#I’m not really good at explaining things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shaunashoochiebae · 20 hours

Text

everything good happens after midnight ᯓᡣ𐭩

pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

warnings: divorced art, mentions of a failed marriage, lily lowkey being cupid, alcohol use, small timeskips, set in 2019, minor swearing, small age gap (r is 24, art is 31), forced proximity?, tension, making out, slight height difference (not specified), written kinda weird i dunno how to explain it, unironic use of the word ‘girlboss’, not proofread

word count: 4.3k

a/n: be a freak in the club !!! ty chappell roan for the inspo xxx also please don’t flame me for this guys. i’ve never written a full fic for a man b4, had to google some words, had to pull out my pinterest board titled ‘writing stuff’ for this one, my longest fic ever!!! let’s clap xx

disclaimer: i am a minor, if what i write makes you uncomfortable knowing that i’m a minor dni!!! don’t complain to me because i can do what i want okay thank you bye x

The time on your phone read 8:27P.M. You sat backstage, fixing up your makeup and warming up your voice for the show you were about to start. All you could hear from the crowd behind the curtain was screams and chatter.

Your manager came up to you at your vanity, he cleared his throat before he spoke, “On in two minutes.” You looked back at him and gave him a nod as you stood up, flattening your short leather skirt and most beautifully designed corset.

Your manager came back to you, microphone in hand and gave it to you, “You got it, you’ll be great.” He gave you a wink and you nodded, walking onto the stage.

As you stepped out onto the stage you put on your persona, that bubbly, energetic singer that all of your fans knew and loved. You waved to the huge crowd of people and spoke into the microphone loudly, “How are we doing tonight?!”

All around you, you heard cheers and screams which made you smile. You waited a minute for the cheers to die down before you spoke again, “y’know, that’s real good to hear. It’s my first show here, did you know that?” you asked the crowd. You heard replies of “no!” and “really?!” You nodded, a cheeky grin on your face, “I know, I know. But, that’s a good thing. I’ve got a real special show prepared for y’all tonight,” you announced to the crowd, pacing around the stage slowly.

Cheers instantly filled your ears, fans excited to see what you had to show them. One fan in particular, a tall man with blonde hair caught your eye. He was smiling down at someone shorter, maybe his daughter, and pointed at the stage, telling her what was happening. You nodded to yourself, “alright! Well, I can tell you all we’re gonna start with a banger. Not that I’m biased or anything..” you mumbled into the microphone which caused the venue to erupt in laughter. As your band was already on stage, the instrumental to a popular song of yours began playing and you smiled, “I hope y’all know this one. I’d be embarrassed if you didn’t,” you winked just before you counted yourself into the song.

2 HOURS LATER

“You guys were such an amazing crowd, I’m so glad this was my first show here! Y’all really didn’t hold back on that last song,” you chuckled as you spoke to the crowd. You reached for your bottle of water and sipped from it, rubbing your neck, “hey! I may or may not be doing merch signing at the back exit..” you whispered into the microphone, wiggling your eyebrows, “be there!” Now, that wasn’t entirely true. Sure, you wanted to do a signing after your show but was it planned? No.. But, in your defence you wanted to see if that blonde guy would come to the back, exchange numbers maybe… Huh? Who are you kidding, he probably has a wife! Who’s also probably waiting for them at home, it is pretty late. You checked your watch; 10:38P.M. Probably way past their daughters bed time, too. Gosh.

You waved goodbye to the crowd, blowing kisses. As soon as you got backstage you tried to find your manager. Where was he? Right. Where he always is, the bar backstage. Better not talk to him while he was drunk, so you told your assistant manger instead. Sweet girl, unfortunate she’s a lower rank than that asshole of a man. “Hey, love. Um, I know we have to get going back to the hotel soon, but I told the crowd I was signing stuff at the back exit. Can you cover for me if Sam asks?”

Your assistant manager nodded, writing what you said down on her clipboard, “got it. Why can’t you talk to him yourself, though? Just wondering, it’s not an attack on you,” she asked with a chuckle. You sighed, looking down at your feet, “He’s in the bar. He’s probably drunk. I don’t wanna have to deal with him right now.” Your assistant manager nodded, clapping you on the back, “not a problem. I’ll go talk to him,” and with that, she left you. All you had to do now was say hi to a few people, sign some things and be on your way.

You made your way to the back exit of the venue, weaving in and out through wires and auxiliaries. Pushing the fire exit open, you were met with tens of smiling faces, pens at the ready. Oh, alright. Tonight’s gonna be a long night. Squeals could probably be heard from states away as you made eye contact with a few fans. “Oh, my God! Can you sign this for me please?!” Pens and paper were pushed into your face, barely getting any room to breathe. A security guard would be nice right about now, you thought.

You took a deep breath before you spoke, almost shouting, “sorry, if you would like me to sign something or take a photo, please be patient. There’s a lot of y’all, and one of me. Imma take my time with all of y’all, make it special. Is that alright?”

You were met with nods and replies of “yes!”, “sorry!” and “alright!” You sighed in relief, “Okay, good. If you want, you can form a line.” Fans struggled against each other, pushing and shoving to be first in line. Surprisingly, a small teenage girl made it first in line, despite the shoving. You smiled brightly at her, making casual conversation, “hi, what’s your name?” She replied in a whisper, “it’s Julianne.” You nodded, humming, “that’s a beautiful name. Do you want to take a photo or do you want me to sign something for you?” Julianne nodded, her hands quickly going to her pockets for her phone. “Can we take a picture?” she asked kindly and you replied, “of course we can, sweetie,” with a chuckle.

She opened up the camera app and readied herself for the photo, posing casually. You followed her lead, a peace sign on your fingers as you winked at the camera. As soon as the picture was taken she quickly turned back to you, hugging you. “Oh!” you almost yelped, obviously not expecting the sudden embrace, but hugged her back anyway. “It was great to meet you,” you whispered to her before she waved goodbye and left.

45 MINUTES LATER

After making your way through almost every fan, you were left standing with two people. A little girl and her father, the tall blonde man who had caught your eye. You smiled at the pair, “last two, huh?” you chuckled. “Anything to sign?” The man nodded, “she’s a little shy,” he gestured to his daughter, “she’s always talking about you at home,” he added with a chuckle. “Anyway, could you sign this?” he asked, grabbing what looked like a CD case out of a backpack slung over his daughters shoulder. He handed you the case, “don’t ask.”

You looked down at the case in your hands and your eyes brightened, “Spiderverse? I like that movie too,” you said to the little girl. You pulled out the Sharpie from your hair, conveniently hidden away, and pressed it to the case. Fuck. It’s wasted. Your face dropped in embarrassment, “I’m so sorry,” you chuckled lightheartedly, “my pen’s wasted. Have either of y’all got one?”

The man sighed heavily, “I’ve got one in the car. I’ll go get it, I’ll be right back, sweetie,” he told his daughter before he jogged away to his car. You looked down at the girl, “what’s your name?” you asked curiously, she looked up at you, her big brown eyes shining, “Lily.” You nodded, “that’s a beautiful name, Lily. What about your dad, do you know his name?” Lily nodded, “mhm. His name is Art.” You chuckled, not expecting such a name. “Wow, cool name, huh?”

Art returned, pen in his hand. “Here you go,” he smiled, handing the pen to you. You took it, popped off the cap and quickly signed the case. Lily took the case from your hands, a great big smile on her face, “thank you!” Art smiled down at her, and then at you, “thank you so much,” he said, taking the pen from you. “Hey, just out of curiosity, what hotel are you staying at tonight?” Art asked you, taking his daughter’s hand in his, “we could give you a ride. If we’re lucky enough, we might be staying in the same place.” You thought to yourself, do I let this hot man I don’t know bring me back to my hotel, leaving my team completely unaware as to where I am or do I decline and leave with my team? Tricky question.. You shrugged, “I’m staying at the Black Bird Plaza, do you know it?” Arts face lit up and he chuckled, “yeah, I do. We’re staying there as well.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “oh, wow. Y’all are lucky, huh?” Art nodded, a smirk on his face, “do you wanna get a drink at the bar?” Never one to say no to a drink, you nodded. “Great! Guess I’ll be your chauffeur for tonight,” he added.

“C’mon,” he said finally as he began walking to his car and you followed. “Are y’all from around here? I assume not.” Art shook his head, “no, we’re not from here. A few states over. Lily saw you weren’t coming to our city, so we traveled.” You chuckled, respecting the dedication, “big fan.” “You have no idea,” he replied.

Art unlocked his car and opened the door for you, “thank you,” you smiled, sitting in the passenger seat. Buckling yourself in, he helped Lily into the back, “do you need help putting on your seatbelt or are you good?” Lily declined, buckling her own seatbelt like the girlboss that she is. Art nodded, and got into the drivers seat.

10 MINUTES LATER

Art parked his car in the hotel parking lot and helped both you and Lily out of the car. You checked your watch, 11:25 P.M. You turned to Art as you all entered the lobby, “wouldn’t the bar be closed by now?” you asked. He shook his head, pressing the button for the elevator, “don’t worry about it. I’m liked around here.” You laughed at his certainty, “alright then.” The three of you entered the elevator as the doors opened, “Lily, we’re gonna sit at the bar for.. maybe an hour, okay? I’ll turn on the T.V. for you, just don’t leave the room and don’t open the door for anyone, got it?”

Lily nodded, “mhm. Can I have a snack from the mini fridge?” Art looked at you and you both chuckled, “of course you can, sweetie,” he told Lily. He pulled his room key out of his pocket when the elevator doors opened. Two young ladies were standing, waiting for the elevator and saw you. Their faces instantly lit up, “Oh. My. God!” one of the girls chuckled out, “can we get a picture?” You nodded, selling out of the elevator, “of course!” Art and Lily followed, he nudged you, “gonna go to the room. We’re in room 276.” You nodded, and just as he was going to leave one of the girls spoke tremulously, “wait! You, too. You’re my dad’s favourite tennis player, he’d be so stoked to know I met him.”

