?” You asked, finally closing your mouth. You turned to get your luggage out of the car, but saw that Lafayette had already unloaded everything while you were gaping.

“The mountains,” he said simply.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” you said as he carried the last bag inside. “You could kill me out here and no one would ever find me.”

He glanced back at you with an amused smile. “Yes, I could. You’d better stay on my good side then, yes?”

It seemed like a threat, but you decided it was an empty threat. That is, unless, he poisoned the hot chocolate he made for the two of you once you had settled in. And honestly, death by hot chocolate wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it was Lafayette’s grandma’s recipe.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” you said, taking a long sip of the warm drink.

He laughed. “Cooking and making hot chocolate are two different things, ma chèrie.”

“Well if your cooking is even half as good as your hot chocolate, you must be a great cook. This has got to be the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. What’s in it?” You asked.

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “No, no. That’s classified. I can’t have you stealing my family’s secrets.”

You brought your knees to your chest, relaxing further into the plush sofa. “I suppose that’s alright. But if you’re not going to tell me how to make it myself, then I reserve the right to call you over whenever I’m craving hot chocolate.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me. I’ll be around whenever you need m-- I mean, hot chocolate,” he corrected himself.

You were content with his answer. And with the hot chocolate. And with the fire flickering in the fireplace beside you. And with the fuzzy socks you had put on. You were content with the warmth that was surrounding you, and nothing could--

“It’s snowing.”

You cracked one eye open slowly to see that Lafayette was right, it was snowing. Outside the window, thousands of little snowflakes were cascading down from the sky in flurries. You opened both eyes now, blinking a few times. The snow was beautiful, and the sight was a nice addition to your warm atmosphere. It was peaceful.

“We should go outside,” Lafayette said, his eyes fixed on the snow.

“What?” You turned to stare at him like he was crazy.

Yes, it was beautiful, but you found the logs burning in the fireplace and the knitted blanket strewn across an armrest beautiful. Not to mention the fire and the blanket were warm. Snow meant it was freezing outside, and you had no interest in being cold now that you had settled in.

“Yeah,” Lafayette insisted. “Let’s go outside. It will be fun.”

“It will be cold! You want me to go out in the snow at...” your eyes travelled over to the clock above the stove, “...at one in the morning?”

“It’s not like you have anywhere to be in the morning. You can sleep in. Put on a coat. There, all your problems are solved,” he gave you an easy grin and that nearly convinced you in itself.

“My coat is in my suitcase all the way upstairs,” you groaned.

Lafayette went into a closet and pulled out a blue ski jacket. “Just borrow one of mine.”

He really had a solution for everything. You wanted to come up with another excuse, but since he had so generously offered for you to join him at his Château, you could indulge him just this once. In the back of your mind, you could hear your friend saying that “you never owed a man anything, no matter if he opened the door for you or paid for dinner.” In this case it was a mountain Château and the best hot chocolate you had ever had, but you knew he would drop it if you said no.

But there was a part of you that wanted to go out into the snow with him, even if it was just to see him smile. Even if you had wanted to turn down his suggestion a minute ago, the look he was wearing on his face now convinced you that you couldn’t say no.

“Fine,” you said begrudgingly, trying to hide your smile when he cheered happily.

Lafayette put on his own jacket before holding open an extra one for you to slide your arms into. It was a few sizes too large, but you didn’t mind as long as it was warm. Lafayette gave you a pair of boots (also a few sizes too large) and you lazily put them on over your fuzzy socks.

Lafayette didn’t waste anytime, pulling you out the front door and onto the lawn that was already covered in a blanket of snow. You couldn’t help but smile at the child-like expression he wore while he stared up at the sky in complete joy. Lafayette hadn’t let go of your hands, but you didn’t feel the need to point it out to him.

“You act like you’ve never seen snow before.” You whispered even though there wasn’t another house around for miles. The snow created a quiet, peaceful atmosphere where it felt like you and Lafayette were the only people in the world. Talk about alone together.

“I’m just happy,” Lafayette said softly.

“Because it’s snowing?”

He nodded and lowered his eyes to meet yours. “Because it’s snowing, yes. Also because I’m here. With you.”

You sucked in a breath of cold air. Was he flirting with you? That had to be flirting, right? Or maybe he just meant it in a platonic way?

Lafayette didn’t give you a chance to think about the topic in any more depth, because he pulled you closer to him, one hand still gripping your’s, and the other hand moving to rest on your waist. He moved his feet back and forth in a quasi-swaying, quasi-shuffling movement.

“What are you doing?” You asked him with a laugh.

“We are dancing,” he informed you.

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you told me you didn’t dance.”

You had specifically remembered him telling you a traumatic story from his childhood that was centered around dancing months ago. You remembered a lot of the little details he had told you over the course of the time the two of you had known each other.

“Ah, I told you I didn’t dance, not that I couldn’t. I like dancing,” he replied, then he added, “with the right people.”

He must be flirting with you know, right? He had to be. There was no way you were imagining this, but knowing your track record, this is exactly the kind of scenario you would make up in your head to put your heart at ease.

“There’s no music,” you mumbled softly.

“I could sing something,” he suggested.

“You make hot chocolate, dance, and sing? What can’t you do?”

Lafayette grinned mischievously, then launched into a very patriotic, very loud French anthem. He hadn’t even made it to the chorus when you were slapping his shoulder, laughing loudly, and begging him to stop.

“Never mind, never mind. We don’t music. I take it back,” you managed to say through your laughter.

“You don’t want me to sing?” He pouted in mock offense.

You rapidly shook your head. “No!”

“Then what would you have me do?” Lafayette asked gently, his brown eyes glowing warm like the fire that had been abandoned inside.

You considered him for a moment. You had your answer. “Just hold me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Lafayette pulled you closer into his embrace, and you could feel his warmth through the layers of ski jackets and cable knit sweaters.

#Kitty's drabbles #this is so soft #christmas time is here #lafayette #lafayette imagine #lafayette x reader #requests are open !!

88 notes · View notes

kaunis-sielu · 4 years

Text

In The Back of the Cab (Lyft)

For @tilltheendwilliwrite 7.5k challenge, thanks for letting me join!

Hey darlin’ just wanted to let you know I’m home safe and sound. Just exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow?

Steve has sent the text before dragging his tired body into the shower. He can’t stand to go to bed covered in the sweat, dirt and general grime of a mission. After a quick shower he checks his phone and sees a message from you.

Thank you for letting me know you’re home safe. See you tomorrow.

He climbs into bed then, and closes his eyes. But sleep doesn’t come, his bedroom is still too hot, even with the fan going so he kicks the sheets off of the bed. There’s some more tossing and turning before Steve is laying on the bed, arms spread out to his sides, feet spread wide. You’d call him a starfish if you were here, then uselessly try to shove him over so he wasn’t taking up your side of the bed too. He’d roll so he was laying on top of you and you’d laugh and try to move him again with an exasperated huff. But he wouldn’t move, not until you’d given up then he’d kiss you and slide you onto his side of the bed just to have you close and you’d both fall into a content sleep. Steve can’t help the smile on his face as he thinks about exactly how the scene would play out. He sighs heavily then looks over at the clock on his nightstand, it’s just before one in the morning but knowing you, you’re probably still awake. He grabs his phone and before he can think better of it calls you.

You answer on the second ring. “Steve? You okay?”

“Yea darlin’, just can’t sleep.”

“Wanna talk for a while?” You ask and he can hear you moving around.

“You don’t mind?”

“Never.” You tell him but when he stays silent you continue, “I’m just painting so I’m going to put my headphones in so I don’t have to hold the phone. You wanna talk or should I?”

“Can you?” He asks and you give a small hum before launching into a description of the painting that you’re working on. This isn’t the first time he’s needed this after a mission and you, being the saint you are, always comply.

“Do you think we could video chat?” He asks, a sudden urge to see you coming over him. He should’ve just gone over, maybe he still could.

“Oh, I can’t.” You tell him and he can hear the embarrassment in your voice.

“What did you do?”

“I may or may not have dropped my phone off my balcony yesterday.” You admit and Steve laughs full belly laughs. Your ability to break technology has put Tony to the test in more ways than one. “Everything is all cracked and fuzzy on the camera but everything else works.” You continue over his laughter, “How mad do you think Tony’s gonna be?”

“I think exasperated is a better word Darlin.” Steve says through his laughter, “you wanna bring it by tomorrow? See if he can fix it?”

“Honestly what did he expect? It’s made out of glass!”

“The rest of us manage.”

“The rest of you are also superheroes so you’re clearly playing the game at a higher level than I am!” You argue but he can hear the smile in your voice. “Hey, I’m gonna take a quick shower. Do you want me to call you back?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Never.” You assure him, “talk to you in like fifteen.”

“Love you Darlin’.”

“Love you too.” He hangs up then and decides in that moment to head over to your house. If he hurries he can be there before you’re out of the shower. He grabs a pair of jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket out of his closet and after dressing puts on his boots. He’s taking the bike and you’d scolded him before for not wearing proper footwear. He makes it down to the garage in record time and pulls out of the tower and into traffic. Now he just needs to get to your place before you’re done with your shower because he knows that you’ll be able to tell he’s not in his room.

Traffic is a nightmare, Steve does maybe one or two illegal moves to get there faster but when he hits a red light there’s not much he can do. He’s about halfway to your place when he glances at a passing Lyft and his jaw drops. You’re in the back, looking as pretty as a picture, your bottom lip between your teeth as you look anxiously ahead to try and see what the hold up is. As your car pulls away Steve whips his bike around and follows, why are you in a Lyft? You said you were going to take a shower. Were you coming to see him?

Steve chases your Lyft for three blocks before you hit a red light, he watches as you lean forward and say something to the driver, Steve takes the moment of distraction to pull up next to your car, he flips up the visor of his helmet and leans onto the open window ledge.

“Hey Darlin’ where you headed?” He purrs and your head whips around. Irritation is evident on your face but it quickly changes to surprise then pure joy.

“Steve!” You cry before scrambling to the window and throwing an arm around his neck as you hang halfway out the window.

“Hi darlin’. Where ya goin’?”

“To see you of course.”

“Ma’am? The light is green so you need to be either in or out.” The driver calls and you look at Steve for some help, he chuckles and pulls you through the window and onto his bike.

“Got everything?”

“It was just me and my bag.” You tell him gesturing at the black bag at your hip.”

“I’ve got it from here. Thanks!” Steve calls through the window at the driver who pulls away and Steve moves his bike off of the road with you sitting sideways on his lap. Once he’s safely on the side of the road he yanks his helmet off and presses a needy kiss to your lips. You melt into him and he doesn’t know why he thought waiting to see you tomorrow was a good idea, already he feels more at peace.

“Can you imagine,” you muse softly, “how confusing it would’ve been if you hadn’t seen me and we both got to the other’s place and no one was there.”

“I probably would’ve thought something happened.” Steve admits, he’s always a little worried someone is going to find you and use you against him.

“I have a solution.” You tell him carding you’re fingers through his hair.

“What’s that?”

“Move in with me. You’ll have a safe space to go and we won’t risk any mix ups.”

“Or you could move in with me. Where it’s safer.”

“I’m not moving into the tower.” You tell him, “but I will agree to tighter security at my place.” Steve thinks it over, it would be nice to have a place away from the tower, you live in a quieter suburb, away from the noise of the city.

“Deal.” He says and you grin broadly up at him pressing a kiss to his lips, when you pull away you give him a cheeky smile and say,

“Well then, Steve Rogers take me home.”

Tag list:

@memyselfandmaddox @thefanficfaerie @patzammit @abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @killcomet @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @silverkitten547 @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @giggleberts @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden

#tpromptsachallenge #steve rogers #captain america #avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #imagine steve rogers #imagine captain america #imagine avengers #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers x reader oneshot #steve rogers x reader imagine #imagine steve rogers x reader #imagine captain america oneshot #captain america x reader oneshot

164 notes · View notes

dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Safe Haven

Hey guys! So a little backstory for this imagine, I randomly had a dream about this scenario with EZ and as soon as I woke up I was like “I gotta write that!” so here we are! Also just want to add how I really miss Mayans MC and my bois and I can’t wait for season 3 to come out🥰! Okay that’s pretty much it other than I hope you guys like it and sorry if it’s long or doesn’t flow well (I feel like it kinda seems rushed and towards the end doesn’t sound the best, but then again that might just be me being overly critical of myself 🤷🏽‍♀️ lol).