Your eyebrows creased together as you looked back at him, “tennis player?” He shrugged, an awkward smile on his face, “yeeeah?” He walked back over to you and the girls, leaving Lily to fend for herself and smiled for the pictures. The girls giddily spoke to each other after the pictures, “this has to go onto my Instagram. My actual popstar idol and a super hot tennis player? I’ll literally go viral.” You and Art shared a glance and knowingly smiled at each other.

The girls entered the elevator, still excitedly chatting. You noticed that Lily wasn’t next to Art anymore, “oh, no. Where did Lily go?” Art brushed you off, “she’s probably already waiting for us outside the room. She’s used to having a famous dad,” he gloated sarcastically. “Uh-huh,” you nodded with a scoff.

You followed him back to his room where Lily was standing safe and sound, she leaned her head against the door tiredly. Art rapped on the door, “wake up, Lily.” She lifted her head up from the door, “I’m awake, dad.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Lily ran in and sat in front of the mini fridge, rummaging through the snacks. Art allowed you inside before he followed. You glanced around the room, pretty big room for two people, you thought. Lily picked out her snack and walked over to Art, “I’m gonna have this one.” He looked down at her and nodded, “go ahead.” She gave him a hug and he kissed her gently on the cheek, “you going to bed?” he asked her and she nodded. “Good. It’s way past your bedtime,” he responded lightly. “We’re going to the bar, we’ll be back up soon, okay? Love you.” They waved goodbye and you both left the room.

Art began walking down the hall and you asked him, “you can trust her to set her sleep there alone?” He nodded, pressing the elevator button, “she’s a big girl. She’ll be safe, don’t worry.”

The doors opened slowly and you stepped inside. Art looked at you curiously as he followed you, “you are over 21, aren’t you?” You chuckled, “you didn’t do your research. I’m 24, so yeah. I’m legal.” Art scoffed, “alright, sue me. I just wanted to make sure, okay?” The doors closed and suddenly you felt claustrophobic. No, the elevator wasn’t small, there was enough room to breathe. So, why couldn’t you? Was it the fact that you were in a concealed space with a super hot dilf- I mean, super cool tennis player? Shit, probably. You looked at your watch to try and calm your nerves, you seemed to do that a lot. The time was 11:48 P.M.

You scratched your neck before speaking, “I didn’t bring my purse. You are planning on paying for these drinks right?” He frowned mockingly, “oh. Well, I guess you can just go back to your room.” You let out a sigh of relief, “yeah, okay. Just checking.” “It’s only gentlemanly,” he started, “how should I ask a pretty woman out to drinks and not pay? That’s just rude.”

You scoffed, ignoring just how flustered that statement made you, “oh, nice. Smooth, even.” The doors creaked open and he stepped out, shrugging, “I thought that was good,” his words echoed through the empty lobby. The sound of your heels on the marble floor mocked his words as they echoed after him.

The elevator was only a few steps away from the bar and yet it felt miles away. Once you crossed the threshold you sighed with relief, a heavy weight taken off your shoulders suddenly. Art guided you to a small table next to a window, the lights dim and seats soft. You gave him a smile, “what do you drink?” he asked. Oh. What do you drink? Did you know you’ve been sober for over a year? Now you know! “Just get me a whiskey coke,” you blurted out. He raised an eyebrow at you, “you sure that’s what you want?” You shook your head, a frown on your face, “I dunno, get me something sweet, I guess.”

He gave you a nod, “you got it.” He walked over to the bar and leaned on his elbows as he spoke to the barman. What you heard could only be described as ‘acquaintances who have a semi mutual friend who is never around so conversation is hard to get flowing and is usually awkward. so, communication is normally short nods, mumbles and thanks’. He came back over to the table, two drinks in hand; a beer and a… Shirley Temple? Your eyebrows creased as you looked up at him, “seriously?” He waved you off, “Dirty Shirley,” he claimed, setting the drinks onto the table. “Oh.” You grabbed your drink and sipped it cautiously, he took a seat opposite you.

You tasted the drink warily, and nodded to yourself. “It’s good,” you mumbled. He snickered, “it’s just a Shirley with vodka, it’s nothing special.” You shrugged, swallowing a sip, “so? It’s good. What’d you get?” You turned his beer bottle to face you, ‘Carlsberg’ is what the label read. “Any good?” you asked him. “It’s fine, used to drink it in college.” Ah. You nodded, “nostalgic, huh?” He shrugged, “I guess.”

Suddenly, a few questions popped into your head. “Should’ve asked this earlier, how old are you?” He sighed, setting down his beer, cleared his throat, “32.” You nodded, kind of expecting him to be older, “alright, not bad,” you half-shrugged. “Do you.. have a wife?” He froze up a little. Oh. “Uh, no.” Frown on your lips you asked, “really? You’re a good looking man and you’re an athlete, it’s kinda hard to believe,” you laughed softly. “Hm. Relationships don’t work out sometimes,” he replied, taking a swig of his beer. “Tell me about it,” you reciprocated, rolling your eyes.

He cleared his throat, trying to move from the subject, “anyway. You been singing long?” You sipped your drink before answering, “I guess, yeah. I was in choir in middle school, so. I’ve always had ‘the talent’, y’know? But, I’ve been a singer since.. what is it now? 2014? So, five years going strong, give or take a few months.” He grinned from ear to ear, clearly very impressed, “wow. Long time, huh? You don’t get bored?” You sipped your drink and squinted at him, shaking your head, “don’t you get bored of tennis?” He made an iffy face, as if he didn’t really know the answer to your question.

“Hmmmmm…” you hummed as you looked at him sideways, “we’re very different, I see.” Pretty much after gulping the rest of your drink down you asked him one more question, “how old is Lily?” “She’s 8,” Art answered with a stiff nod. “She’s a good kid. You’re a good dad, too.” Art made a somewhat uncomfortable noise but thanked you anyhow.

“Sorry, that was kinda sudden,” you chuckled. “That’s alright, I appreciate it. I’ll grab you another drink,” he responded, standing up from his seat. Another less than acquaintanced conversation between Art and the barman. Jeez. You could feel the anxiousness of the conversation from your seat.

He came back over, another Dirty Shirley in hand and gave it to you. “Thanks,” you began sipping your drink again. “Barman’s closing up in 5, you’ll have to drink that fast,” Art told you lingering at the table, rather than sitting down. He picked up his beer and started drinking it a little faster than what would be considered a ‘normal’ beer drinking pace. You gave a nod and started uncomfortably gulping down your drink. You placed the glass on the table once you finished, fishing for the maraschino cherry at the bottom.

You got up from the table, pushing your chair in before you left the bar. Walking back to the elevator you tried to make conversation with Art, “thanks for the drinks. Haven’t had one of those before, they’re good.” “Not a problem,” he replied, pressing the elevator button.

The doors opened instantly and you both stepped in, ladies first. The doors closed slowly as you stood face to face with him. The slight smell of alcohol filling the elevator was gross. Slightly intoxicating. The elevator stopped suddenly with a jolt. Art sighed, “we’re stuck.” You groaned, “seriously? Does this happen often?” He nodded, eyes widened slightly, “oh, yeah. Fantastic hotel, super old elevators. It’s sad.” “Is there an emergency bell for things like this?” You asked, examining the buttons which read: ‘0, 1, 2, 3, 4’. Four floors and no emergency button? Jesus Christ.

He shook his head, “nope. We just have to wait it out. Usually takes ten minutes for assistance.” You looked at your watch again, 12:07 P.M. What’s a better way to pass the time than make a move? Probably a lot. But that just didn’t register in the moment. You never really mastered the whole flirting thing, usually you weren’t the one to shoot your shot. Clearly, you liked this guy. Maybe he liked you, too? What’s an invite out to drinks with a stranger? Basically a date.

“You look nice,” you finally got out, looking at his shoes. His brows furrowed and he chuckled, “are you trying to make conversation or are you trying to flirt?” Fuck, he caught you out. Play it cool. “Uh, no. Obviously not, we’re just stuck here, in this elevator, and I noticed you look nice, is that okay?” You said quickly. Art chuckled, running a hand through his hair like the dream boat that he is- who said that? “Look, we both know why I invited you for a drink. I think you’re pretty fine, and I know you think the same about me,” he stated, giving you a look.

You squinted at him, “it’s rude that you think so highly of yourself..” your complaint was cut short as Art pressed his lips against your quickly which made your eyes widen to the heavens. He pushed himself away from you just as quickly as he pulled himself to you. “Sorry,” he mumbled with a chuckle, “I should’ve asked you.” You shook your head quickly before forcing your lips back onto his in a desperate attempt to feel what you felt when he first kissed you. Did that catch him off guard? No, not really. He knew you’d kiss him back anyway, he’s Art Donaldson, he does fine for himself and he knows it.

You pressed a kiss to his neck which caused a choked moan to escape his lips. Now, that caught you off guard. He plays tennis, he should have a lot of practice trying to keep grunts in when he plays, right? Maybe you’re just that good. Props to you. Well, now you knew; his neck is the Jackpot. So, you abused the fuck out of his neck. Not literally. But continuously kissing his neck, biting it even and hearing him whine did wonderful things for your ego.

His hands made their way to your waist and pulled you impossibly closer to him and you groaned as you took a breather, “your lips feel nice on mine,” you told him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Don’t be such a tease,” he warned breathlessly, to which you replied, “or what? You gonna whine again?” He rolled her eyes, his tongue prodding at his cheek in faux annoyance. You were about to kiss him again when the doors creaked open and outside stood a trio of firefighters who stared blankly at you both, “alright in here?” one of them asked to which Art replied with a nod. “We’re going up..” you mumbled, unsure of yourself. The firefighter who had spoken before nodded and said “should be safe. Have a good night.”

Art quickly pressed the button and the doors slammed shut. Giggles escaped you as the elevator began to move again to which Art nudged you. “What? That was pretty funny, don’t lie,” you responded to his antics. The elevator doors opened and alas, you finally made it to your floor. You held your hand out for him to take in which he obliges, following you out of the elevator like a dog on a leash.

He took the room key out of his pocket and unlocked the door slowly to not wake up Lily. You pushed the door to the master bedroom open and took off your heels, softly setting them down near a bedside table. Art walked in after you and sat on the bed, anxiously waiting for your next move. You left the room and entered the bathroom. You let the water run in the sink for about a minute before splashing your face with the cold water. Making an attempt to dry your face you ended up leaving a huge makeup stain on a towel. Oops.

While you were in the bathroom, you decided to take off your show outfit, leaving you in your bra and panties. Too little? Oh well. You left the bathroom, your clothes in a pile on the corner. Re-entering the bedroom, Art was still getting changed himself. You quickly left to give him some privacy and grabbed your phone from the bathroom sink, where you left it while getting changed. Knocking on the bedroom door softly, Art called back to you, “come in.”

He sat under the covers, his bare shoulders exposed which were covered in scars. Smiling at him, you climbed in next to him, placing your phone onto a bedside table. It lit up as it was placed, the clock read 12:36 P.M. He moved next to you, wrapping his arms around you as you shut your eyes.

9 HOURS LATER

You were awoke by the sound of your phone buzzing against the table, hundreds of notifications flooding your phone. Quickly, your eyes adjusted to the screen, images of you and Art with two fans in a hotel went viral, just like the lady said. Your manager spammed your phone, ‘are you serious? do you know what this could do for your image??? please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.’ You turned over and there Art was, completely sound asleep.

tags: @midwestprincesss @yourcoolguitargf

#daisy writes again #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers x reader #art donaldson x you #challengers x you #art donaldson fic #challengers fic #art donaldson fanfic #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x female reader #challengers x female reader #my fic #this was fun to write #i actually thought it would take longer cuz i had no motivation #but i got it done in like #3 or 4 days #something like that

237 notes · View notes

chlorinecake · 2 days

Text

「 𓍯𓂃 I KISSED HER FOREHEAD AND NOW SHE'S 𝒢IVING ME CRYSTALS ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 」

𝐢𝐞. super Y2K crush scenarios with 𝐍𝑒𝕨 𝐉𝚎𝐚𝕟s

── ✰⋆⁺ 𓊆ྀི . . path to bookshelf ◍ 𓊇ྀི 🔮 虹 . . . 𝔸ᶰĎ 𝒴𝐨𝕌 ?. . .

❖︎ pa𝓲ring .ᐟ 뉴진스 x female!reader

❖ g𝓮nre .ᐟ fluff, comfort, wlw, friends to lovers

❖ 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 count .ᐟ 𝟏,𝟎𝟒𝟏 total ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐈 ── ❝ You smell pretty today... ❞

“You too!” You blurted out, right before realizing you'd gotten your words mixed up, “Wait- I meant to say you look pretty, but... I guess I mean both? Gosh, does that even make sense?”

A tiny smile spread across Minji's features at your adorable timidness, her boot-clad feet taking a few steps towards you before pulling you close, gracing your frame with a tender hug, “It makes perfect sense, weirdo… thanks...”

Her voice was calm and soothing as usual, despite the way it made butterflies swarm in the spot where your heart should be. You couldn't really explain it, but something about Minji's energy always had a way of making you look and feel like a lovesick geek by time you got a proper sentence out—

“So,” she began again, breaking from the embrace and looking you straight in the eye, her hands resting at your shoulders, “when were you gonna tell me about this little crush you have on me?”

Your eyes widened like you had seen a ghost, a nervous chuckle slipping past your lips as she tilted her head at you, just as you muttered a distracting, “Right after I told you which Victoria's Secret fragrance I'm wearing?”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐌 ── ❝ Crystals? As a gesture?... ❞

“Pfft, of course!” Hanni replied matter-of-factly, “just like how you gave me coins for that gum-ball machine we passed earlier… but who's keeping track of all that stuff anyways?”

“You, apparently...,” you said as a gentle laugh escaped your lips at her quirky reply, “but touché, Hanni Pham... what should I do with these?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, cupping your right palm in her own as the colorful stones glittered beneath the mall’s sunroof, “you can put them under your pillow at night!... o-or maybe even stash them in your purse so you can think about me wherever you go!”

“As if I'd need a crystal’s assistant with that,” you teased, ruffling her hair slightly with your free hand. “These are cool, though,” you went on, heart warming at both the feeling of your hand in hers and at the unique gift, “very sweet of you...”

“Eh, I tryyyy,” she replied smugly, right before blowing a tiny pink bubble with the gum she chewed, only to spit the leftover candy into a napkin and ask, “wanna close your eyes and guess what flavor you taste on me?...”

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 ── ❝ I like your sweater… ❞

“Oh, this old thing?” Danielle asked with her warm Australian accent, taking the colorful sweater’s hem in her fingers to examine it's loose threads, “My nana knit this for me like... forever ago...”

“Well it's cool to see she was a step ahead of fashion trends back then,” you smiled, letting your hand brush over the soft yarn of her sleeve... That's when a certain question arose in your head:

“Random, but by chance, are you any good with using chopsticks?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, for sure! I’m basically a pro at it,” she boasted, flipping her curly locks in a cartoonish manner.

“Sweet! I have two coupons for two different places. One for a craft store, and another for a sushi bar… only thing is that they both expire tomorrow,” You went on, hoping that she'd catch your drift without you having to state any specifics...

“Oh? Well it'd be a total bummer to let them go to waste,” she shrugged, hooking her arm in yours before tugging you along with her, “we better get going quick before they run out of sashimi… or yellow yarn…”

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I come in please...? ❞

You heard a gentle voice call from behind your bedroom door, face buried into the largest pillow you could find given the sob-fest you had earlier…

“The door’s unlocked,” you sniffled, turning over on your bed to face her as she peaked from behind the door, her bright smile not even fading at the sight of you.

“I brought some heartwarming treats and DVD’s!” She began, voice just as pleasant as it always was. Haerin made her way to sit beside you on the bed, opening one of your favorite candy bars and handing it to you.

“How’d y’know I was upset?” You asked before taking a bite of the candy, chuckling a bit at the way she watched you so intently while doing so.

“I didn’t,” she went on plainly, “… I already wanted to surprise you today and just got lucky that it ended up being at a time where you needed it most…”

“Awww,” you pouted, dropping the candy bar to pull her into a hug, “you’re literally the best friend I could ask for, Haerin… thank you for coming to see me…”

“Of course,” she whispered, mind lingering on the word friend for a moment, even though she was certain you meant something a little more than that…

“So,” she began again, breaking from the contact and reaching for the TV remote, “Wanna rewatch Mean Girls or Clueless first?”

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I touch your hair? ❞

You asked the question for one reason: You were bored out of your mind from waiting at the bus stop, and playing with Hyein’s hair seemed like a fun way to pass the time…

“Oh, sure!” She chirped, immediately straightening her posture on the park bench as you scooted closer to where she sat, taking her wavy locks into your grasp.

Hyein’s round eyes wandered to the sparkly pink Juicy Couture purse you wore over your shoulder, compelling her to ask, “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh- just some barrette’s and hair clips I got from Claire’s yesterday,” you replied, pausing to click open your purse and show her the different kinds, “Thought you might be interested in some extra bling, so…”

“You know me far too well then, ____,” she smiled, scanning each package with her eyes before suggesting that you decide which hair-clip style she would wear, and vice versa.

You let out a simple “Okay” at her offer, reaching for the pack of silver shooting stars for her hair while she held the pack of butterfly clips beside your face, a satisfied look spreading across her features.

“These are gonna look gorgeous on you,” Hyein smiled, right before opening the pack of butterflies clips and popping a few different colored ones in her palm, “This is too fun already, hehe… I can decorate your hair first, right?…”

ʚ 𝐀𝒰𝐓ᕼ𝕆𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝕆T𝐸: I decided to explore the wlw genre for a change, and I have no one other than @jwanniie to thank for inspiring me to experiment on my platform in such a way through her works... I've always wanted to write for my fav GG's just like how I write for my fav BG's, but simply never found the courage to until now ~ Hopefully you guys enjoyed what I came up with! ɞ

❖ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr -> if GG content isn’t your thing, pls lmk and I’ll refrain from tagging you in such posts moving forward :3

205 notes · View notes

cutielando · 1 day

Text

we can’t be friends, part 2

a/n: the highly requested part 2 of we can’t be friends is finally here!!! again, this is super rushed because i wanted to post it as soon as possible for you guys, so forgive me 🥲

also, part 3? 👀

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando had never before considered himself a “lucky” man. He was always of the belief that things just kind of…happened.

But when he saw you in the paddock on that one particular day, after months of being away from you and only watching you from afar, he thanked his lucky stars.

That was part of the reason why he couldn’t resist coming up to you, introducing himself with only one thought in mind: I need to get her back.

You hadn’t known why the feeling of his hand in yours felt familiar when you shook his hand, why the tone of his voice made tingles arise on your delicate skin, or why his smile and dimple seemed like something you had seen before, seemingly in another life.

Something in your gut was telling you that you had met him sometime before, but you just couldn’t figure out where you knew him from.

Which Lando was grateful for.

He had realized he hadn’t been a good boyfriend to you before, he could see his mistakes and what he should improve now. He knew what he had to do.

After the fateful meeting in the paddock, you started bumping into him more and more.

At the grocery store in Monaco, at the museum where you were strolling with your sister, at the hair salon, at the nail salon, he seemed to be everywhere.

You didn’t think anything about it at first, telling yourself that Monaco was a very small place and coincidences were bound to happen.

But you gradually began to feel like it was not the case, and you settled for confronting him to get to the bottom of the problem.

“You’re following me” you had caught him yet again, seemingly trailing around the flower shop where you usually spend your mornings.

Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing before he settled for shaking his head.

“Bumping into me once or twice is a normal coincidence, but you’re everywhere I go. I turn around and you’re there, like a ghost. Can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re starting to creep me out” you said, making sure to keep your distance from him.