Pairing: EZ ReyesxBlack Reader

⚠️: Bit of angst, mentions of blood (very tiny), fluff mixed in throughout though

Sunlight beaming down from the small window above your bed, EZ slowly opens his eyes to see your still figure lying next to him. Hand placed just below his newest tattoo marking the birth of your son and leg draped over his, he gently brings you closer taking in the coconut scent of your lotion still radiating off your skin from last night.

Living a life like his, rarely could he experience peaceful mornings just lying down hearing the birds chirp outside, so he made sure to appreciate every second of it that he could.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!?! YOU THINK IM THAT DUMB TO NOT KNOW YOU’RE LYING?!??!!”

Barely muffled shouting from your neighbors coming through the walls, EZ rolls his eyes with a soft groan while you begin to wake up.

“They’re arguing again?,” you groggily ask rubbing your eyes as a yawn slips from your mouth.

“Yea they just started.”

“Well, it could be worse. They could’ve started at one in the morning like last time,” you softly laugh grazing your thumb along his cheekbone. Taking your hand in his, he kisses your knuckles before leaning down to give the same attention to your pouted lips. Slightly calloused yet soft hand gripping your thigh, you push against his chest separating his lips from yours.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“You know exactly what,” you smirk. “Today we’re supposed to go get more diapers for Omari and more food for my fridge since someone and his brother keep eating everything.”

“That’s all on Angel, I know how to limit myself. And your leg was draped over me so really I should be the one telling you don’t start,” he chuckles kissing your jaw as you stick your tongue out at him. Sitting up, you carefully step over him to make your way to the bathroom.

“Whatever, I can’t help how I sleep Ezekiel.” Closing the door behind you, a wide smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head. While the use of his full name was only reserved for his father and brother, the way it rolled off your tongue made him want to hear you say it all day.

Swinging his legs over the side, he stretches before hearing the soft cries of his eight month old son in the other room. Quickly putting on his white tank and boots, his long legs guide him to the wooden crib in the next room. Tiny arms reaching between the bars, he carefully lifts him up to bounce him in his arms.

“Hey man, annoying neighbors woke you up too huh?” Reaching in his crib, he removes an older looking stuffed bunny with different sized buttons for eyes and a random patterned patch sewn on its belly. “Look what I got.”

Calming down, his hands roam around it’s face fixated on the black point that was its nose. “That patch was because your uncle Angel decided to keep throwing him at the ceiling fan seeing if he would stay on the blade. Don’t ever let him play with your toys ok?,” he smiles kissing the top of his head.

Like every event in his life, he could vividly remember everything that happened that day. Him begging Angel to stop. His hard headed older brother not listening until cotton fell from above. His mother calming him down insisting how it could be fixed as she smoothed his dark hair before kissing his forehead.

It may sound weird, but every time he saw that bunny he felt his mom’s presence as if he was back to that day sitting in her lap watching as she sewed his friend back together. That’s one reason why he wanted his son to have it, so his abuela would be with him.

Hearing your footsteps, he looks up to see you suspiciously looking towards the door instantly making him worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just thought I heard someone stop in front of the door,” you answer taking one last glance towards the front of your apartment. “It’s nothing though, they probably just paused for a second.”

Handing Omari to you, he approaches the door looking out the peephole before opening it to peak outside making sure no one was hanging around.

“Something like that happens again and I’m not here, call me.”

“I doubt-,”

“I’m serious Y/N.” Locking the door behind him he walks up to you and your babbling son peering down with dark brown eyes that were stern enough to know he meant business, yet still displayed their usual softness showing it was out of love for you and Omari that he was being so protective.

“Okay,” you answer; soon after feeling his beard brush against your skin as he pecks your lips.

———

“Ready to go to the park love?”

Bringing the diaper bag higher on your opposite shoulder, you balance your baby boy on your hip as you lock your door. Just as you turn around, you’re faced with three men patiently waiting while two of them intensely looked at you and your son. The tall, slender one in the middle, clad in a grey suit, displayed a small smile trying to appear friendly, but mostly seemed awkward as if he wasn’t used to that emotion.

“Hello, my name is Lincoln Potter and these are a couple of my associates. We’re looking for a man by the name Ezekiel Reyes, or EZ, as some call him. We have a couple witness accounts on seeing him in the area so we’re asking around for more possible information.” Holding up a candid picture of him on his bike outside his dad’s carneteria, you lightly bounce Omari hoping to distort his view so he wouldn’t possibly recognize his father.

“Sorry, haven’t seen him.”

“Well it doesn’t have to be around here. Have you seen him anywhere else? In town perhaps?”

“No, nowhere else,” you answer showing no emotion. While this was your first physical interaction with Potter, you were definitely familiar with the attorney. A few times while you were at EZ’s trailer he’d have to step away to answer his call or meet him in some secluded location. It was then you saw how much of a pain he could be to any target he had his sights on.

Looking at you for a few seconds his mouth parts as if he had more to say, but instead the awkward smile returns as he hands you his card.

“If you do happen to see him, please call. He’s needed for...very important matters.” Taking the card from his hand, he gazes down to Omari innocently nibbling on his fingers. Black coils on the top of his head shifting from the light breeze, his dark eyes finally meet Potter’s crystal blue ones causing a low chuckle to escape the man’s lips.

“Might I add you have a beautiful son. His father is very lucky to have such a beautiful family.”

Through his compliment you could feel a sense of iciness laced within. Like he knew what information you were keeping from him and was 10 steps ahead of your two.

Politely nodding your head as a soft “thank you” leaves your mouth, you walk by the three men feeling eyes on your back. After buckling your son in his car seat, you move to the drivers side quickly closing the door behind you before resting your head on the steering wheel to take a deep breath.

“Mama,” Omari whines lightly kicking his feet wanting the car to move.

“I know we’re going baby boy just give mommy a second.” Dialing EZ’s number, you pull out of the parking lot onto the busy street anxiously waiting for him to answer.

“Hey, you okay?,” he asks, deep voice full of concern and worry.

“Um well yes and no....it’s Potter.”

———

Sat on the floor watching your little boy laugh as he plays with his interactive animal book, you occasionally look out the window anxiously waiting to see EZ and Angel arrive any minute. After telling him what happened, he instructed you to meet him at the clubhouse where he’d take you to his dad’s just in case you were being followed.

Dropping you both off, he didn’t say much as he walked you into the small house. Kissing Omari’s cheek and then your lips, he quickly left again with his brother instantly making you worried. Knowing what was going on, Felipe tried to get your mind off things by offering you food and getting you to talk about yourself or Omari, which worked but not for long.

Now over three hours later, it was dark outside and neither you nor Felipe had heard anything from the brothers.

Motorcycles humming outside, you peer out the window to see Angel and EZ slowly making their way to the front of the house causing you to sigh in relief. However, your worries quickly returned seeing both tiredly trudge through the front door and the front of EZ’s grey shirt crimson with blood.

“What happened?!,” you ask rushing to examine him for any other injuries.

“Calm down, it’s not mine,” he answers bringing your hands to his lips with a small smile. “Just had to save this one as always.”

“Save me? Pretty sure that’s not how it went at all but ok. And I’m good too, thanks for asking.” Shaking his head Angel picks up your son before sitting down on the couch and flipping through the channels on the outdated tv. “You care about your tio don’t you man?”

Little hands pulling his hair as he giggles, Angel lets out a small yelp trying to loosen his strong grip.

“Omari be nice,” you laugh before returning your attention back to your boyfriend. “Here, let me help you clean up.” Leading him to the bathroom, you close the door behind you as he removes his leather vest and shirt before sitting on the toilet.

“Try not to cry this time alright?”

“Psh, whatever,” he lightly chuckles resting his large hands on the back of your legs. A comfortable silence falls over you while you stand between his legs carefully cleaning the blood from his scars. Although you had grown used to these moments being with him for a while now, that still didn’t take away the ache you always felt seeing him hurt.

“You and Omari might want to stay with your mom for a while,” he speaks just above a whisper.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? You saw what happened today Y/N, I don’t want you guys hanging around for it to happen again.”

“If it happens again,” you correct making him roll his eyes as he stands up.

“Now’s not the time to be naive, I’m driving you tomorrow. Your stuff is already packed waiting at the trailer.” Reaching for the door, you stand in his way planting yourself against the worn looking wood with arms crossed over your chest.

“Last time I checked, you’re Omari’s father not mine.”

“Y/N move.”

“No. I’m not afraid of Potter or the men under him, he’s all talk.”

“And how do you know?”

“Because if he really wanted to do something he would’ve done it then and there. I mean think about it they had me at my most vulnerable state with no where to go and no way to defend myself,” you explain receiving an exasperated sigh from EZ as his hand rubs down his face.

“It was a warning. Yea they didn’t do anything when they could’ve, but they wanted to scare you into telling them what they wanted to know and intimidate both of us with what they could do.”

“Well it didn’t work,” you reply guiding his chin to look at you. “Ezekiel I knew what I was getting into when we started talking and I’m still here. If it ever gets to the point where I don’t feel safe or fear for our son’s safety then we’ll leave, but until then I’m not letting Potter get to me. Plus do you think it would be easy for us to just leave after all this time?”

Placing both hands on either side of your head, he slightly bends down leaving his face inches from yours. “I’m not saying it would be easy, but if it needs to be done then that’s it bellita.”

“And when it needs to be done it will be.” Connecting your lips with his, your hands roam from his bare chest to the nape of his neck while his wrap around your body bringing you closer.

“We’re gonna need to put you in a new apartment too,” he says separating his lips from yours as his fingers graze up and down your spine.

“Hopefully your dad is okay with me staying here for a while longer then.”

“Here? What about the trailer?”

“I think the constant revving of motorcycles and occasional parties might not be ideal for a baby to be around.”

“True, you’re probably right,” you both laugh before being interrupted by loud knocking.

“Aye I hate to interrupt your probably intimate moment in there, but your kid is hungry and I’m not sure if it’s for what I can give him or what only mom can,” Angel explains as Omari fusses in his arms. “Relax man I’m trying to get her out here.”

“I’m gonna shower, you better go ahead before he starts pulling his hair again,” he smiles kissing your temple.

Opening the door, you carefully take Omari from his hands tickling under his chin to make him laugh. “Okay my baby lets get you fed.”

“The amount of strength he has that’s not a baby, that’s a tiny grown man,” Angel adds making you laugh.

Tags: @crushed-pink-petals-writes @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @renfrewscorner @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#ez reyes #ez x reader #ez x blackreader #ez x woc #mayans mc

198 notes · View notes

bluebirdsbluebells · 4 years

Text

love lost - part three

pairing: jj maybank x reader

words: 5.8k (i got carried away im sorry)

warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of drugs, angst

a/n: i totally got carried away with this chapter. i was originally just going to keep writing and writing and writing it, but i decided to split it, so there will be a fourth and final chapter after this one. thank you guys so much for the love on this fic. also! the anons that sent in requests, just know that i am working on them! i’ve been a bit slow lately, but i’m trying my best to get them done!

series masterlist

_____

True to your word, you continued to stay away from JJ. Twice you saw him out and about, but you avoided him, keeping your head down and your gaze averted from his own. You could feel him watching you though, waiting to see if you would finally let him back in. That was just something that you knew you couldn’t do. One wrong move and you could be a broken mess on the floor yet again.

When JJ shattered you, you felt as if you lost faith in yourself as well. You could no longer believe anything that he had to say to you, but you felt as if you weren’t any kind of trustworthy either. You felt like you had betrayed yourself; fucked up along the way and created the mess without even realizing its eventual doom.

You tried to stay strong though. You didn’t want Harry to worry any more than he already was. You hadn’t told him about your encounter with JJ on the street, and you hadn’t told him about Rafe’s odd comments either. You thought that it was best to keep quiet and try to move on with your daily activities.

But you weren’t a superhero. Everyone had their breaking point. Maybe you were just unlucky, but it seemed that you had several.

He came up from behind you; swiftly; unnoticed by anyone else. There was a static between his skin and yours as he grazed his fingers along your shoulders, grabbing your attention. You spun around, nearly crashing into the isle of pasta behind you.

“Jesus,” you cursed, stepping away from him. He was too close; you could smell the weed on his breath and the strong odor of his cheap fabric softener. You swallowed tightly. “Can we talk now?” JJ asked, his eyes meeting yours with desperation. They were bloodshot and far from appearing dry, and although he may have been crying, you settled for the alternative. It was unlikely that he would’ve been shedding tears when he reeked of marajuana.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head as you side-stepped him, your breath catching in your throat.

Your mother had asked you to go out and get groceries for dinner that night. JJ was the last person you wanted to see, and you should’ve known that there were no safe places, not even the supermarket on a dreary Wednesday afternoon.

“Please Y/N?” JJ pleaded, stepping back in front of you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as he hovered over you, his hair falling into his reddening eyes. “You’re high,” you commented, your gaze dropping to the floor of the supermarket. There were a few cracks that ran along the tile, and you traced them with your eyes. JJ was wearing a pair of dirtied grey boots with black socks that poked above the tops.

“I came here to see you,” he said, rocking back on his heels. You tried to step around him again, but he moved to the side, blocking your path. In the back of your throat you felt a tickle, and you sucked in a breath, fighting with yourself to keep it together. “You followed me here, didn’t you,” you whispered, your head still staying turned to the ground, but you lifted your eyes to glance at him. “I told you that I would talk to you when I was ready.” “And you’re not ready?” JJ asked, his voice rising slightly. When you winced he licked his lips and lowered it, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. “You’re not ready?” He repeated quietly.

You shook your head, turning your neck to the side. “Get out of the way,” you said, your grip tightening on the plastic handle of your shopping basket. From down the aisle a woman rolled her cart towards the spices, one squeaky wheel screeching against the tile.

“Y/N, I just want to talk to you. I know you don’t trust me, and that’s fine, but I just need to explain myself.” “There’s nothing to explain,” you muttered, pulling your lower lip through your teeth. “It’s perfectly clear.” “It’s not,” he corrected, holding up his hands as if he was trying to steady you, but you didn’t need comfort, you needed to get out of there. “If you would just let me-” “Excuse me,” you mumbled, then you turned on your heel, briskly walking away from him. Your eyes darted to the side as you hurried down the aisle, then quickly slipped into the one over, which was stocked with crackers and chips. You let out a shaky breath, then set down your basket, trying to collect yourself. He was following you. Following you. You had told him that you would give him a chance eventually, but he was too impatient to even respect that you wanted more time.

“Y/N.” He startled you, and you flinched back, nearly tripping over your shopping basket. JJ stood to your left, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He had a blank expression on his face, and if you had to pick one word for the look in his eyes you would’ve picked “defeated”.

“I told you that I would talk to you eventually,” you said, stooping down to pick the cart back up. “But that day isn’t today JJ.” “You won’t do it,” he said quietly. “You’ll just keep avoiding me and nothing will ever get said and you’ll slowly forget about me.” Your lips twitched; a sign that you were close to tears.

“You’re wrong,” you replied, shifting the basket between your sweaty palms. What you really wanted to say was ‘I won’t ever forget about you’, but you just couldn’t. “I told you I would listen and I will. Just-” “Now,” JJ said, shaking his head at you. “You’ll talk to me now. I can’t keep putting it off Y/N. I’ve tried to talk to JB but it’s not the same. I need you to hear it from me.” “Hear what from you?” You weren’t sure where the surge of frustration came from, but before you knew it your voice was cracking while you spat back at him. “Hear that you cheated on me with three girls while I was sick in bed on your birthday? It coming from you doesn’t make it any better JJ, because I had to find out from my best friend first. I don’t need to hear shit from you.” He stared at you, and inside of his chest you imagined his heart shrinking, his stomach falling. You wondered how bad his pain was compared to yours. Had he sobbed and shrieked and dry heaved all night until his ribs ached and his mind no longer functioned? You didn’t think so.

“Excuse me,” a quiet voice said from behind you, and you turned around to face an older man with his shopping cart. You felt your cheeks flush red as you stepped to the side. JJ did the same, and the man gave the both of you a small smile as he wheeled the trolley past, his eyes scanning over the items on the shelves. You waited until he had turned the corner before you exhaled a heavy breath, looking away from JJ and back down at the ground. “If you don’t drop what you’re doing and talk to me now, you’re never going to talk to me,” JJ said quietly. You didn’t answer, just swung the basket around your legs. It bumped into your thighs, and JJ watched as you did it over and over, refusing to reply. “Why does it matter if we speak now as opposed to months from today? Y/N it doesn’t.”

“Nothing you can say will ever justify what you did,” you answered, finally looking back up at him. “You know that, don’t know?” You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and then he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He seemed to take in your words, and then he took a slow step towards you, his head tilting as he spoke quietly. “I just want you to know what happened.” He was close to you. Three feet, maybe two. The smell of the weed wasn’t as strong as it had been when you first encountered him, but it would still be noticeable to any who passed him. You wouldn’t speak to him when he was high. You weren’t much of a smoker, but every once in a while you would hit a blunt or two with him and sit under the sky and talk. You would draw the line though. There were countless times when he would show up at your place completely shitfaced or crossed and you would take him in and look after him for the night, but when he fell asleep or left your place in the morning you were always panged with disappointment. You knew that it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted to do, but you found more often than not that he would smoke and drink to forget whatever he was going through. It was clear to you that he had done that then.

“If you want me to know so bad then tell me right here, right now,” you said. A pained expression crossed his face, and he shook his head. “I can’t.” “You can’t.” “I can’t do it in a fucking supermarket Y/N.” His voice rose, and you clenched your jaw, praying that you hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention. Your mother was probably at home wondering what was taking you so long. “Why not?” You whispered back, and your lip quivered as you spoke. “If it’s so important, then just fess up.” “You can’t just…” he trailed off, then let out an aggravated groan, causing the corners of your lips to turn down. “You need to hear everything. I- I haven’t been entirely honest with you Y/N.”

You blinked at him, disbelief on your face. “You think?” You snapped at him, and then you took a step back, shaking your head. You needed to control yourself. You couldn’t let your emotions get the best of you; a clear mind was what you had to have. Breathe in, breathe out. “I haven’t been honest about-” he swallowed “-other things either.”

To you, that was one of the most unbelievable sentences that you had ever heard in your life. JJ had left you broken and in despair after shattering your heart, and he was confessing that he had done not only that, but other things as well. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea what to do. You wanted to burst into tears and fall into a heap in the middle of the store, but you also wanted to slap him straight across the face for telling you in the middle of a fucking grocery store that he had lied to you. Maybe it was what you deserved for not facing the problem head on.

You opened and closed your mouth at him, then slowly stepped away from him, shaking your head.

“You can’t do that to me,” you said hoarsely, and you watched as his face fell. He stepped towards you, holding out his hands, but you shook your head, pulling your basket away from him and picking up your pace. “Listen…” He started, but you held out your hand, urging him to stay back. You could see that he realized he had hurt you, and his shoulders sagged, but he stayed in place. You walked backwards all the way to the end of the aisle, and as soon as he was out of sight you beelined for the self-checkout. Tears brimmed your eyes as you aggressively slid all of your items across the small scanner, trying desperately to get it over with. You needed space, you needed air. You had to get out of that store. “Something wrong ma’am?” You heard a voice call from behind you, and you turned your head to see a middle aged man standing at your right, one hand gesturing to your items. They were scattered across the bagging shelf, and one slab of butter even sat on the ground. You hastily reached down to pick it up, trying to blink back your tears. “No,” you assured, giving him a short nod. “I’m just in a rush.” “Alright then,” he said, returning the nod. “Just be careful there. You may scan something twice.” He most likely was trying to get you to slow down so you didn’t miss scanning anything, but of course that was just his polite way of letting you know that he was watching. You took a deep breath, and then continued to swipe your items more carefully. You stuffed the things into your reusable bags, then hurriedly carried them outside. You didn’t worry about setting them carefully in the back, instead you just threw open the trunk and chucked the bags inside. There was a heavy weight on your chest, and you felt as if you were being threatened for air. As soon as your driver’s side door closed you let out a loud sob, one that wracked your shoulders. Your hands gripped to the steering wheel as you dropped your head, trying to heave in breath after breath. You weren’t sure if any tears actually fell from your eyes, but you still couldn’t see anything. Your vision was blurry and crowded, and suddenly you felt like if you were to try and stand, you would’ve crumpled to the ground, shrouded with betrayal.

There was a light tap on your passenger’s side window, but you didn’t lift your head. You had a pretty fucking good idea on who it was, and you weren’t pleased, but you didn’t have the energy to deny his presence for the millionth time. JJ opened the door slowly, then slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. For a solid minute or two he didn’t say anything, and the only things that could be heard were the shaky rasps of your breathing and the sticky sound of you peeling your sweaty palms off of the leather of the steering wheel.

“Y/N,” JJ said quietly, and you pinched your eyes closed, your jaw clenching yet again. A pang shot through your chest. It felt like someone was taking Finochietto retractor and spreading your ribs right open.

“Were you lying to me the whole time?” You whispered, opening your eyes, but you kept your gaze at your shoes. Your hands still gripped the steering wheel, and your head still hung between your arms.

JJ was silent, and you darted your eyes over to him. He had a blunt in his hands, but it was unlit, and he only rolled it between his fingers, watching it. “Can we start at the beginning?” He asked quietly, and you dropped your gaze back to your shoes.

“The beginning meaning the beginning of our relationship or the beginning meaning when you started sleeping with other girls.” He sucked in a breath. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.” You rolled your tongue along your teeth, then sniffled before letting out a humourless laugh. “That’s what they all say.” “I’m telling the truth Y/N.” “Five minutes ago you confessed that you were a liar JJ,” you said, raising your head from between your arms. “I don’t know what to believe.” Another pained look crossed his face, and he sighed heavily. JJ tucked the blunt back in his pocket, then ran his fingers through his hair.

“That’s fair,” he said slowly. You could tell he was trying very carefully to pick out the right words. One wrong move and you would kick him out and drive away, and he would probably never speak to you again. “That’s fair Y/N. You have every right not to trust me. I know that you probably won’t believe what I have to say, but I need to tell you. I haven’t been fucking sleeping or eating… I’ve just been thinking about you too much; thinking about how much of a shitty person I am.” “You are a shitty person,” you said, barely hesitating. “You really hurt me, do you know that.” He nodded, his eyes falling to his boots. “I know.” You looked at him for the longest that you had looked at him since the breakup. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and hollowed out sockets. He had always had a nice golden glow to his skin, but right then he looked pale and sickly, like he truly hadn’t eaten or slept in days. His face showed the look of someone who had been broken, but it was his posture that really sold it for him. His normally radiating confidence was absent. JJ’s shoulders sagged, and he hunched into himself as if he was terrified of the world around him. His fingers jittered and tapped in his lap, and you could practically feel the anxiety that he was feeling. In a way you mimicked each other perfectly. If someone would’ve walked by and seen the two of you, they would’ve never been able to guess who was the cheater and who had been cheated on. You were both at a loss, and that was why you didn’t immediately scream at him to get out. There was a tiny little part of you that almost felt for him, and urged you to hear what he had to say simply out of desperation. That tiny little part of you was the one that wanted to believe that he had never intentionally broken your trust so easily, and that little part of you won.

“Once I get started you have to promise to let me finish,” JJ said, and his eyes lifted from the ground to look over at you. You were hesitant, unsure about whether or not you would be able to let him stay. You were unsure if the news he was about to break to would’ve been worse than what you had already gone through. You were terrified of living those weeks all over again but doubled in pain.

“Y/N?” JJ asked hopefully. “Do you promise?” Gloomily, you nodded. There wasn’t any going back after that.

“I didn’t sleep with anybody. I haven’t slept with anyone since you, I swear to god. Whatever John B. thought that he saw, he didn’t see it.” “They were all over you,” you said flatly, raising your head further from the wheel. It hit your headrest, and you let out a long, slow breath. “JB said they were on your lap-” “They were,” JJ confirmed, and you swallowed tightly. “Let me explain. Just- just let me explain.” “Fine,” you breathed, and your whole body ached. He had just told you that there was a girl on his lap like he was telling you what the time was. He was too casual about it.

Little did you know it was because he was trying to brace himself; prepare for what he was about to say next. He was terrified to admit it to you, terrified that you were going to hate him more than you already did. He had never been so scared in his life. He had prepared speeches to give to you about everything that he had done, but every time that he saw you he always lost everything he thought he had memorized, and he felt like it was the day that the two of you broke up all over again. He was so helpless, but he needed you to know.

“I was having a really good night,” JJ started, and you closed your eyes again. You felt so tense, and you knew that if you didn’t breathe and try to calm down you were just going to take whatever he had to say even harder. “You guys really decorated that place up. It looked really really good Y/N.” You could feel as he looked over at you. “It was so much fun, but I kept wishing that you were there. I took a shot for you. I took five actually, but I kept needing more. I was just downing them like there was no tomorrow.” He chuckled, as if he was recalling the night. The sound of his laughter made your stomach churn, and you dropped your head to the left, opening your eyes slowly. The car beside you was pulling out of it’s stall, and the woman driving gave you a smile before she sped off. You didn’t return it.