Lando’s heart began hammering in his chest, panic quickly settling in his body.

This was not how it was supposed to go down. You were meant to find it cute, endearing even, but he couldn’t have you thinking that he was a weirdo, not when he was desperately trying to make you fall in love with him once again.

How was he supposed to win you back if you thought he was a total creep?

“I’m not trying to be creepy, I promise. I just didn’t know how to approach you without being awkward” he tried to explain, realizing he sounded even more like a creep.

You cocked an eyebrow. “And you figured following me around was the solution?” you had to admit that seeing him flustered and trying to explain himself was becoming funny to you, any trace of annoyance long gone.

You couldn’t describe the feelings you had whenever you were around Lando. There was a foreign sense of familiarity every time you would talk to him and whenever you would be near him. Like your body was already used to being around him.

“No, no. God, this is so not how I wanted this to go down” he murmured the last part to himself, but you heard him nonetheless.

“Look, as much as I might find this stalking of yours kinda cute in some twisted way, what’s really going on here?” you asked, crossing your arms one on top of the other.

He sighed, hanging his head low. Should he just be honest about why he was following you? Tell you about everything you had done so much just to forget? Should he just lie and truly start from scratch?

There were so many questions clouding his judgment, dozens of ideas and excuses floating around in his brain.

But in the end, he decided that wiping the slate clean was his best bet. You would never agree to go out with him if he even mentioned how your previous relationship had ended, that he had hurt you so much that you chose to completely forget everything about him and your relationship.

He didn’t want to risk a new beginning by plaguing it with events from the past.

“Okay. Truth is, I really like you, and I wanted to ask you out but couldn’t seem to find the words to do it. You’re gorgeous and kind and nice and I didn’t think you would want to go out with me, given what the internet has been saying about me” he confessed, scratching the back of his head in fear of what your reaction would be.

Once upon a time, he could read you like the back of his hand, knowing your every little tic and every tell. He knew every single thing there was to know about you, but as you stood there in front of him, he felt like he didn’t know you.

Even while you smiled at him with that same smile he had come to love over time, you were not the person he had left behind. You were someone else entirely, only the memory of you hiding behind your eyes. But was it wrong that it intrigued him? That it made him want to get to know you again so badly?

Maybe. But he didn’t want to resist it any longer.

Finally looking up at your eyes, his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the smile he loved vibrantly shining on your face, a sense of familiarity filling his chest.

“I don’t care what the internet says about you, I want to get to know the real you. People can have their opinions of you, I want to have my own” you said, stepping closer to him.

Lando felt like he couldn’t breathe. Having you so close to him after so much time apart made him want to lose his composure and just kiss the life out of you, but he couldn’t.

No, he wanted to do it right. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again.

“What are you saying?” he asked, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t misinterpret anything.

“I’m saying that you should give me your number” you said, trying to suppress the smile that was inching towards your lips.

You didn’t know why you were acting like this. Accepting to go on a date with a guy that basically followed you around, asking him for his number? You were never that irresponsible when it came to dating, so why was he so different right now?

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something deep within you which was screaming at you to trust him. There was that sense of comfort that you felt whenever you were around him ever since the two of you bumped into each other, but you didn’t know where it was coming from. How could you feel so at ease with someone you had just met?

It was weird, definitely worrisome if you were being truthful with yourself. But then again, what harm could it do?

Lando had never taken out his phone as fast as he did in that moment, almost dropping it in the process, which made you laugh a little.

Seeing him so flustered made him blush, almost embarrassed that he couldn’t keep his act together.

He gave you the phone in the end, and you put in your number and the name y/n💕, giving him the phone back and leaving, kissing his cheek as you passed by him.

Lando felt like he was dreaming as he felt your lips touch his skin, however briefly the contact had been. And unbeknownst to you, you were biting your lip and blushing as you walked away from him, eagerly waiting to get a text from him.

And thankfully, it was merely an hour later when your phone dinged, and the butterflies started acting up once again.

♡♡♡♡♡

The moment of your first date with Lando had arrived after texting back and forth for a couple of days, and it was safe to say that the both of you were freaking out.

You, on one hand, were freaking out because it felt like you hadn’t been this excited about going on a date in forever. Lando, on the other hand, was freaking out over wanting to make sure he didn’t screw things up the second time around.

The nerves that he felt as he waited in front of your apartment building were nothing like he ever felt before. He hadn’t even been this nervous when you two went out the first time all those years back. But as he stood there, flowers in hand and yet another gift in his pocket, he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

That was until you finally appeared, dressed in his favorite dress of yours, sandals and curly hair, smiling from ear to ear when you saw him waiting for you.

“Sorry I’m late, couldn’t decide what to wear. Have you been waiting long?

Lando’s brain froze for a split second. Had he been waiting there so long that he didn’t even notice you had been late? Taking a quick peek at the watch resting on his left wrist, he realized he had been standing in front of your building for more than 20 minutes.

“Um, no. Just got here like 5 minutes ago” he lied, content when he saw the relieved smile you gave him. “These are for you” he said, holding out the flowers towards you.

You took the bouquet from him, blushing once you noticed that he had bought you your favorite flowers.

“How did you know these are my favorites?” you asked, bringing the flowers up to your nose and inhaling the sweet aroma.

He shrugged, and left it at that. He couldn’t really tell you how he knew they were your favorite, so he figured he shouldn’t say anything else.

The night went by beautifully, the conversation flowing as if you had known each other your whole lives. The laughter you shared was natural, you felt so at ease while talking to him.

As the end of the night grew closer, you were walking hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Monaco, a comfortable silence between the two of you. You had never felt at ease with anyone else in your entire life, yet here you were, feeling more at home with Lando than any other person in your life besides your family.

“Thank you for tonight” you said, smiling sadly once you arrived in front of your building.

Lando smiled, stepping closer to you.

“It was my pleasure” he whispered, the distance between the two of you almost non-existent.

He looked you in the eyes as if he was asking for permission, and the second you nodded he leaned in and kissed you with everything that he had, making your knees go weak and almost buckle.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and started playing with the hair at the back of his head, almost accidentally letting out a moan at how good his lips felt on yours. Every inch of your body was on fire, your senses tingling as you got lost in the feeling of Lando.

Lando, on the other hand, felt a mixture of emotions. Even though he had been waiting for this moment for so many months, he felt guilty. There he was, using the fact that you had no memory of your past relationship to win you back. Was he being selfish?

Should he tell you the truth about the past?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

193 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 1 day

Text

Here's Hoping Things Look Better On the Other Side Chapter 1: The Cowboy Rating: E (minors please do not interact) Words: 6k Tags: Ghost x f!reader/OC, fingering, unprotected piv sex, oral (m and f receiving), deep throating, soft sex, face riding, dangerous driving practices, one night stands, first meeting, dom!Ghost, flirting Summary: You decide to spend you last night of freedom before saddling yourself with farm work, saddling up on something else. You know what they say: Save a horse, ride a cowboy. a/n: happy 1 year anniversary to this blog, as a mark of this occasion I'm doing what I kept talking about but never had the courage for and posting the "official" Cowboy Ghost story, or at least the first chapter. If some of this looks familiar, it's because a lot of my initial posts in the au were straight from this draft

Thank you @ethereal-night-fairy for giving this a once over, you're the best ❤️

There’s plenty about small towns that you miss living in the big city. The lack of bars is not one of those things. At least your friends don’t seem to be complaining. Anything to take the edge off the hours you’d spent in the car. One of the girls laughs pushing at another’s arm, the table is littered with empty shot glasses and half drunk beers. You glance back at the room over your shoulder, eyes darting to find a tray you could pile some of this on to make the bartender’s life easier. It’s dimly lit, as all dives are, and may as well have a sign hung up boasting about how flammable it is with all the wood in here. Wood tables and chairs, wood bar, wood floor, wood walls, you wouldn’t be surprised if the mirror over the back of the bar was wood too.

Still, you’re happy to be home. You miss small town living, miss the farm. You’ve been an accountant long enough, lost the calluses on your hands and you’re ready to dive back in. You’ll have to report to your daddy’s ranch earlier than the sun once morning rears its ugly head. You may as well have some fun, enjoy your last night of freedom before breaking your back breaking horses. And lucky you it’s the start of planting season, plenty of fresh blood in the water.

It’s good timing really. You know everyone in town too well, and the last thing you need is for word to get back to your daddy that you slept with the McKennan boy or worse. No, seasonal help is the best choice for a one night stand. No one you know that knows you(or your father). You glance around the bar, plenty of faces you don’t recognize. No one interesting though. No one that seems like they’d give you anything good. Mackayla already has a hat fixed square on her head, a cowboy coo-ing at her like she’s the luckiest girl in the bar.

Your eyes hit the man hunched against the bar. An unfamiliar face, a dark black hat, and denim stretched tight over his thick thighs. He’s got a good build, broad shoulders, thick fingers that dwarf the long neck in his hand, biceps you could sink your teeth into… You can’t see his face, but there’s an air about him that screams “leave me alone”. That plus the way he keeps to himself says he doesn’t know anyone or care to. Perfect. You toss the last of your bourbon back and toss a few bucks on the table.

“I’m gonna snag a cowboy,” You tell your friends, “Don’t wait up.”

You earn a few thumbs ups, a whistle and a “get it” that makes you laugh, before turning to snag the spot next to your man in black at the bar. You lean against the bar to catch his eye, standing close as you push your chest out, and tip your head. They’re brown, you think, warm like liquor and kept steadfastly forward. Must be having a staring contest with his own reflection. There’s a mask too. A black swath of fabric with a jaw bone painted onto it covering half his face. That explains why you couldn’t get a good look at him across the bar.

“So-” You start, only to be cut off.

Your cowboy holds up a twenty neatly folded between his fingers without even looking at you, "How much is it gonna cost to get you to leave me alone?" He asks, the bass rumble of his voice making you all the more sure of your decision. You glance from the skeletal mask to the black Stetson tipped low over his eyes.

"The hat."

"Not for sale."