“And then I got a text from Barry.”

“Barry?” You asked, your ears perking at the name. So Rafe had been onto something. “Like… Barry Barry?”

“Yes,” JJ answered shortly. “That Barry.” You closed your mouth, feeling another sob start to make it’s way up your throat. Your breath hitched. If the situation actually hadn’t been cheating then…

“Drugs,” you whispered, praying to god that it wasn’t true. You had always looked down on Rafe for doing coke, and you had never expected that your boyfriend -- well, ex -- would’ve been one to do the same. Maybe it wasn’t like that, but nothing seemed to be much of what you expected anymore anyways.

Either JJ hadn’t heard you or he ignored your comment, but he continued on his story, his voice noticeably shakier. “He told me he had a little birthday gift for me,” JJ said quietly. “He said he got someone that was going to drop it off, and to wait for them out the back door. I guess he knew that John B. was having the party or something -- I don’t know -- but he told me to go out back and wait for the guy, so I did.” He paused, and you heard him swallow, his breath catching in his throat. “It wasn’t a guy though. It was three chicks.” Fuck.

“Krissy,” you mumbled, and you felt a single tear escape from your eye. It slid down your cheek, and then plopped onto the grey fabric of your shirt. “I thought they were the gifts and I told them you know ‘no I have a girlfriend’ and shit like that, but they said they were just there to give me the stuff, and then they would leave.” Out of the corner of your eye you watched as he raked his fingers through his hair, then swipe his thumb over his lip. His knee bounced as well, and you chewed on your cheek, worry growing inside of you. “I said they could come in for a second so I could take a look at what they brought and so they came inside and we went in this room. I- I didn’t have any bad intentions at all Y/N, I swear. I didn’t want John B. or anyone to see the-” “What did they bring?” You asked impatiently. You tasted blood from where you had bit your cheek. “What?” “What did Barry give you?”

JJ hesitated. “Drugs.” You felt your stomach drop. Barry had sent three obviously beautiful girls to give your taken boyfriend drugs for his eighteenth birthday. There was something that wasn’t adding up to you, but maybe it was just because you didn’t want to hear it.

“And did you do them?” “Y/N-” “Did you do them at the party?” You pressured. “There? With the girls? With Krissy? Is that when you slept with them?” “I told you didn’t sleep with anybody,” JJ answered firmly, and you sighed, releasing your grip on the steering wheel only long enough to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “But I did do the... the drugs.” “And what was it?” He didn’t hesitate that time.

“LSD.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and then your hands slipped down from the wheel. He had told you that he would never do any hardcore drugs, and he said that he meant it. But he also said that he would never lie to you, and he had.

“They said that I had to do it there, and so I did.” “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” JJ admitted. “And Y/N… I don’t remember much from that night. Everything was a blur, but I wasn’t in there long enough to do anything with them, and they were high but they knew not to touch me.” “But they did.” “I know,” JJ whispered. “I know. I was confused Y/N. I was confused and I couldn’t figure out what was going on and- fuck! I couldn’t even find the fucking door so I just stayed there with them hoping that it would wear off soon enough so I could go back to normal and I could tell how grateful I was that you helped plan such a great party.”

The weight in your chest slipped from your sternum to the pit of your stomach. Even if you wanted to get up and leave him, you wouldn’t have been able to walk or even stand. It seemed like you had a thousand pound sack of bricks on your lap, and your legs were being mutilated. You felt trapped there with JJ in that car. “Why would Barry do that for you JJ?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. Your eyes filled up with tears once they met his, and his lip quivered. He licked it, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his blunt, absentmindedly playing with it. “Because…” he sucked in a breath, then exhaled it slowly. “Because I know him well.” You were scared of what he had to say. You were absolutely terrified to listen, and he was absolutely terrified to speak. There was an unbelievable tension between the two of you, and it threatened to break your bones in on you. “So where’s the lie JJ?” You whispered, your voice shaky. “Where’s the part where you haven’t been entirely honest?” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he winced, looking away. Your expression matched his, and two more tears rolled out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” he rasped, his tongue swiping over his top lip. “I never knew how.” “Tell me what, JJ?” “The drugs.” “The dru- oh.” You knew then. You knew it. Everything went through your head in a millisecond, and you knew exactly why he had behaved the way he had all those times. It was shattering news. It wasn’t as horrible as you thought it would be because it wasn’t the situation you thought it would be -- which was that he was going to confess he had been cheating throughout your whole relationship -- but maybe in a way it was worse. At least if he had cheated you could’ve expected it because you already had prepared yourself for that confrontation, but the actual truth was something that you hadn’t braced for, and it hurt like a motherfucker. If he had been honest with you from the start you could’ve probably gotten over it, but he had lied to you.

“What kinds of drugs?” You choked out. “All kinds,” JJ whispered back. He was ashamed to tell you. “Coke, tabs of all kinds of shit. Molly- I did molly sometimes.”

“Is that where you always went?” You croaked, your throat incredibly dry. “When you said you have to leave?” He hung his head. For a long time the two of you sat in silence, you with tears streaming down your face and him rigid, barely breathing. At some point he lit up his joint, and he dragged on it until it was nothing but a stump, and then he flicked it out the window. You just stared blankly at the steering wheel, your whole body numb. There was a saying that went something like “I’d rather be hurt by the truth than comforted by a lie”, and in that moment there was nothing that you believed in more. All those months that you doubted yourself led to insecurities; were you good enough for him? Was he losing interest? Did he find you boring to be around? You could’ve saved yourself so much worrying if he had just told you the truth. When you began to doubt yourself you began to ultimately doubt him too, and late at night you questioned his loyalty. In a way though it felt as if you had still been cheated on. Felt like you were being cheated by the full honesty of your relationship. He wasn’t out with another girl, but he was with something that he couldn’t part with, not even to stay an extra hour after dinner, or hit a beautiful night at the beach. But your heart broke for him. He felt the need to lie to you. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that it was going to be okay, and that you were okay, but you just couldn’t. Your chest was being ripped apart slowly, and you struggled to breathe. You couldn’t walk, you couldn’t talk. You were helpless and torn and hurt more than over; a combined hurt though, both yours and his. “You shouldn’t have had to keep that a secret,” you finally said, drawing out your words slowly as if you were hearing yourself for the first time. You still felt a betrayal, and you turned to him, shaking your head slightly with disbelief. “You would’ve rather had me believe that you cheated on me than admit that you do drugs?”

JJ opened and closed his mouth, and then slowly the tears pooled in his eyes, and his nose twitched like he was trying to hold back a sneeze. But he wasn’t, he was trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to take over his body. His chest crumpled in on him, and your own was panged with guilt and sorrow. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he averted his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was so fucking ashamed to tell you and…” he trailed off and his voice broke as a cry took over his body. Seeing him in pain was a hundred thousand times more awful than just you being in pain. If you thought your heart had broken before, it was nothing compared to what you felt in that moment. You knew what he needed, and you gave it to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, stretching yourself over the middle console as you pulled him into you.. He heaved heavy sobs into your chest, and you tugged him closer, your hands planting themselves firmly on his back. His body shook as he cried, repeating apologies over and over while your own tears fell into his hair and stained his shirt. “You don’t have to feel ashamed,” you whispered, your voice muffled by blonde locks. “You don’t ever have to feel like you need to hide anything.” “You hated that shit,” JJ sobbed, and you placed one hand on his head, right at the nape of his neck. “You hated it all, but with my dad and all the shit I had to deal with I just lost myself. I didn’t want you to think any less of me.” Your heart panged. Oh, how much you wished you could’ve taken his sadness from him. You wished that you could’ve stripped him from his pain and let him be swallowed by your arms and your embrace.

“Never,” you breathed, pinching your eyes shut. “Never. I would never.” “Molly Y/N. I did molly. I did hallucinogens,” he cried into your chest. You could feel the wetness of his tears seeping through your shirt, and if it was possible at all, you pulled him even closer, feeling the weight of his body against yours. It was uncomfortable over the middle console, but you didn’t care. He was in your arms after so many weeks of not being held, and you missed everything about him. You missed his scent and his laugh and his smile and his jokes and every little quirk that he had. But your pain still stood. “You really hurt me JJ,” you mumbled into his hair. “I expected the worst case scenario.” “Of course,” he whispered. “Of course.” You brought your hand up a little further on his head, then began to stroke your fingers through his hair. You could feel his body relax slightly into yours, and you let out a shaky breath. “Did you tell the others?” He shook his head into your neck. “Sort of. John B. I told almost everything, but he was still upset with me for lying.” You licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your tears.

“Me too,” you said quietly. And the two of you stayed like that for a while longer. After you had stopped crying JJ still continued to sob, and his body didn’t stop shaking until he realized that you probably had somewhere to be. “I shouldn’t keep you,” he said, pulling away quickly and swiping at his eyes. “You bought that shit for a reason.” He gestured to the groceries. You slowly pulled away as well, wiping at your own cheeks and running a hand through your hair. There was no way that you could hide your breakdown from Harry. You probably had a million texts from your mother too; it was way past dinner.

“I should’ve listened to you sooner,” you admitted quietly, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You could see the tear droplet stains on the fabric, but you didn’t care. “I was just scared of what you were going to say.” “I should’ve told you sooner,” JJ replied, his voice soft and sad. He had never been good with his emotions, you both knew that, but you could tell that everything he said then had come from the heart. He meant every word that he spoke, and he was truly sorry. It was a comforting feeling, to believe him again, but you knew that it would take a long time to trust him again. “I’m sorry I avoided you and- and doubted you.” “Don’t ever be sorry,” JJ rasped, cracking a sad smile as he wiped his eyes again. “Maybe… maybe we can talk tomorrow?” You looked down at your lap, sucking in a long breath. It was a big step to meet with JJ again. Well, meet with him intentionally. But you knew that you had to speak to him more. You weren’t just about to leave him when he needed you most. You nodded. “I’m not going to abandon you JJ. I’m so sorry.”

@daygiowvibe @kaylinfayezink @imsad05 @vibin-n-thrivin

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #jj fic #jj imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank series #lovelostseries #bluebirdsbluebellsfic

333 notes · View notes

itsnsfwalways · 4 years

Text

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #dom harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

92 notes · View notes

pinkjeanist · 4 years

Text

“daydream.” || hizashi yamada

⇥ You wore heels on the wrong day, and your legs pay the price. Luckily, Hizashi is there to help. [1.6k words]

a/n: i hate feet. i hate feet SO much. this fic SUCKS because every time i had to write the word “feet” i CRINGED. i would NEVER let hizashi or anyone else touch my feet. my feet dont exist. i hate them so much im denying their existence. [navigation]

You so desperately wished you could walk in someone else’s shoes. These heels were killing you.

It was a teacher’s development day, which meant you had to dress up, and you felt strange in anything other than heels when you wore a pencil skirt. But what Nezu had failed to tell you in his little email was that the meetings would go on for six hours. Of course, you got to sit at the meetings, but between them, you’d have to walk from building to building, and up and down stairs to get to the rooms you were assigned to. You’d worn a tall pair of heels expecting to have three meetings at most. Now, your legs were practically about to fall off.

You passed Yamada a few times during passing, in which he pointed out your struggling on the very first occurrence.

“Yo, Miss Y/l/n! What’s going on?” You quickly checked your watch to see how much time you had, and decidedly stopped as he approached. You would have been overwhelmed by the feeling in your chest if the feeling in your feet wasn’t nearly cut-off from agony (okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch).

“Oh, it’s just these heels…” You replied, letting him take your elbow as he often did. His brow furrowed in concern over his glasses. “Nezu didn’t tell me how long the day was going to be, and I decided to wear these, and now I kind of regret it.”

“Yeouch! I’d give you my shoes if I could, but I don’t think those heels would fit me! Not that I mind wearing heels, though.”

“I know,” You smiled, looking down at your feet though not so much from the pain, now. “I appreciate the sentiment. It means a lot.”

His hand moved to gently squeeze your shoulder. “Don’t get too down about it, Y/l/n! It hurts now, but you’ll be off your feet soon enough! I’ll see you back at the dorms later, okay?”

You nodded, and his hand moved quickly to pat your head before letting go of your elbow. “I’ll see you later, Yamada.”

You parted ways, and you tried not to reminisce on how his hand felt on your elbow and head as you near-stumbled to your next meeting. When he passed you twice in the hall after that, he asked if your feet were hurting any worse, and when you said yes, he gave you enough kind encouragement to not just take off your shoes and walk to the next meeting barefoot. He hugged you both of those times, and you tried not to hold him as tight as you wanted, even though his arms pulled you close like a two-armed octopus. He’s wearing a different cologne today, you thought to yourself as you continued to your last meeting.

When you finally made it back to the dorms, you collapsed on the couch with your heels tossed to the side (you didn’t even want to look at them), still in your dress clothes. Your feet hurt too much to go up to your rooms and change.

You said hi to the other teachers as they trudged in wearily after you, just as drained from the training that they knew wasn’t going to help anyone (you were only heroes, after all). You could tell Ectoplasm was near his limit with his prosthetics. Eraserhead looked like a dead man walking. But Yamada seemed more than happy as he came through the door, spotting you and rushing immediately over.

“Heya, Y/l/n! Feeling any better?”

“Oh Yamada. My feet are gonna hurt forever,” You cried with a grin. He came to sit on the floor next to the couch, by your head. “I’ve been laying here for five minutes and they’re still practically numb. This is it. This is how I die.”

“Aw, don’t talk like that! Who’s gonna jam with me to my mixtapes when you’re gone?” Your face heated up when his hand moved back to the top of your head. However, this time it stayed, and he started to almost play with it. You had to look away from him to keep your heart from imploding.

“That’s true. You do have pretty good mixtapes. They’d be perfect if you put Africa by Toto on all of them,” You smiled, thinking back to the countless arguments you’d had with him over the song.

He groaned dramatically. “It only fits on the classic rock mixtape! Do you really think it belongs on my screamo one? Or my jazzhop one? Or the Carly Rae Jepsen-and-Gaga mix?”

“Africa by Toto is a timeless classic that fits any and all situations. A day at your mom’s house. Your cocktail party. Your wedding. Your funeral. Your goldfish’s funeral. It’ll fit right in with Asking Alexandria on your screamo mixtape, I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m still not adding Africa to any other mixtapes.”

You frowned, trying not to smile. “Please-”

“No.”

“Pretty please-?”

“No!” He giggled, standing to his feet. His hand lingered for a second on the top of your head.

“You’re leaving?” You asked, your frown not very fake, this time.

“Well, I was gonna go grab some lotion to rub your feet for you, but if you want me to go-”

Your hand shot out to take a gentle hold of his wrist. “No- I mean, uhm.” You cleared your throat. “I mean, you don’t have to rub my feet. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you not want your feet rubbed? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Well, it’d be nice, but-”

“Then I’m gonna go grab my lotion. I’ll be right back, hon!” He sped off before you could protest any further. You sighed as your head hit the arm of the couch. Looking into the kitchen across from the living area, Kayama eyed you with a smirk as she made herself a sandwich. You flipped her off. She was the only person you’d told about your little thing for Yamada, which was probably a mistake, since she’d been talking about you around Yamada fairly often every chance she got-

Wait a goddamn minute. Yamada called you hon.

Your face heated up almost immediately at the thought. He gave everyone nicknames (except you), usually based on their quirk or their hero name or something like that, but he never called anyone hon. Not honey, not darling, not sweetie, not any of that. Hell, the most he would call Eraserhead was ‘Zawa, and they’d known each other since their schooling days. You’d only ever called each other by your last names, sometimes a similar abbreviation of them, but you’d never dared to go further.

It couldn’t mean anything, you told yourself. It was just a slip of the tongue-

“I’m back, sugar! You ready?” You choked at his voice. Uh. Not a slip of the tongue, then?? “Alright, I’m gonna touch your feet, now. Is that okay?”

“Uhm. Yes.” You coughed. “But you really don’t have to, I mean it- ugh…”

You fell short of words as he put his hands on your right foot, kneading into the sole. The deep ache was still there, but it felt a whole world better than it had just a split second ago, and your senses were only heightened by it being him touching you, caring for you.

“Is this alright?” He asked, and if your eyes weren’t closed, you’d probably see that shit-eating grin he always wore when he teased you, even if his voice was gentle and warm at the moment. You melted into the couch.

“You could say that, yeah…” He hummed in reply. You could feel him moving to sit on the opposite arm of the couch, putting your foot in his lap as he worked. After a while, you let yourself sigh and feed into it. The lesser part of you imagined for a second that he was your partner and doing this because he loved you, not just because he wanted to. You usually whisked away thoughts like those almost as a reflex when you were around him, but for once, you let yourself bask in it.

After a while, Yamada set your feet down on the cushions and moved to your side. You didn’t realize he was done until you felt him kneel by your head. “Does that feel any better?”

You opened your eyes, glancing briefly at him before moving your feet. There was still an ache that would only pass with time, but…”It feels amazing. Thank you.”

You tried to stand, but once you were on your feet, you nearly toppled over at the strange feeling that came from the foot rub. He was quick to catch you, and kept an arm wrapped around your waist as he led you to the stairs, even after you’d regained your bearings. “Just take it easy tonight, okay? And maybe ditch those heels. I think they’re causing more pain than they’re worth.”

A heaviness came over your chest as you tried to turn back to the living room. “Oh, my heels-”

“I’ll bring them up later. You just need to lay down, hon.”

You let yourself lean into him as he led you up to your room and into your bed, sitting at the edge for a moment to put his hand on your cheek. You swallowed, but didn’t shy away. “I’ll go get your heels. But really, you should ditch those shoes. I mean, they look really good on you, but so do those black boots you wore last week.”

The familiar heat returned to your face. “Well, uhm, I can’t really wear those to meetings…”

“I’m sure you’d look gorgeous in flats, then. Or any other shoes. You’re just gorgeous.,” He smiled, then standing as if he hadn’t just said something you’d only dreamed about ever since meeting him. “I’ll go get those heels, hon.”

You blinked as the door shut behind him. Okay, maybe you’d allow yourself one more domestic fantasy with Yamada while you waited for him to come back.

taglist: @keigos-dove @knifeewifee @hanniejji @wesparklebitch @bvnnyclouds @katsukis-sad-angel

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist.

#hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reader insert #tw: feet #that warning is for jordan #and probably jordan only #but it is a very distressing subject nonetheless

148 notes · View notes

oliverwxod · 4 years

Text

By the grace and the fire of the flames (Geralt imagine)

Pairing: Geralt x reader (the Witcher x reader)

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Geralt was assigned to protect Y/n, helping to train her to protect herself. There may be a part 2 if any one wants one.

Y/n threw a punch, heading straight towards Geralt’s face, he blocked it with ease, twisting her around and making her groan in pain, arm twisted unaturally. She turned her arm back in a harsh movement escaping his grip and catching the side of Geralt’s jaw in the process making him grunt.

She glared at him, stepping forward to punch again but he kicked her legs from under her, watching as she fell to the ground with a thud, the breath knocked out of her, winded.

Y/n went to stand but he pushed her back with his foot, boot pressing down hard on her ribs, he watched her squirm in pain before she suddenly smiled up at him.

“That the best you can do?” she teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, a ghost of laughter passing through her eyes.

Geralt almost growled, dropping to his knees, one either side of her hips, trapping her between his body and the dirt ground, his hand around her throat and pressing down harshly.

“you were saying?” he taunted.

Y/n gasped for air, she knew he would never go easy on her, he never had before, but he had never placed his hands around her neck before, that was new.

She raised her eyebrows in a mocking manner, smirking up at him.

“is it bad that i’m kinda turned on right now?” she spoke, trying to throw him off game, but Geralt’s hand only tightened around her throat.

“Talking won't win your battle” he spoke gruffly, a man of little words.

“It doesn’t hurt to try” she huffed out, voice hoarse. She struggled against his hand, her legs trapped between his, her arms unable to move as she squirmed against him.

“does this satisfy your sadistic needs” she breathed, her voice a mere whisper.

“hmm, Im not easily satisfied” he grunted, releasing his hand only slightly from her neck once he could see how her cheeks were flushed.

“I know” she spoke “and you never will be, you pushed everyone who satisfied you away... Yen... Jaskier..”

Geralt froze, the memories flashing through his mind, his hand releasing her from his grip as he moved backwards to rest on the balls of his feet. Y/n used his distraction to push him backwards, sending him flying across the ground, dirt clouding up in a mist behind him.

He grunted, muttering angrily under his breath before picking himself off the ground with a glare in her direction.

“Sometimes not being able to shut up helps win” she spoke, smirking at him from where she stood “ It’s a good way to distract the enemy”

“It’s not what I’ve taught you” he growled from across, making his way towards her, she backed up a few feet preparing for the next round of punches. He drew his sword, swinging it effortlessly around his shoulder, she retaliated, revealing hers from where it was stored across her back, moving it in front of her, slicing through the air.

Their swords met with a clash of silver and clinking of metal, Geralt dragging his downwards and pulling hers almost out of her grip, she managed to catch it before it dropped, swinging it backhand to meet his again. He stared at her, golden eyes meeting silver eyes, she could see the anger behind his, her words hitting him where she knew it would hurt him. Part of her felt bad, but the other part of her remembered that he never cared about how he spoke to her, often reminding her about the things she lost.

The reason why she was here, under his protection.

“Its what I've taught myself” she spoke, now glaring at him.

“And look how far that got you” he spat, forehead creasing into a deadly frown as he looked down at her.

“Further than you ever did” she replied, spinning around in a sudden movement and throwing her sword to the side. It hit the nearby wall with a clang before landing on the floor, Geralt followed the swords movement in confusion. He should have known, should have known from the clouding of her silver eyes into black. A small movement of her hand sent a cloud of dust into his face momentarily blinding him, ashes of grey covering him head to toe, his white hair now muddied into grey locks meaning he would have to wash later.

“Y/n” he spoke, voice now a lot softer than previous, he was hoping it would ground her, bring her back before she even left. Before the flames started.

“Y/n” he spoke deeply, “listen to me, to my voice... I'm sorry”.

“you don’t care” she growled “you’re not genuine, when are you ever genuine about your feelings” she spat, eyes now glowing bright red, ashes whispring around her in slithers of grey dust.

“Y/n” he spoke deeply again, voice controlled, if he lost control now, if he started panicking there was no chance she would calm down.

She growled in frustration, shoulders dropping along with the cloud around her, revealing her to him properly now.

“Y/n” he said, reaching forwards for her.

“no” she spoke stepping away from his touch “leave me alone” she said turning away from him, not being able to even look at his face, overcame with emotion.

He sighed heavily, following after her into the woods. Watching as the green of her cloak disappeared behind trees. weaving a pathway which he followed until reaching the small abandoned hut they had been seeking shelter in for the past few days.

The door slammed behind her, hitting the hinges before bouncing open again with the force. He followed her inside, this time closing the door behind him.

“What just happened out there?” he asked.

“nothing” she mumbled.

“bullshit” he spoke. “tell me”

“Just got too ahead of myself” she replied. “It happens, you know that. Emotions and all that shit, they get in the way sometimes”

“That’s why you don’t talk when fighting” he grunted.

“is that your way of saying I told you so?” she questioned, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips once he heard the normal tone of her voice return.

“It clouds your mind, distracts the other person, but mostly distracts yourself” he spoke.

“are you talking from experience?” she asked, interested in whether he used to be a man of more words.

“yes.” he spoke, making her ears perk up. “just 5 minutes ago”

“fuck off” she laughed gently, throwing a nearby rag at him. He caught it easily, sending it straight back at her, her playfulness returning and he hated to admit it but it brought him a sense of comfort.

“apart from the fuck up of emotions” she spoke “how did I do?”

“ah- knew it was only a matter of time until you asked.” he said “ it was fine”

“just fine?” she asked shocked “I thought it was pretty damn good”

“You need to work on your punches” he commented, brief but helpful.

“well you need to work on not being distracted by talking idiots” she threw back.

He gave a snort, a smirk pulling at his face.

“you’re not an idiot” he said shaking his head.

“well you sure make me feel like one sometimes” she shrugged, moving to walk past him. He reached out, a large hand catching her wrist in his grip.

“you’re not an idiot” he spoke. “Stubborn? yes, but that doesn’t make you an idiot”

She stared at where his hand was gripping her wrist, thumb now stroking the skin softly.

“thanks”

He tugged her arm pulling her closer to him, breath fanning across her face as she looked up, shyly meeting his eyes.

“If you were an idiot, I wouldn’t even be trying to protect you”

“Then why are you protecting me then? I can handle myself”she mumbled, glancing away from his face as the stare was too intense.

“because- I can’t lose you”

#the Witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #Geralt imagine #Geralt x reader #geralt fanfic #Henry Cavill imagine

587 notes · View notes

missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

Tale As Old As Time

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Part Nine Part Ten

Summary: The Yule Ball is finally here and maybe just once you get to be the princess in a fairy tale.