“Not even just for tonight?” You ask, feeling buzzed and bold as you lean against the bar. There’s the slightest turn of his head as he looks at you. The warm brown of his eye as it peaks from under the shadow of his brim hits you better than any shot could. His gaze drags over you, and you let it, feeling his eyes settle on the way you push your tits out, then trace down over your hip. Your skin prickles with warmth, your stomach fluttering excitedly. He drags those lovely brown eyes back to meet yours and hums, looking back at the mirror.

“How about a drink,” He says, motioning for the bartender.

“How about two,” You grin, his mask shifts, his eyes crinkling a little at the edges, “What are you drinking?”

“Piss,” He says, pushing his mask up enough to get a swallow of his beer. He’s funny in a dry sort of way, you’d laugh if you weren’t so entranced by his lips against the bottle. You rip your eyes off him when he pulls the mask back into place. You gotta get this man a decent drink. You press up onto your toes to lean across the bar and talk to the bartender.

“Are the Sisters still making hooch?” You ask, the tender nods and grabs two shot glasses for you. You settle back on your feet, feeling the pleasant weight of your companion’s gaze dragging over you. You wait as the glasses are filled with 2oz of the only thing you missed on the coast. Well, maybe not the only thing. A glass of crystal moonshine is set in front of each of you. Your cowboy’s fingers pinch around the sides of the shot, his hand dwarfing the glass as his other hand tugs at his mask. You both tap your shots to the bar before throwing them back. You shake your head at the burn as he lets out a cough.

“Oh that is dead,” He says, lord his voice is so thick when it’s pleased. Rumbling nicely in his throat, you’re desperate to see what it tastes like.

“So,” You draw his eyes back to your face with just one word, “What’s a Manchester boy doing in this shithole?”

He lets out a breath through his teeth, flicking the brim of his hat back to get a better look at you. His eyes make you warm all over in a way that alcohol never could. “Manchester, huh-” He motions for another shot, “You even know where that is, Princess?”

Oh the way he says it, so deep and condescending, but inquisitive, makes a shiver run down your spine. You’d do anything to hear him call you that again. Including answering his question with the minimum amount of sass.

“North of Birmingham, west of Sheffield. Do you need my footie team too before you to take me home?” You smile, tapping your refilled shot against his before downing it. His fingers hesitate on his glass as he looks at you, eyes following your tongue as you lick the last drop of moonshine off your lips.

He reaches up and takes off his hat, settling it on your head. It’s big and warm, and sits just a little too low on you, but you don’t care, it’s his. His claim on you. He takes his shot clean, pulling his mask back up as he tosses far too much cash on the bar and grabs your hand.

You barely get to his truck before you’re pressed against it, his hands gripping your face as he presses his lips to yours. Too eager to remember he’s gotta pull his mask off first apparently. It’s warm and cotton-y. Not that you mind. You laugh, feeling bubbly from the moonshine, as he growls and rips his mask off before kissing you again.

And oh, he’s good with his mouth. You can tell by the slide of his lips, the way he holds your face just the way he wants to. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you open eagerly for him, letting him taste the cheap sugary booze you’d been sipping before you saw him. He licks into your mouth, skimming your teeth before twisting his tongue against yours in a way that makes you shiver. His mouth is warm and wet, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. You want to hear that sound for the rest of your life. He tips your head back and back, his hat held to your head by the closed cab door as he crowds you against his truck forcing you to take everything he gives you.

Your chest is warm and you can feel your blood pumping want through to your fingertips as you twist them into his shirt. You want to be drunk on him, want to feel your head spin as your thoughts turn to cotton. You think this is the best decision you’ve ever made. Especially when his hands leave your face to grab your hips, his leg wedged between yours. He drags your hips to grind against his thigh, all hard muscle and oh you can feel him. The hard line of his cock just at the apex of your movements. It makes all your heat drop to pool between your legs. Mm, he was absolutely a good decision.

“What am I screaming for you?” You murmur, between kisses, desperate to know your cowboy’s name.

“Simon,” He tells you, ducking to mouth at your neck. “Simon,” he says it again, bites it into your skin, like he’s reminding himself.

“Simon,” you sigh, enjoying the way saying his name makes his hold on you tighten.

He works your hips against his thigh, his lips sucking at your neck before his teeth dig into the blooming bruises. There’s something animal and desperate in his movements, something that speaks to a man who hasn’t had a woman in a long time. Good. You want all that pent up stress, all the need, that he can muster. You make a soft noise at the twitch of your hips, the tingle of need in your own body starting to soak your panties. It’s only when you start to feel that same wetness soaking the denim scraping your thighs that Simon pulls away.

“You drive stick?” He asks, the warmth of his iris consumed by dark black. You tip your head, pull him back to brush his lips against yours. You want him to keep kissing you, his lips just on the right side of chapped and his tongue exploratory. You hold onto his face until he grabs your wrists and pulls you off. “Manual, Princess. Want you in my bed before I fuck ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You murmur, eyes fixed on his mouth, “I can drive stick.”

Simon pulls you away from where you’ve been plastered against the truck cab and opens the door. You squeak when he picks you up and sets you on the seat. Your eyes dart to the wet patch on his jeans, then to check out his ass when he leans down to grab his mask off the gravel. Damn.

You pull your door closed as Simon pulls himself into the driver's side of the cab, turning the ignition and switching gears. You always liked the click of the gear shift, but now the engine thrums in your blood, a heady promise of what’s to come. Simon grabs your hand from where it’s settled on your thigh to hold it under his on the gear shift. He shifts up a gear, then drops his hand to your thigh. His hand is big and warm, a bear’s paw gripping your leg, digging his fingers into your skin. You’re glad Amanda convinced you to wear a skirt.

“You shift when I tell you, alrigh’?” Simon asks, one hand sliding under the edge of your skirt as the other turns the wheel to leave the bar's parking lot. You nod quickly, your fingers tight on the stick shift as his skate across the edge of your panties. One thick finger tip drags along your sopping slit, feeling you through your underwear. He gives you the next gear and you pull the shift with a shaky hand, rushing to accommodate him, to show how well you follow directions(to not get the both of you killed if the engine stalls). His fingers don’t move, giving you space as you shift in your seat.

It’s different when you lean back against the seat again. His fingers press against you properly, teasing you through your panties with his thumb against your clit. The feeling of cotton against the sensitive bud, wet and cool from the night air, makes you whine, and push your hips towards his touch. Simon chuckles from the driver’s seat and you feel a wave of heat rush over you.

“Spread your legs love,” He orders, you’re quick to comply, going a step further to shuck your panties so he can touch you properly. After all, you’ve never been one to disregard an order that directly benefits you. Simon’s fingers touch you, spread your sticky slick folds with a pleased noise. He’s got calluses, you can feel the rough edges of them as he drags his fingers over you, and you follow the motion with a slight raise of your hips. “Eager thing, aren’t you?” Simon rumbles, you glance at him, at his lap. As if he’s one to talk.

His cock must be aching from pressing against his zipper like that. He says something you don’t hear, too busy trying to measure his bulge with your eyes. He smacks his fingers against your slit and you jerk your attention back to him. Shift down. Shift down, you can do that. You know how to do that.

Your clit tingles when his fingers find it, still aching from the smack and desperate for attention. Simon rolls it between his fingers, pinching it enough to be felt before rubbing at it. Then he’s up and down your slit, spreading your slick as it drools from your pussy, lubing his fingers to keep toying with you. You try to keep your mind on his words, try to keep your brain from giving in to the feeling of it. He doesn’t stop rubbing just because you need to shift gears, and it drives you mad.

One thick fingers pushes into your cunt and you whine. Your toes curl as you try to force yourself down against the shallow thrusts he pumps in and out of you. The drag of his callused finger against your walls warms in the pit of your stomach. It’s more than your finger’s ever been but it’s still not enough. You want to feel the stretch of him, you’re sure you’ll need it. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit, your hips following the feeling. He pulls away just enough to add a second finger and you moan.

The stretch is divine. Friction heat tugging at your entrance, pushing warmth through you with every pump. You do your best to fuck yourself on your cowboy’s fingers as the slick noise fills the cab of the truck. Your breathing is heavy, your whines turned to whimpers. He gives you just enough to make you eager for more. His fingers are slow and dutiful as they thrust into you, keeping you alert for his next command.

You try to reach for his cock, your fingers digging at his belt buckle. Only to have his fingers leave you, his firm hand wrapping around your wrist to put it back on the gear shift.

“Gotta be patient, Princess,” He tells you, “you want somethin’ you ask for it.”

Your fingers tighten, and you spread your legs a little wider. “Make me come,” You tell him, because you don’t think he can do it at this angle, with his eyes on the road.

“Good girl.” The praise shoots through you like lightening, your nerves on fire when his fingers push back into you. Slow and steady is gone, replaced by a pace that makes your head spin. Simon’s fingers curl, hitting the soft spongy spot near your entrance until you’re seeing stars. There’s a tightness in your belly, and a heat that washes over your cunt. He keeps his attention on your hole, your tingling clit ignored in favor of punishing your cunt for your attitude.

He doesn’t let up when he asks you to down shift. Your brain mush, your hips squirming as your muscles try to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing. You barely manage to get down to the next gear before you’re consumed by the raging heat and tightness his fingers fuck into you. Your whimpers are full blown moans, his name on your lips as you attempt to find the brain cells to beg for him to let you come. It’s all too much, too tight. You can hear the wet squelch of his fingers louder than the blood rushing in your ears, louder than the rumble of the engine.

You feel wet, something dribbling over your cunt, as your head tips back to account for your eyes rolling. Your back arches and all your muscles shudder as Simon’s fingers work you through the slip-splash of wetness. He only slows enough for you to get your bearings. Just enough for you to take in the wetness on the dashboard and soaking the fingers he raises to your mouth. Another downshift, your eyes fixed on him more than the scenery, your tongue swirling around his fingers.