A/N: Guys, guys, this chapter IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND I’M ASDKJDADGAD anyway. Hello to those of you who are new! I love you all so much (and if anyone would like context or a visual for this chapter see Cinderella or ya know your favorite Disney princess dance sequence... there are so many) I love you all! Please let me know what you think! Also catch this on AO3 soon!!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @littlethingsinmymindla

Christmas Eve and it seemed like the week had passed faster than the week before. Between finding a last-minute present—and a letter to Mrs. Weasley to see if a miracle could really happen—and wrapping the ones I already had, I was exhausted come Christmas Eve, so I did what I did every year: I read a book.

“So, do you have a dress for the Ball?” Hermione asked as we lounged in the Common Room watching the boys play chess.

“Yeah, my mother sent me one, it was the parcel I got the other morning,” I noted, my eyes not leaving my book—A Christmas Carol.

It was the evening before the Ball as well, and we were enjoying the buzz of the common room as Christmas approaching in the morning had everyone in a stupor. I had seen Draco at dinner, but Hermione stole me back for the evening, well, she tried.

Penelope swooped in and a letter landed in my lap.

“Oh, come on, I just got you back in here,” Hermione groaned. “Doesn’t he have his own party at Slytherin?”

“Maybe he’s invited her. I’ve heard so much about how good Slytherin parties are,” Ron looked up hopefully.

I smiled and rolled my eyes, breaking the seal and opening the letter.

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower as soon as you can, dress warm.

Draco

Three pairs of eyes were on me.

“I... have to go?” I offered sheepishly.

“A party?” Ron asked.

“No, just... never mind. It’s not a party.” I shrugged as I got up and stretched.

Grabbing my winter boots, scarf and fur lined jacket—that my mother also sent—I headed own the drafty halls and up to the Astronomy Tower.

“Draco?” I called as I reached the top step. He turned, a smile making its way to his face.

“Hey,” He helped me up the stair, taking my gloved hand in his. “These are new?” He mused, eyeing the black leather fur lined gloves.

“Mother sent them; someone must have told her that I was cold.” I gave him a side eyed look. He chuckled and pulled me close

“So, the ball is tomorrow,” He began

“Yes, that is how time works,” I mused. “I believe it is Christmas as well,”

“Yes, I haven’t forgotten,” He scoffed with a smile. “And I assume, since you weren’t... here growing up, I assume you have no idea how to dance,” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, and you do?” I scoffed.

“Yes,” He answered simply. “This isn’t my first Ball Y/n,”

“So, you’ve danced with other girls before?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t as jealous as I let off, it was just fun to watch him scramble over something so simple.

“Yes,” He sounded strained.

I smiled and pulled him to the center of the walkway, pulling him close.

“Teach me then,” I took his hand and he pulled me close, into first position. “You’re right, I have never danced before,” I confessed.

“I know,” He mused. “This is going to be horrendous,”

A laugh escaped his lips and mine. I sighed and took his hand as his other rested on my waist and mine on his shoulder. Music came from somewhere, but I didn’t question it, I was too focused on not stumbling.

“It’s a pattern,” He told me. “One, two, three, four,” He instructed.

It took a few—hundred—tries, but Draco was persistent. Soon I was tripping over my own feet less and spinning around the Tower laughing as I danced almost flawlessly in sweatpants. Now only if I could do it in heels and a dress.

Draco pulled me in and be began to speed up the pace, leading me into new steps before his hands moved quickly and he easily dipped me.

“Draco!” I exclaimed and gripped for him as he righted me.

“Did you think I was going to let you fall?” He teased as our dance stilled, the two of us closer than ever.

“Haven’t you already?” I asked, my hands drifting to their familiar place around his neck.

“Have you fallen for me then, Miss Lupine?” He asked softly, the electric current growing stronger as the distance between us closed.

Staring into blue eyes, I felt the coolness of a river, and the gentle waves of the ocean, comforting me with their chill. An entire world laid behind them, one that I yearned to explore and know every part of.

“I think so,” I whispered the confession. “A Lupine and a Malfoy,” I scoffed softly.

“What an idea,” He pondered. “To fall for someone like you,”

I smiled and pressed my lips softly to his, basking in his warmth. Now that we had stopped dancing, the winter air began to seep through my clothes. When I shivered, he pulled away and chuckled.

“You know, with all the spell and potions and charms out there, you would think there would be something to keep you warm,” Draco baited.

“I have you, don’t I?” “I suppose you do,”

Draco walked me back to the Gryffindor portrait in comfortable silence. Another fleeting goodnight kiss and I was far from being cold.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow then? Seven forty-five?”

“Are you sure about this Draco... your father and the Ball...” I looked down, still worried.

“Stop it Y/n,” He chided. “It will be fine. We’re safe here.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Now go get some rest.”

“Goodnight Draco,” I whispered. “And Merry Christmas,”

He eyed me and an amused smirk played at his lips.

“Happy Christmas,” I couldn’t tell if it was a correction or if he had meant it. “Goodnight Y/n,”

Again, we exchanged a glance, three words unspoken between us: I love you.

_____________________________

Draco woke early Christmas morning to Penelope fluttering annoyed at his side, cooing for attention. He had half the idea to shove her off the bed and go back to sleep, but you couldn’t really push a bird anywhere and expect it to stay away.

Groaning and sitting up, he saw that Penelope was sitting upon two parcels, and a letter accompanying each. It dawned on him that it was Christmas morning, not just any morning, and these must be from you.

Taking the one that had your letter attached—marked by your red wax seal—he opened the letter.

Merry Christmas Draco,

We had these sweets (we called them candy) in America, I had my mother send me some, and thought you might want to try them. Sour Patch Kids are my favorite, I’m not one for chocolate, but I did include some for you to try. If not, I’m sure Crabbe or Goyle wouldn’t mind having them.

Mother also sent all of my Latin books to you because you seemed interested in it the other night. Please be careful with them, they’re worth more than you can imagine, they belonged to my great great something grandfather. I will kill you if you ruin them. Though I suppose they are yours now... still.

And, from me... well, I got you a fountain pen. It was my grandfathers, a gift from a Muggle. I know, I know. But, it’s so small, and very useful. You use it like a quill and ink, but it doesn’t splotch or smear and dries instantly. I rewrite all of my class notes with a pen so that they’re neat, and I thought you might appreciate one as well. If you don’t want it, that’s fine too...

I hope you have a merry—happy Christmas morning. I await our dance tonight,

Yours,

Y/n

P.S. I sent a letter to Mrs. Weasley as well and I do believe that she sent you one of her hand knitted sweaters, so don’t be surprised if you get one. It was me. Again, if you don’t want it... it’s okay. I know it’s a lot.

Draco tossed the letter aside and tore open the package that accompanied it. Inside, as you had said, was a few thick books, come colorful plastic wrapped candy, and a long black velvet box.

Taking the box, he discarded the lid and nestled inside was a sleek silver cylindrical object. Removing it, Draco stared at the small thing, wondering what use it had and how had Muggles ever used this when ink and quill worked just fine.

Pulling of the cap as he would an inkwell, a small golden tip greeted him, similar to the ends of his quills, but less fragile. Taking your letter, he leaned it against one of the books you have gifted to him and he wrote his name with the pen.

It glided easily across the page, leaving dark ink in its wake, spelling his name delicately. There was no need to dip it back into an inkwell, and running his finger over it, he discovered that it didn’t smear or stain his fingers.

As much as he wanted to hate it and dismiss it, claiming that nothing smart logical or good came from Muggles, he couldn’t. This pen was something else. It was useful. And he hated it. But he also loved that it was from you and that you had clearly spent a lot of time trying to figure out what would prove worth to him even though it was Muggle.

He set the pen back into the box and placed it on his desk. Having a good idea what was in the other package and who it was from, he begrudgingly opened the letter attached.

Mr. Draco

I was quite surprised when I got a letter from Miss Y/n asking for her to make this for you, but I couldn’t say no to her—she is quite persuasive and truly seems to care about you having a good Christmas this year and who was I to refuse?

Have a Happy Christmas Draco, because someone out there really cares for you.

Mrs. Weasley

Dreading opening the package, knowing exactly what was inside, Draco opened the parcel and found an emerald green and grey striped knitted sweater. There was no sign of the god-awful initial of his first name. No, it was just a normal sweater, as if you knew what to ask for and what he would wear.

A smile touched his lips as he slipped the sweater over his head and picked up the book you sent: Wheelock’s Latin. Flipping through a few pages he could see you steady writing in notes littering the margins and little bookmarks placed in odd places to him.

The room around him started to come alive as the others around him awoke, and began to tear through their presents, but he remained on his bed in his own little bubble, leafing through the books and making his way through the American sweets you had sent—particularly enjoying something called Mike and Ikes.

Because of you, he had one of the best Christmas mornings that he had in a long while. He hoped that you were as well.

___________________________

The excitement of the morning had me awake earlier than normal and I saw that Hermione was already awake. Smiles spread across our faces as we wished another a Merry Christmas then began to open the presents that laid at the foot of our beds.

Hermione had gotten me a book—the same book that I had taken from Malfoy in the library— “so that you can have your own” she explained. Harry and Ron had joined together and gotten me a new set of inkwell and quill and a bound book of parchment in emerald and gold. Mrs. Weasley went above and beyond as normal with snacks and the usual sweater; this year it was a deep red with a forest green trim and gold accents. There was another set of graphite pencils and sketchbook from my mother and new diamond earrings from my grandparents.

On its own, on my bedside table was a small package in silk green wrapping and a letter with a matching green seal. My heart fluttered as I picked it up, knowing that it was from Draco. I hope that he had gotten what I had sent and that he had accepted it.

Opening the letter, it was short and unbearably sweet:

Dearest Y/n,

For you, to remind you that we are more than names and houses.

Happy Christmas. I’ll see you tonight,

Yours,

Draco

Smiling I opened the small box and inside cushioned was a necklace. It held neither an emerald nor ruby, instead a sapphire, the color of the sea, the color of his eyes, the feeling of Animi Amoris. On a delicate silver chain and lain in a diamond encrusted heart the sapphire sat, smiling at me.

“Oh Draco,” I murmured softly.

“What he get you?” Hermione asked, grinning, coming over to my bed in her Weasley sweater.

I showed her the necklace, not letting it leave my hold.

“He really is a sap, isn’t he?” Hermione sighed

“Yeah, he is,” I smiled, putting the necklace on. “He’ll never admit it though.”

Harry and Ron met up with Hermione and me in the common room, and we went down to breakfast together. I didn’t catch sight of Draco at breakfast and I wondered where he was. Deciding not to fret too much I spent the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents—as I was, starting to sketch with my mother’s present.

Lunch was just as extravagant and featured so many turkeys I wondered exactly how long it had taken for them all to be cooked. I did see Draco at lunch, but other than a wave and a smile, there was no time for a proper hello in the fervor of the festivities, not that we didn’t try.

Time flew and soon Hermione and I were up in the Gryffindor Tower getting ready for the Ball. I had to help her with her hair and makeup, knowing a bit more in the area.

“He asked you out last night to teach you to dance?” She squeaked. “That is the cutest thing, I honestly don’t believe it,”

I rolled my eyes and pinned her hair into place.

“I think he’s been so worried about keeping up his reputation that he doesn’t know who to be, ya know? He doesn’t have the parents we do... or the friends. He’s just...” I trailed off.

“I understand, it’s just odd.” Hermione smiled.

“Yeah, but he’s still himself... just good.” I placed the final pin. “There, that should stay for the rest of... well forever.” I grinned. “No one will know it’s you Cinderella,” I teased.

“Oh, and who does that make you?

“Your fairy godmother of course,” I mocked a bow

“I’m pretty sure that makes you Belle and you’re living Beuaty and the Beast,” She pointed out mischievously.

I laughed and started to work on her makeup. She then helped me curl my hair and place it into a plaited bun. It was great fun. I teased her about Krum, and she teased me right back about Draco. We finally had time to sit and talk without anyone prying and without a deadline.

The time came and we both got into our dresses, doing finishing touches. Hermione held herself higher as we looked in the mirror, her periwinkle dress playing off of my crimson red one. Draco’s necklace hung at the hollow of my chest.

We both left the fray a bit early, I had to meet Draco and she had to meet Krum. Just as he had promised, Draco met me outside the Common Room, looking nervous and very handsome. His suit was well tailored, the stark black and white playing off another.

“Wow,” He breathed out, making me look down, blushing the color of my dress.

“My mother does have a dramatic flair, doesn’t she?” I asked, running my fingers through the layers of tulle and speckled diamonds that danced in the candlelight.