Simon’s fingers leave your mouth to settle over your hand on the gear shift as you hit a gravel road. It’s so dark out, you could be anywhere, but Simon promised you a bed, and you don’t think a murderer would make you come before killing you. The truck is thrown into park, the engine switched off, your brain catches up just in time for Simon to open your door and pull you out. You’re tugged into a little house, and almost as quickly as the door is closed behind you, you’re set on your knees.

It’s dark in here too, but you can hear the rustle of denim, the groan of a man freeing his hard cock. You know your eyes will adjust, you’re already starting to make out the shadows of moonlight streaming in through the window, but you’re dying to see the monster you’d seen straining against his jeans. Simon’s hand finds your cheek, cupping your jaw as his thumb brushes your lower lip.

“Open your mouth love,” He murmurs, “Lemme feel your tongue.”

You follow his command too eagerly. His shadow leans over you, huge in the darkness, and his tongue drags against yours before he pulls back and spits on it. Your breath stops short, your stomach flipping as it starts to kindle a new heat. Simon’s cock slaps against your tongue. It feels heavy, uncut, the skin soft and salty. He drags it over your tongue, barely dipping into your waiting mouth, lubing himself on his own spit. Your head goes a little fuzzy at the thought. Your cheeks burn with humiliation, your cunt aching between your legs. As if he didn’t just get you off all over his truck.

It’s worth a little embarrassment for the way Simon groans at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. He’s heavy on your tongue, weight against your jaw as he feeds you his cock. Inch by inch, so slow you can drag your tongue over the veins that thrum under his skin. Just the taste of him makes you want to buck your hips, and you reach to settle your hands on his thighs when he hits your gag reflex.

He stills, your fingers digging into muscle and coarse hair. You take steadying breaths through your nose before pushing your head down again. Something bright and ringing like a bell in your head is desperate to know where he stops, to feel him stretching out your throat. You have to swallow, shake your head to find the spot that doesn’t make you gag, not that Simon seems to mind. You think he likes when you pull back, gasping, so you can spit on his fat length and try again. Sucking and bobbing your head as you take him deeper and deeper is the least you can do for this man. That doesn’t mean you don’t feel a swell of pride when your nose finally buries itself in the curls at the base of his cock.

Simon’s hand comes around to cup the back of your head, holding you there. You glance up at him, his eyes shining in the low light. “Good fucking girl,” He growls out, “Just made to take my cock aren’t ya?”

You hum around his length, roll your tongue against him as best you can. His fingers grip your hair and pull you back, your spit slicking his length even with just moonlight setting the room aglow. Simon holds you at the tip, letting you circle it with your tongue, sucking and swallowing down the pre-come that drools from him. Simon’s hips buck, a soft swear dropping from his lips as you take the unexpected inch. His hand leaves the back of your head, fixing his hat where it’s started to tip off you and gripping the sides of your head. You lean back to look up at him, blinking the static of dark vision from your eyes.

“Gonna fuck this pretty face,” Simon tells you, his voice rough, like his vocal cords have been dragged through gravel. Despite the lack of tone, you know it’s a question, one you give a short nod to.

The first thrust of his hips is gentle, testing. You breathe through your nose, let him get acquainted with your gag reflex as you get used to the in and out feeling. Simon holds your head still, inching his cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. You hold your tongue flat against the underside of his heavy length, feeling the pulse of blood, the twitch of muscle as he works himself faster and deeper.

Your throat constricts and Simon pauses, before his hands yank you sharply, bypassing your gag and nestling you at the base of his cock. Your eyes water, your nose starting to run as your throat works around the intrusion. He stretches your throat around his thick cock, you can feel the press of him, uncomfortable but dripping warmth down your spine. Simon pulls you off, and you gasp, suck in a breath as you watch spit string between your lips and his cock. You get one good breath in before he’s fucking your face in earnest.

You whine around the fat cock testing the ache in your jaw as Simon’s hips snap against your lips. His balls slap against your chin, heavy and already pulling tight. You do your best to keep your mouth open, lips sucking at him as he moves. There’s an ache between your legs, a voice in the back of your mind that wishes it was your pussy getting this treatment. You can only imagine how deeply he’d hit you, the stretch of your lips around his cock making you prickle with ideas of the way he’d split your cunt open.

Simon pulls back with a low groan, and come hits your tongue before he’s pushing back in. You blink the tears from your eyes, swallowing as best you can as he comes down your throat. It’s a lot, enough that your hands leave his thighs to cup under your chin, waiting to catch the drool and spend that you’re sure is dripping from between your lips. Warm and bitter, you wonder what he’s been eating since he came to town, if he needs someone to put vegetables on his plate. He pulls his cock out of your mouth and you tip your head back, swallowing the hot come still on your tongue. You open your mouth, tongue out to let him see that you’re empty.

Simon is silent. Something in his shining eyes seems to mirror yours. His thumb strokes over your tongue, with a hum that makes you think he’s got something on his mind. It feels almost sweet, almost affectionate, as his fingers stroke over your jaw. He crouches in front of you, and his hands leave you, only to reappear on your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder as he stands with nothing more than a grunt. His shoulder is broad and warm under your stomach, you drag your hands up the corded muscles of his back and feel a pulse of attraction thrum through the heat simmering in your stomach. Fuck, he’s strong.

You’re tossed onto what must be his bed. You bounce on the mattress and attempt to get your bearings in the low light. Simon’s hat tumbles off your head, and you glance about in the darkness for it. The lamp next to the bed clicks on and you flinch at the sudden rush of light. The wash of warm light is too much after so long in the dark, but you’re faster adjusting to this than the darkness. Simon settles a hand on your thigh, pulling you close as he settles on the bed beside you.

“On me love,” He murmurs and you drag your eyes to his face, “wanna see when you ride my face.”

Oh. He isn’t wearing his mask. His eyes are desperate, brows drawn low to shadow the watery browns that stare at you. His nose looks like it’s been broken one too many times, and there’s a scar running across his lips that tugs a little too much of his teeth into such a pretty picture. There’s something soft to him though, something aching in the length of his jaw that makes you want to hold him close. You must hesitate, must take too long looking at him.

“Tongue still works,” He teases you, the pink muscle dragging over the split in his lip, his teeth.

“You’re awfully pretty to be wearing a mask,” You smile, moving to settle your knees on either side of his ears. (Big enough ears you think he must’ve had to grow into them) Simon hums, his hands coming to grip your thighs and pull you down against his mouth. You can see pink starting to creep over his cheeks even as his tongue drags along your slit. The thought that Simon must not take compliments easily is erased from your mind as his lips close around your clit and suck hard.

The electric feeling jerks through your body. So much time on your knees worshiping a cock that should have been splitting you open left you buzzing and now you’re getting some well deserved relief. Simon’s tongue is hot as it splits your folds, wiggling to lap at the slick you’d been drooling before rolling against your clit. Each touch to the sensitive bud sends another zap of pleasure ripping up your spine. You whimper, your chest heaving with breaths you hardly have the chance to take with the way he sucks at you. One of Simon’s hands leaves you, fishing around on the bed beside you. You frown down at him, pout really, until you feel his hat settle on your head again.

“Gotta keep your- your claim on me?” You ask, though you don’t think your tone is quite right. Simon hums under you, a groan of assent. He tips his head, dragging long strokes of his tongue over your slit. You’re too worked up already, his mouth feels like a furnace, his tongue touches you like a brand. Your hips move on their own, following the course of Simon’s tongue, your clit bumping against his nose as you grind yourself against his mouth. Your fingers hold your skirt up out of the way, you may as well be planning to shred the thing with how tightly your fingers dig into the fabric.

Simon stares up at you, his eyes closing with a satisfied groan as you grind a little more firmly against his tongue. Having his attention on you like this makes your stomach clench. You can feel his smile, feel his teeth just graze over your clit, teasing before he’s sucking at it. You squeeze his head between your thighs, half formed praises on your tongue as you feel your muscles start to tremble from the strain of your tightening orgasm.

The longer he licks you the less you can hear your own thoughts, too consumed by the satisfied groans and slurping sounds between your legs. Simon eats you like a starving man getting his first meal. His hands move to grab your ass, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers, and spreading you open just to feel you. Your slick is smeared over his mouth, smeared over your thighs where his stubble has dragged it across your skin. You feel wet and warm, your cunt tingling on the edge of your second orgasm of the night. His tongue wiggles its way into your hole and you break.

“Fuck me.” You whine, your words almost sobs as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if it’s a demand or simply a needy expletive. It doesn’t stop Simon from sucking your clit hard, his tongue swirling around the bud until your back arches and the tension in your stomach bleeds out in a rush of shivers and moans. Your pleasure coursing through you as Simon licks and sucks at your cunt until you’re jerking at the new sensitivity.

Simon holds your hips, drags you down to sit on his stomach, the firm muscle flexing as your legs are forced further apart by the sheer width of the man. He drags your sensitive pussy against his stomach, letting the blond hair tickle your clit. You pout, settle your hands on his chest to hold yourself steady with even when your muscles still shiver with every twitch of your hips.

His fingers grip the bottom of your shirt when you demonstrate you can grind by yourself. Simon tugs it up over your head and you happily assist in undressing. He’s quicker with your bra, unhooking the clasp before you can shrug the straps off. Simons big hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. The touch is firm, appreciative, he squeezes the soft skin and you whine.

“Lemme ‘ear it again, Princess.” Simon rumbles. You can feel his voice low in his chest. His hands drop back to your hips to guide you. You don’t need to think to know what he’s asking.

“Fuck me Simon,” You breath, leaning to kiss him. You pull your tongue over his lips, tip your head to clean your come off his face. His mouth opens to catch your tongue, pushing his own to meet yours as you dip it between his lips. His hands raise your hips, angling you to notch his cockhead against your entrance.

You know this part, know the press of your hips down onto him, the breathless anticipation as he slowly stretches you. You must have forgotten how big he was on your tongue. You drop your head to rest your forehead against Simon’s cheek, the stretch of just his head making your eyes start to roll. His fingers stroke down your back, a comfort as you ease yourself down his length. Your every breath feels like it’s softened by a moan. The stretch of him burning against your entrance, his cock dragging against your gummy walls. You feel so tight around him you can feel the curve of his dick, the veins that line it, the ridge of his thick head.