“I don’t think she has anything to do with how breathtaking you look right now,” Draco offered his hand.

I took it, taking careful graceful steps in the heels that my mother also sent me.

“You look quite handsome as well,” I complimented. “Quite a change from school uniforms is it not?”

“One that I rather enjoy,” He smiled as I held onto him, descending the stairs toward the Great Hall entrance.

Everyone in the hall stopped with the sight of us, gawking. A hush fell over the crowd as we entered the mass of students, all dressed for the occasion, all gaping—or glaring—at the two of us. I tried to not let it bother me, but I couldn’t quite let it go.

“People are staring,” I whispered.

“Y/n I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in a mirror, you are more than worth staring at.”

I looked down, suddenly very focused on not tripping. When the Great Hall doors were opened, I caught sight of Harry and Ron with their dates, the Patil twins, and gave him a small wave as we were ushered out into the lawn.

It was captivating, the sight of it all. I leaned against Draco, marveling at the fairy lights and enchantment of it all. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

“Like a fairy tale,” I whispered, letting my eyes wander.

“Shall we then,” Draco asked, leading me to one of the front tables where my—our friends were sitting.

“If he’s the Slytherin Prince then no doubt tonight you’re the Gryffindor Princess,” Fred muttered in my ear.

I let out a small laugh and looked to Draco, who raised an eyebrow in question, but I shrugged and shook my head, taking his hand in mine. With the Triwizard champions having sat and Dumbledore beginning the feast, the Hall was filled with talking and laughter and merriment.

It was comforting, watching it all. Draco fit in with the crowed around us and Hermione and Viktor were having what seemed like the best time at one of the head tables. I was happy for her; she finally was seen on the outside who she was on the inside.

Dinner had come and passed and with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore transformed the Great Hall into a dance floor. Anxiety fluttered in my chest at the thought that I would have to dance in front of people soon.

“I can hear you worrying,” Draco murmured softly, as he stood behind me his hands at my waist.

“I have to dance,” I fretted. “I’m going barefoot, I hope you know that,”

He chuckled and nodded, whether in acknowledgement or permission, I wasn’t sure. Soon other couples began to join the champions. I broke from Draco’s hold and discarded my heels under a nearby table. When I went back, I couldn’t find Draco. My eyes scanned the crowd until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Relaxing I turned and saw gentle blue eyes.

“May I have this dance?” Draco bowed slightly, offering his hand out again.

“You may,” I grinned and took it as he led me to the dance floor.

“I won’t let you fall,” He promised in a soft voice as we fell into a familiar pattern, learned only the night before.

The world faded around us as he guided me on the dance floor. My eyes never left his and a smile never left either of our faces. It was our own little world as we waltzed across the floor.

The moment held another sort of magic, one where we didn’t have to do anything but fall into step with another and dance upon the notes left by the music around us.

“Ready?” He whispered and I nodded.

Gently, as the music ended, he dipped me, father than before, but I wasn’t afraid.

He wasn’t going to let me fall.

Part 12?

146 notes · View notes

kpopcotton · 4 years

Text

Simply Soft ~ NCT 127 ver.

a/n ~ here is the final version of simply soft.. i hope you like it!!

• Prompt: johnny. just johnny. • Genre: platonic fluff, bullet point scenario, nct member!reader • Warning(s): strong desire to be a part of nct • Reader Gender: gender-neutral

==≎==

Taeil

ok google, what does soft mean?

never have you seen taeil so whipped for someone

always supporting you and looking at you with the biggest heart eyes

haechan pretends to get jealous and petty whenever taeil shows you more attention than him

you have competitions sometimes

but besides that,

you show taeil so much love and he has so much to give in return

he’s not the best at expressing his love, but you know he cares through the little things

like when he cleans up after you

or gives you firm hugs that last tens of minutes at a time when you aren’t feeling the best

or lets you rest in his bed if you fall asleep during the haechan movie nights you crash

he finds you so precious and never wants to see you sad

his favorite time to hang out with you is right after the two of you get home from a busy day

doesn’t matter what you both did, he’ll make sure to find you at the dorms

most of the time he just gives you the look which means he’s picked out some snacks and is ready when you are

to him, there is nothing better than taking a shower and then inviting you to put on face masks and dance to music

lets you pick the playlist

but, he’s very picky about what kind of music it is

either gives you one of his hoodies or steals one of yours

you both get comfy clothes on

and then apply skincare before picking a face mask and putting them on each other

lots of cute selfies that will never be shared but always treasured

in conclusion, taeil loves relaxing with you

“oh! oh, this is the song! quick, come dance!”

==≎==

Johnny

are you ready for another...

johnny’s communication center?

probably not

you’ve only gotten to appear in one of johnny’s youtube videos which was like a 40-second debut

rip y/n

however, contrary to popular belief, you do spend time with him

he’s like the best big brother in the world, even if he’s younger than you

brings you to clothing stores, coffee shops, bookstores, ikea

any place you can buy things really

his favorite places to go with you are clothing stores

forces you to try on clothes that are in his style just to see how they look on you

whines when you try to get him to wear your style of clothing

says your fashion sense is terrible and sad

but wears the clothes anyway to see your reaction

loves seeing you smile

sometimes you go through johnny’s fashion evaluation

either horrendous combinations or luxury styles

there is no in-between

in the case of horrendous combinations (which happened at a thrift store in chicago):

he had you put on a sparkly rainbow bikini top that left little to the imagination, khakis, a lumberjack flannel around your neck, a bandana around your head, sunglasses that had to be at the tip of your nose, and thigh-high, high heeled boots

you had never felt more out of place and uncomfortable in your life

but johnny loved it every second of it

you made sure to get him back though

you gave him a neon blue lacy bralette, a puke green and brown sweater that you forced him to tie into a crop top, jean shorts that were too short with leggings underneath, knee-high socks with laces pulled over the leggings, and strappy sandals

he pretended to model the outfit for you confidently but his bright red neck and cheeks gave it away that he was embarrassed

in the case of luxury items (which was in some uptown, expensive store in japan):

johnny somehow managed to pick out an outfit that accentuated all of your best features with a color that made you feel confident and sexy

you felt you had never looked better

you returned the favor of course and gave him a suit that was definitely a perfect fit and it was obviously red because when does johnny not look good in red

“damn, y/n, look at us! we are the visuals of nct no doubt!”

==≎==

Taeyong

duality.

never have you seen a more confusing duo in kpop history

aeygo to the maxxxx

charisma to that maxxxx

it’s like a metronome how fast you two change when you’re together

the power.

neither soft stans nor hard stans can handle it

the twitter timeline is a dangerous place

fans could be cooing at you both and having heart pains while commenting about how babie you two are

but then die because the next picture is you in all black with a harness doing a questionably 18+ pose with taeyong who’s probably got his signature crop top on

n e ways, let us move on

taeyong adores you so much and it honestly makes him so flustered when you spend time with him

he loves, loves, loves when you take him out

he doesn’t leave the dorm much unless it’s for work

invite him to join you anywhere and he’ll instantly agree with so much enthusiasm, it’ll make you want to give him the world (though he deserves it)

he enjoys the little things

like walking down the street and bumping shoulders every so often while you guys talk about your days

or holding hands while crossing the street to make sure the other is safe

if you go somewhere to eat and offer a bite to him, he’ll melt

do anything for him and he’ll melt, really

one time you held the door for him and he had heart eyes the rest of the night

another time, you complimented his taste in fashion while you took a few pictures of him for instagram and he couldn’t stop smiling

how can he be so precious?

always tries to impress you with a surprise while you are out

he might spoil his new solo track or pay for a meal if you stop anywhere to eat, but that’s when he’s feeling extra

one time he surprised you with a tight hug and a genuine thank you that actually made you cry

“baby, please... spend some time.. with me?”

==≎==

Yuta

you and yuta are like two peas in a pod

like peanut butter and jelly

like strawberries and chocolate

like french fries and burgers

like fish and chips

sorry, i’ll stop with food pairs im kinda hungry right now

anyways, you get it

yuta feels lost when you aren’t around. you are his best friend, his other half (winwin who?)

yuta without you just feels... wrong

nct’s instragram is full of the pictures you guys take when you go on adventures together, which is very often

it’s his favorite thing to do with you; traveling and exploring

you pull up a map on your phone and go buck wild

you’ve both found some pretty cool places and some amazing views

you found a hidden cove somewhere off the coast in california but you guys got in trouble later that day because no one could find you

turns out you guys had wandered a lot farther than you thought

the pictures you showed the group made up for it

they were gorgeous candids of the both of you, laughing and smiling together

one was a timed one where you were both jumping

all of these photos and videos were posted to instagram which made a lot of people happy just to see yuta and you so happy in your elements

sometimes, you guys force mark to join you which takes some convincing because you two are always trouble

mark wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but those moments he shares with the two of you are where he has the most fun

he never knew two people could love each other platonically as much as the two of you do

however, he wants to barf whenever you guys call each other sappy pet names because, ew, third wheeling

“where should we go today, honey?”

==≎==

Doyoung

my birthday twin, let’s get it

how do i even begin to explain how much this boy cares?

you are the third member on his “favorite member” list

now, don’t get petty when he says you’re third

the story of how you got demoted from first is a bit funny in hindsight, jeno (who’s in first) takes the liberty of making fun of you for it whenever you hang out

jungwoo (who owns second) always tries to stand up for you though

you were messing around with taeyong on top of a set-piece while shooting a music video

doyoung had scolded you and told you to stop or else you would get hurt

you decided to laugh off his warning because you “weren’t that clumsy”

turns out you were

taeyong did something cool (when does he not?) and you wanted to try it, so after he told you how to do it a few times, you did

you fell

not very far, only a couple feet, but you landed on your back

the sound was so loud that it startled everyone

doyoung had a heart attack

he thought you died

you had the wind knocked out of you and your back was a little sore, but other than that you were fine

at least ten people swarmed you

including taeyong who was apologizing like crazy

doyoung was right there, lifting you up and already giving you an earful about how he told you to be cautious

once people were sure you were fine and didn’t have a concussion, they left you alone

doyoung doesn’t like much physical affection, but he’ll put that aside to smother you against his chest and harshly reprimand you

he’s a mom friend and will always be

will never tell you, but he prizes the moments when you get sick or hurt

sounds sadistic, and maybe it is, but he loves when you are a helpless baby and he has to take care of you

always scolding you for compromising your health, but doesn’t stop pampering you

tells the other members off when they try to help him

makes you soup when you are sick and gets you anything you ask for without complaint

if you get hurt, he’s right there with some form of first aid

and since i know you’re wondering: yes, he will cuddle you if you ask.

“come to me when you need help, you dumb baby.”

==≎==

Jaehyun

jung jaehyun is the definition of boyfriend material

when you two get together, the aesthetic blogs pale in comparison

everything the two of you do together is an aesthetic, really

golden hour selfies on rooftops where your skin glows and your eyes look the most beautiful

candids on the streets of the city where you're illuminated by the street signs

coffee shop pictures where you look so perfectly in your element sipping coffee and looking out the window

snapshots of “date nights” where you stay in to watch movies or kdramas with popcorn, candy, and a bottle of wine

couple’s outfits where you pose like models while someone takes your photo

you guys do it all

honestly, the biggest ship in all of nct is you and jaehyun

fanfiction writers are jealous no doubt because how the hell can the two of you live out their writings so flawlessly

some people use the pictures the two of you take as templates for their mood boards or “nct as boyfriends” projects

you both probably started a vlog series on the nct youtube account

however, the time you guys spend together is strictly platonic, no matter how badly people want you two to “just date”

neither of you tries anything romantic because blegh, disgusting, i’ve known this person for so long they are literally my best friend, my sibling, a family member i’ve never had but always wanted

sure, jaehyun’s ears turn red whenever you guys dress up in similar outfits but it’s because of people’s reactions

if you see a picture with jaehyun shy next to you, it’s probably because johnny is screaming behind the scenes about how good the two of you look

speaking of johnny, he’s the hype man

also, sort of, maybe, kinda the reason you guys do so much aesthetic stuff

he says you guys are too good looking not to “bless the world with your visuals”

to sum this up, jaehyun treasures you and does the most with you

“what are you wearing today? we should match since it’s our friend-iversary!”

==≎==

WinWin

see wayv ver.