Your legs still shake from your orgasm. If it weren’t for Simon’s hands holding you, you would’ve sunk down to the base of his cock just from the inability to hold yourself up. You attempt to push yourself up from the way you’ve cuddled close to your cowboy, and he holds you tight. The hand which had been petting down your back presses firm between your shoulders, his other arm wrapping over your him. You wonder- and then he thrusts the rest of his fat length into you and you don’t wonder anything else.

You all but collapse on his chest, his arm tight on the small of your back, arches your hips up as you bury your face against his neck. You can feel the mattress dip where he plants his feet before you feel the drag of his cock out of you, and the sweet friction of it sliding back home inside you. You dig your teeth into Simon’s shoulder, the scarred skin dipping under your bite as he fucks up into you.

Each stroke of his cock is like a punch in your stomach. The stretch of your cunt around him, his cockhead hitting your sweet spot every time it nudges your entrance, only adds to the devastating length of him. Your eyes roll, your voice tight when you have the air to let it escape you. He hits something inside you that almost hurts with how good it feels, the electricity of it shivering up your spine and tightening your muscles. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to push your hips back into the feeling.

“Tha’s it, sweet’eart,” Simon murmurs in your ears, “Jus’ like that.”

You whine at the praise, at the groan that follows it. He keeps you held so tightly against him, your nipples dragging against his firm chest with each thrust. You try to kiss at his neck, lips parting to pant with each pull of his cock. He fills you so full and deep you can hardly think. You’ve never had anyone hold you like this, never had anyone fuck you with the same sort of intense desperation. Simon’s lips press to your temple, his hips snapping to meet your weak thrusts with the wet squelching sounds of pleasure following.

Trying to draw a full breath is too much, you moan and squeak against Simon’s skin. Your lips travel over the scarred flesh, your teeth desperate to mark, to hold onto something as your fingers curl against his firm chest. There’s nothing for you to do but hold on and let this man take his pleasure from your body. Your hips stutter, the pleasure hitting you too tightly to keep your muscles moving. The tension in your muscles doesn’t stop Simon’s movements. His groans turn to growls, his lips moving with silent praise as he pistons into your clenching cunt.

The drag of his skin against your soft walls, the burn of friction, coupled with the deep punch of his cock drives you to the edge and holds you there. Every twitch and movement making sparks of pleasure light up your skin. Your muscles shake with the burn of contraction, the ache of being split open. Your cunt burns with desperate heat, and you snake one of your hands down to rub tight circles over your clit. It doesn’t take much for you to fall apart. Your cunt flutters, sucking at Simon’s cock as the attention to your clit shoots up your spine and melts over your muscles. You fall apart, and just as sincerely you fall against Simon’s chest, panting and whimpering his name on every stroke.

He fills you fast, his cock stilled inside your cunt as you feel it twitch. Heat fills you, burns you, marks you from the inside. Simon moans low in the back of his throat. He gives a few short thrusts, enjoying the clutch of your pussy, as you settle into the floating feeling of satisfaction. He pulls out and you feel his come drip out of your hole, sliding through your folds to pool against his softening cock.

"What is your favorite footie team?" Simon asks once he's found his breath. You yawn, wiggling to cuddle against him.

"Reds," You murmur, and hear him snort out a short laugh.

"Liverpool?"

"Can't all be Man U fans," You sigh, and Ghost thinks your voice must be like honey the way it sticks to his mind, "Someone's gotta win games."

Ghost bites down his smile, feeling the way you unspool against him. Your body going lax and your breathing evening out. Do you trust him so readily that you'd fall asleep like this? You barely know him, hell he doesn't even know your name, but here you are.

“Gonna keep you,” He tells you, it feels like speaking sin into the world, tainting this perfect thing that's fallen into his lap, but he's too greedy to care, “Not le’in’ you go, can’t.”

You don’t answer him with anything more than a half asleep hum. Your lashes flutter against his skin, your face pressed against his neck. Wrapped around him with all the comfort he could ask for. Ghost swallows, turns his head to press his lips to your temple, breathing in the scent of your shampoo and the sweat of sex. Such a pretty thing to fall into his arms so willingly. You compliment him too well, know what he wants before he asks for it. He’d be a fool to let you go. No, he’s keeping you, you’re the sort of girl men chase after with wedding rings, and he can already hear the bells ringing for him.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x oc #oc: goose #cowboy au #cowboy!ghost #cowgirl!reader #f!reader #minors do not interact

199 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 2 days

Text

Part 5

(Told y'all I was back!!!)

Content: Established BDSM Dynamics, Attempted Intimidation, Threats, Mild Violence and Injury

You suspect Konig gets off on watching you interact with others.

He’s an insecure man, there’s no doubt about that. He gets twitchy about other men interacting with you beyond brief, bland exchanges. A sleepy cashier at the grocery store? That’s fine. The waiter complimenting your choice of meal for some reason? Konig’s eyeing the steak knife.

That said, something about the way you are in a public setting has him constantly shifting. Practically squirming. And it’s not just social anxiety.

You smile at the employee that showed you where the towels are and Konig adjusts himself as soon as their back is turned. You politely brush off a mistake in your food order, his pupils spread like an oil spill.

You ask him about it one night, ever curious about this strange, obsessive creature clinging like remora.

“You are… very nice to people,” he explains slowly.

The two of you are doing a puzzle. You watch his big, calloused fingers fidget with a border piece. He’s forgotten to hand it to you while thinking, but you’re not in any rush.

“You are good at being… normal. No one knows that you are a killer. They can’t tell.”

You snort softly. “I am normal.”

He shoots you a skeptical look and you laugh. (Don’t miss how he flusters either.)

“Am I that different here than out there?” you wonder.

“Yes.”

You hum. Have never really considered that, but it makes sense. In privacy, you have nothing to react to. No faces to make or scripts to follow. You have Konig now but he’s different, there was never a reason to treat him like everyone else.

“So what about it arouses you?” you finally ask.

“That they don’t know.”

You don’t understand. You hardly ever do. You’re extra nice to the poor teenager that prepares your coffee next time you two go out. (You make Konig edge himself on the drive back home, then overstimulate him to near unconsciousness on the dining table.)

It’s not surprising, then, when he shyly asks if you’ll come meet some of his KorTac teammates.

He asks with his face smooshed between your thighs, nose crushed against your pubic mound. Just getting started, the taste of you already clouding his thoughts. The toe of your boot is nestled beneath his heavy balls; his voice pitches up proportional to the bend of your ankle.

“Why?” you ask, flat and emotionless. It makes him drool when you bleach the inflection from your voice, stripping it down to phonetics and fricatives. A drop of saliva trickles down your thigh. You twist your fingers in his hair, making him lick it up. (“Keep it tidy,” you’d told him. So far he’s barely managing, but he gets off on the struggle to please you.)

He mumbles something you can’t make out, so you force his head up and watch him blink. His swallows thickly, chin already glistening with slick, pink tongue lolling out across swollen lips.

“Again,” you command. Calm, even.

“I w-want them to meet you… if they can tell…”

You tilt your head. “If they can tell I’m a murderer?”

He whimpers, teeth sinking into his lip hard. You hitch your boot up, watch the tears collect in the corners of his eyes. Precum drip, drip, drips down his stomach from the vivid, weeping head of his straining cock.

“Is that all? You want me to meet your little friends with blood on my hands?” you coo.

He tries to nod, but your grip is far too tight. You click your tongue off the roof of your mouth. His hips jerk with the derisive sound.

“Or is it that you want to show off your owner?” you wonder. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. You huff in amusement as the pieces click into place.

“I see now.”

You cram his flushed face between your thighs again, grinding your pussy on the flat tongue he instantly presents.

“You want me to be a pretty, sweet thing. You want to show me off in some frilly sundress and play helpless civilian. I’ll shake their hands and they won’t know I’ve ripped a man’s guts out. I’ll smile pretending I haven’t bit someone’s finger off.”

He’s whining high and needy, rocking himself on the laces of your boots. You continue, rambling in a way you never do outside these moments.

“And you want me to do all that with my collar around your throat.” You press his face in tighter and close your thighs. “Maybe I should stab someone, huh? I’m sure I can find someone worth the effort.”

You feel the hot pinpricks of tears on your skin, his voice uncontrolled and breaking with desperation. He’s now arching his hips away and you know it’s because he’s trying not to cum. It’s a new rule you just recently established - that if he’s allowed access to your cunt, he gives it his full attention. Treats it like the rare and fleeting privilege it is.

All that just from your little tease.

The image is an intriguing one. You’ve never taken any pleasure from hiding your actions from others. But there is something almost… quaint, you suppose, about meeting men who kill for a living as a killer yourself. They’ll look at you and see Konig’s quiet civilian girlfriend. This will be a secret just for you and Konig. You’ve never had someone else know while you play a part.

An unexpected wave of pleasure knocks the breath out of you. You didn’t expect to find the prospect so…

“Fuck,” you whisper, blinking through stars. “I’ll meet your friends if you make me cum in the next thirty seconds.”

It takes him thirty-two, but considering the intensity of it, you decide to be generous.

You show up to base in a floral-print dress and pretty sandals. The key to Konig’s collar shines in the hollow of your throat on a dainty chain, prominently displayed. (His eyes keep skipping down to it. You pinch his thigh when he nearly misses a red light, chastising to be more careful. That only results in a plump outline down the thigh of his pants. Your mistake.) Hair done, a bit of makeup, you make for a nice character.

The head of Konig’s squad meets you first. Declan O’Conor, a shorter man who introduces himself with a wide smile, a rough Irish accent, and - most favorably - no appreciative glances at your body. Off to a surprisingly commendable start. You smile back and let Konig introduce you, eyes roaming the private KorTac compound.