==≎==

Jungwoo

i love him with all my heart and i really miss him right now

it’s real soft hours up in here

not a single moment where you aren’t giving each other all the love you can muster

big comfy sweaters with sweater paws

love confessions every hour

always telling you he loves you and that you are his

treats you like royalty while also babying you into next week

he’s honestly the sweetest person on the planet and he can’t handle himself around you because dang, you really be out here existing and stuff

looking that good

since he’s so affectionate, i see him cuddling you like there’s no tomorrow

will build a pillow fort for you

honestly, he will do anything for you as long as you say please

not afraid to kiss you either. don’t matter where or when, he’s ready

some would say it’s his favorite thing to do

your cheek looking extra squishy that day? his lips have claimed that territory

your forehead exposed? kiss.

your neck easily accessible? smooch.

your hand in his? peck.

your lips in a pout? he better hold himself back because he’s about ready to risk it all just to give you a kith

the other members try not to seem too surprised every time you accept his lips on your skin

they freak out whenever it happens to them, or get super flustered

they don’t know how you handle his affection so well

you say it’s a talent when they ask you

a.k.a. you treasure all the affection he gives you because he is literally the best boy and you would die for him

he worships you on the daily (lucky)

he says his heart beats irregularly whenever you are around because he loves you that much

it was actually scientifically proven during a tv show when you had to make other members’ heart rates fluctuate with aegyo

you hadn’t started doing anything yet, but just by looking at you his heart did a boom boom and everyone freaked out

holds the title of the member with the best hair second-biggest ship in all of nct and of course, it’s with you

fans have so many videos of jungwoo hanging off of you and being clingy

always talking about you like you put the stars in the sky

you know that video when jungwoo was giving mark “the look”? it’s like that with you but at least ten times worse and all the time because you are his baby, his world, his favorite member

always has to comment about what you two did that day

never ever forgets to talk about how much he cares about you

“yeah, y/n and i are close. i love them with all my heart. they are perfect!”

==≎==

Mark

see dreamies ver

==≎==

Haechan

see dreamies ver

156 notes · View notes

thereallinksstuff · 4 years

Text

Uhm here's my first fic in like 8 years, I hope it isn't to bad.

Fandom : sander sides ,

Pairings: intrulogical, background royality hint of anxciet

Words: idk fahm

He felt the familiar tug of Thomas summoning them, he sighed in annoyance at being disturbed.

He popped up just like any other day he was summoned only this time everyone was staring at him. "Why are you all looking at me as though my head has turned into Barneys armpit?"

"Uh....Nice outfit logan" Virgil managed through his suprise at logan not being in his normal tie and black polo.

Looking around the room at everyone staring at him, Logan realised he hadn't changed into his work clothes. No instead he was wearing large spiked combat boots, torn black skinny jeans, with a sleeveless punk rocker style Jean vest. Even his hair was a vibrant blue instead of the normal brown.

"Uhm...Logan? How come your dressed like that?" Patton had asked curiously.

being pulled from his thoughts by Patton's question logan turned to look at the fatherly side,

"Well it is not my usual attire, I am comfortable like this. I merely forgot to change before popping up. If you would all continue with the discussion you were having prior I would be grateful."

"I agree, let's get back on topic."

Logan was thankful for their host for helping in getting everyone's eyes off of him.

For the next hour or so they discussed whether or not Thomas should do one thing or the other, He didn't pay much attention. He was too focused on a strange feeling (heh feeling) that someone was in his room.

As soon as Thomas had his issue resolved Logan was the first to say goodbye, of course with a reminder to drink water and be healthy, but he was out of there quickly.

When he got back to his room he didn't immediately see anyone there, curious as to why he felt like someone had been. Looking around his room he noted how all the books were in place, his bed was still neatly made, his closet doors were slightly open as he had left them. Taking a moment to double check inside his closet, he felt like someone had their eyes on him. As he walked out of his closet he noticed a small paper and box on his desk.

Making his way over he examined the note with a strange curiosity.

To Lo,

I have a proposition for you, if you would like more info, check the kitchen ; )

From, someone.

As curious as Logan was about the note, he loved a good puzzle after all, he looked inside the little box. Inside there was a small space pin that had 'viva la pluto' written on a small ribbon. To say he was shocked was an understatement, he was baffled as to who would have given him something so nice and who would have gone through the trouble of learning about his disdain for Pluto no longer being a planet. 'It is a planet, stupid people.' he thought as he placed the pin on his vest. Making his way down to the kitchen he noticed Patton making dinner with Roman and Virgil not around, possibly in their rooms.

"Hello Patton, I wanted to apologize for my appearance today with Thomas, I nearly forgot to change, I will make sure it doesn't happen again."

Turning around and smiling brightly at Logan, Patton just gave him a shrugging wave. " It's alright Logan, I think we were all just surprised to see you...all punked out." "I understand the confusion Pat, I tend to only allow myself to dress this comfortably when there is nothing that will need my sudden appearance."

He Gave Patton a small smile while looking around the room, he noticed a small deep blue note on the counter, "hey pat, who's the note for?"

Patton turned and followed Logan's gaze- " oh that? Im not sure who it's from but it's got your name on it." Logan walked over and picked up the note, choosing to pocket it for the moment. "Well I am going to go reorganize my books, I shall see you at dinner Patton." He finished saying as he walked into the shared living room. Pausing for just a moment to read the note.

To my Star

I know you like to read so check your favourite book to find the next clue

From someone cool.

As he made his way back up to his room he couldn't stop himself from theorizing who the notes were from, it wouldn't have been Patton as he was with Roman, and Roman well, to be honest he didn't think Roman would do something this simple..

As he entered his room, he almost immediately noticed ' the murder of Agitha Christy ' sitting on his bed- not on the shelf. Sitting down on his bed picking up the book, he fondly remembered the first time he read the book, it was such a nice memory. When he opened the book he saw the note, gently taking it out and setting the book back on his bed, he read the note.

To My Sun,

I know this has been short but here is your final clue, meet me where you'd least expect me, yet exactly where someone like me would be.

Love your admirer.

'My Admirer?' he thought to himself as he got up to return his book to its place. Thinking logically he slowly went through the list of who it could be, Patton and Roman were quickly ruled out seeing as they were together. Only for a moment did he think it'd be Virgil, but realizing that Virgil currently likes Deciet, it wouldn't be him. Pacing back and forth in his room for a good 20 minutes he decides to try looking around the 'basement.'

No it wasn't really a basement more like where deciet and Remus chose to have their rooms.

Walking down the hallway that leads toward the 'dark sides' as Roman puts it, login again felt like he was being watched.

Making his was down to the common area for the 'dark' sides logan looked around seeing neither deciet or Remus. After a few moments of looking he sighed and thought out loud to himself. "who would send these notes, especially to me?' after all he was the 'nerd' he was logic. Although he didn't enjoy the nerd aesthetic as much as his punk one, he just couldn't get his thoughts to a conclusive answer about why someone would admire him.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Remus come up from who knows where to stand right infront of him.

"HIYA Logan, whatcha doing down here?"

Be started into reality, login recomposed himself before answering, "I was looking for the author of some notes that I've been left, I am merley looking everywhere." He replied maybe. Little quickly, he had hoped Remus didn't pick up on it.

"Oh well, that sounds fun can I help you??"

Remus asked while bouncing on his feet, seemingly excited about being able to help someone. For a few moments logan questioned why Remus would want to help him, however he couldn't bring himself to a logical conclusion as to why he shouldn't let him help. He sat down on the couch that was behind him, and held the note out to Remus. "This is the last note I received however I do not know who the author is, and such I figured I just look around in places I wouldn't normally go." He finished with a huff, looking up towards Remus. He was reading the Note and doing his weird thinking face, Logan took this time to really get a look at Remus, he wasnt in his normal Dukey attire, he was wearing something more akin to how logan was dressed. Biker boots, ripped cutoff shorts, a black sleeveless t-shirt that read 'could be gayer' across the chest and a fully studded and patch covered Jacket. Logan laughed a little to himself about the similarities between his and remus's styles.

"Well, do you have an idea as to where I should look Re?"

Almost as if he had forgotten Logan was there Remus blinked then bounced right back into energy town. "I DO!!" He shouted and grabbed logan by the wrist. "I know this seems kinda crazy but just follow me!" Remus bounced forward dragging logan along with him. Ignoring the nice feeling of having someone else hold you, Logan followed after Remus, hoping it wasn't to far.

"Okay I'm gonna need you to close your eyes and trust me." Remus asked as he stopped in front of a door Logan didn't recognize. "May I ask why Remus, I do not wish to be the subject of your pranks."

Remus looked around quickly trying to come up with an excuse, not being able to think of a good one, he replied simply. "it's a surprise! But also because we have to cut through a part of my imagination. And I don't want you to be er.. grossed out?" Remus finished quietly, being considerate of the others feelings was a bit strange to Logan, seeing as Remus rarely did it, however he was more curious as to who the author of the notes was. He made the decision to trust Remus, and of he was honest with himself, he was hoping Remus was the author, seeing as he liked Remus for quite a while now.

"Alright Remus, I trust you to keep me safe, we can go when you are ready." Logan adjusted his glasses to look at Remus, who had been staring at logan with a wide grin plastered on, but slowly it wavered as he processed what logan had said. "You...you actually trust me enough to enter my imagination?" He asked, looking down rubbing his hands awkwardly together.

"Well yes, you may not have the nicest or cleanest thoughts and ideas, but you are a part of Thomas, and to be honest with you Remus, there are times when I prefer deciet and yours company more than the others. You are unpredictable and can be a bit much however, I have no reason to not trust you. You have never directly hurt me, or the others - well minus roman." Hoping that He didn't pick up on the emotions behind his words, Logan let out a small breath he didn't realize he was holding as Remus bounced in excitement. "Okay, let's go!"

Grabbing Logan's hand instead of wrist this time, Remus pulled logan into his imagination as soon as the other's eyes were closed.

Logan now with his eyes closed and his hand in remus' , he hoped Remus knew where he was going, but then again, He tended to know a lot of weird things, so he let himself get pulled along what sounded like a dirt path. Every so often he would hear humming from Remus as the walked. It had only been 10 minutes of walking but to Login it felt like longer, what with his eyes being closed and all that.

"Okay stay right there with your eyes closed." Remus had asked him calmly, with what seemed like nervousness in his voice if only a little.

"I.. uh okay" Logan replied trying to show as little confusion as possible. He could hear Remus walk towards and open something but, without the visuals he couldn't identify it, so he waited patiently playing with the various spikes on his wristband.

Remus slowly walked back over to Logan, a bouquet of wilted flowers in his hands (he tried for days to make living flowers but couldnt)

He gently tapped logan on the shoulder, "okay you can open your eyes now" he said with such gentleness that the other had not heard before, slowly opening his eyes and looking at his surroundings, he couldn't help but to be shocked. Up in the night sky there were thousands of glowing stars with a large shining moon bathing both men in a nice calm light.

As Logan looked around he noticed the partially alive trees and bushes that surrounded the clearing they were in. Remus had a wonderful imagination,sure, there were random creatures wandering around and random dirty jokes personified everywhere but it was wonderful in its own way. He wondered why so few were willing to see it.

Finally looking over at Remus, Logan noticed how he was already looking at him, with a goofy grin on his face holding what seemed to be withered flowers. "I know you are a hesitant person sometimes and that you like to do things in the most logical order. However demented or disturbing to the other my ideas and thoughts are, you help them to understand me better. Which I can't thank you enough for. So Logan Sanders...would you like to...go kill people together? LikeBoyfriendsShould? On a regular bases?"

It took a moment for logan to process all of what Remus had been saying, and if his thinking was right Remus was the author of the notes, and he was asking him out in a very Remus way...

For once Logan didn't have the words to respond, the side he has had feelings for, for a while is asking him out and to be his boyfriend. Before his logical thinking could stop him he stepped forward grabbing Remus by his jacket collar pulling him into a kiss.

Taking the kiss as a yes, Remus slid his hands around Logan's waist, kissing him back with passion in an attempt to communicate how happy he is. When they pull apart logan looks at him with a sparkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for learning. However right here right now, with Remus, in his imagination logan couldn't be happier, even with all his grossness or disturbing thoughts, Remus was the one for him.

"Thank you, and to verbally express my feelings, I accept your offer to be in a romantic relationship, Darling."

"Haha I figured from the kiss but thank you, to hear you say it makes my heart explode into a million pieces hahah." Leaning his head on Logan's shoulder the two sit and talk until dinner, to which they both go to, sharing glances and holding hands, much to everyone else's confusion. they lived punkily ever after.

I hope y'all like it, let me know if you do

Sorry for any errors in grammer or spelling, it isn't my strong suit

#sandersides #punk logan #punk logan sanders #punk remus #punk remus sanders #writing #intrulogical #royality #anxciet #be nice i havent written i years

107 notes · View notes