Sleek black vehicles, modern-looking buildings. Distant pods of joggers on what looks like a training field. Even more distant sounds of guns. Passing personnel. Some of the men doing double takes, a couple of nudge-nudges. There’s not much of interest to you.

Declan shoos the two of you off after some pleasantries and an idea of where to find other members of Konig’s main squad.

You meet Aksel, Roze, Horangi, and Stiletto playing cards in one of the rec rooms. Roze teases Konig about finally bringing you ‘round. Aksel takes the initiative to stand to greet you - unnecessary, but not offensive. While his back is turned, Horangi peeks at his cards. You make eye contact with Stiletto when she notices as well and twitch your lips in a tiny, knowing smirk. Neither of you say a word.

Only two of them (Horangi and Roze) are on Konig’s usual team, but he’s worked with the other two before. You’re more interested in watching Konig interact with them. Like you, he tends to let others lead conversation in public - though the reasoning is different. At home, though, he usually initiates and you enjoy letting him talk and talk, only chiming in when asked for your opinion or reaction (or lack thereof).

Though you’re not left completely unincluded - the other KorTac members ask polite surface questions that you respond to automatically. It’s all habit, a performance you’ve given a thousand times, a veteran actor. You’ve perfected volume, pitch, inflection, spaces, down to the shape of your mouth as you speak. Your face is easier. People are good at expressions - too good. You hardly have to do anything to express easy-calm-friendly. Relaxed brows, a slight curve at the corners of your mouth, loose jaw. There: Konig’s normal, if shy, girlfriend.

When the two of you leave the rec room, Konig pulls you down a little side hallway and kisses desperately along your jaw.

“You are so good…” he mumbles breathlessly, “...so good at pretending.”

You snort, bemused. “Is that what it is?”

This is just being a person, out in the world. No one is their true selves around strangers, you thought. Is it so different when it’s you doing it?

He groans softly into your throat, mouthing at your necklace. “This will be harder than I thought.”

“We’re not fucking here,” you say.

“Yes, miss.”

You let him hide there for a moment longer, then usher him along to the next thing. He does manage to give you a decent tour of the facilities, telling you stories and explaining how KorTac does things.

You meet Hutch along the way, just a brief greeting in one of the halls. Again, not a usual member of Konig’s team but they’ve worked together before and Konig is full of pride and enthusiasm to show you off. (Maybe you’d be annoyed if his presentation was more “look what I bagged” rather than “look at who found me worthy”.)

It’s as he’s showing you one of the briefing rooms that you meet Krueger.

And you know, instantly. From the slow, exaggerated twice-over, to the obvious way he shifts his lower half, eyes lidded. You feel the mask of the day slip.

“Is this the tail you’ve been chasing instead of your own, Bruder?” he asks, sauntering closer. He could say it in German - but he wanted you to hear it.

You blink once, slow.

Konig, at your side, hisses an embarrassed correction. Even with that ridiculous hood on, you know his face must be burning. You take a single, small step forward, meeting Krueger as he sidles up too close to be appropriate. You introduce yourself without offering a hand.

“Do you know what it is we do here, little girl?” he taunts. “What your boyfriend does?”

“Yes,” you answer.

“You know he is a sadistic fuck, eh? Can break a man’s spine over his knee.”

“It’s impressive,” you admit, shrugging.

He narrows his eyes, but it seems more mocking than challenging. He doesn’t think you are anything to take seriously. An interesting bauble to bat at and toy with, to see if you’ll jump or squeak for his entertainment. He cracks his neck and takes another step, the netting that hides his face playing shadows across what little skin is visible.

“Has he told you about me?” he asks, voice dipping.

He has. “Only some.”

He looms in closer, radiating menace. He’s a broad man, makes up for height with presence alone. Objectively intimidating, you suppose.

“Trying not to frighten you,” he coos, “what a sweet boyfriend.”

You hum, noncommittal. Not even sure if you can feel fear while conscious. In your nightmares, it’s visceral enough to taste - but it only ever lingers on the back of your tongue once you wake. After all, there’s nothing to fear among the living. Not anymore.

“Is there something to be frightened of?” you ask.

“I could tell you such tales,” he croons, bending his head to speak low and intimate. “Maybe even a demonstration… of the things they accuse me of…”

You see the flicker of his hand in the corner of your eye.

“Don’t touch me,” you warn.

He laughs, rust and dried blood. “Or what, little mouse?”

“You’ll regret it.”

You hear Konig shift behind you, though you can’t tell if it’s in preparation to intervene or out of pure arousal. Perhaps both.

“Is that a threat?” Krueger mocks.

You are under no delusions that you’re better equipped for a fight than him. He has more experience and training, he’ll win in an altercation, that’s just a fact. But you don’t have to win, that’s not what you’ve promised. You’ll just make him regret starting it in the first place.

You look him in the eye.

“Yes.”

His fingertips skim the strap of your dress. You lunge, slamming your forehead into his nose. It crunches. He jerks his hand back, instinctively reaching for his face, folding a bit. Point made, step back, adjusting your necklace into place again.

And then Konig reaches past you, snatching the shoulder of Krueger’s shirt and shaking him hard. He snarls out something in German, sending Krueger to his knees.

“I am sorry, miss,” he says to you fervently, “I am so sorry. I did not think - he is an asshole. I am sorry.”

You pat his arm, lean past his hulking form, still gripping Krueger now on his knees. You curl your fingers in the netted mask and jerk his head forward.

“This is the best way to stop the bleeding,” you say. “Don’t be rude again.”

He gurgles something out, you can’t even tell if it’s English or German. You release him and turn on your heel.

“The range is next, right?”

Konig is at your side instantly. “Yes, miss.”

You meet the last of Konig’s regular teammates outside the range. (You had to cut that little excursion short. Even seeing you with a gun in your hands had his knees shaky. You got through one magazine before he was making noises in the back of his throat. It took fifteen minutes for his erection to deflate a reasonable amount.)

He’s a big man, covered from head to toe in black tactical gear - again, with a mask. Coming in with a sniper rifle over his shoulder as you and Konig are leaving. His name is Nikto. You meet his eyes as you smile and nod in greeting, Konig introducing you like before.

Maybe you haven’t quite sunk back into your Normalness yet, or perhaps Not Quite People recognize each other. But he takes one look at you and knows. You know too.

Apropos nothing, he offers you a wicked knife, hilt first. Your fingers don’t touch as you take it.

“For your next hunt,” he rumbles. “Konig is lucky.”

You blink as he walks off, glance at the blade in your hand. “It’s nice.”

Konig fidgets, staring after Nikto. “How did he know?”

You shrug.

Konig turns back to you, nervousness swirling. “Are you worried?”

You snort. “No.”

Why would a bear bother a mountain lion?

That night, you lay Konig down and grind your dripping pussy along the rigid length of his cock. He twists his fingers tight in the bed sheets (you already hear them tearing; you have spares for this) and cries while you recount every part of the day as if he wasn’t there with you. He’s stark naked, vulnerable, trembling while your dress drapes over your thighs, obscuring the obscene view of his cockhead rubbing your puffy clit.

He begs in intervals but you just keep speaking over him, recounting needless details like building names and the food served in the cafeteria. When you reach the end of the visit, you lean down. Propping yourself on his chest, you speak soft and syrupy warm into his ear.

“You did so well handling Krueger today. Such a good boy, keeping him down for me. I’m proud of you for knowing to wait. My good guard dog.”

He dissolves into a puddle in seconds, weakly asking permission to please, please, please let him cum early just this once.

You let him.

In gratitude, he eats you out until you fall asleep.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #konig #cod konig #konig x reader #pathetic stalker konig #rabid reader #in love with a fever fic #heavy kink

266 notes · View notes

cozage · 20 hours

Note

hello! Im kinda new to tumblr so i dont really know if im supposed to send requests here so sorry if im supposed to send it somewhere else, but for my request can it be fem! Reader x sanji? Hurt to comfort where he says something mean but then apologizes? And can you pull out the angsty bit a little, but make the ending fluffy? And for the format can it be like a mini fic? If you want you can add other characters but i mainly want sanji! Thats all! Sorry if my request didnt make sense as im new to tumblr😔. Thank youu!

A/N: Hi! You did everything perfectly!! Thank you for the request <3 it was so hard to make Sanji mean even accidentally 😭 I hope this is good! It’s also not edited so please forgive any grammatical errors! Characters: fem reader x Sanji Cw: Sanji is an idiot and says mean things (and is a little sexist) Total word count: 900

Rude Comments

“I can do it, Sanji.” Your words came out quick and short. Your temper was rising, both at your task at hand and the blonde who was hovering behind you. He didn’t normally come with you on jobs for Franky, but he had been free today.

“It’ll be faster if I do it,” Sanji offered. He reached out for the wrench.

“I can do it!” you snapped again. You pulled away from the task and glared at him. “Franky asked me to do this, so let me do it!”

“Well, it’s just…” Sanji eyed your clenched fist around the wrench and took a step back. “It’s not really a woman’s job to do this sort of thing, and-”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” you bellowed. “You think I’m not capable of doing this?”

Sanji threw his hands up in a plea. “No my love! It’s not that at all! It’s just…you’re not very good at this.”

It felt as though you had swallowed a stone. “Franky always asks me to do this.”

“And you’re being very helpful!” Sanji said quickly. “But he gives it to you because it’s not exactly a top priority task and…well, it’s really hard to mess up.”

Sanji gave a weary look back to your workplace as if your handiwork spoke for itself. His pitied gaze and words made you suddenly want to be alone.

“Fine,” you mumbled, dropping the wrench to the ground. “Fix it for me, then.”

“Of course, darling!” Sanji jumped at the wrench. You were fairly sure he was already starting to explain how he turned the bolt, but you walked out the door without listening further.

You didn’t see Sanji for a while. That was fine with you, though. You retreated to the back of the ship and perched atop a barrel, staring out at the sea to think. Did Franky always give you useless tasks just to keep you busy? You frequently had to return to the same tasks again and again. What if Franky broke things just to have you fix them?

The thought brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure Franky enjoyed your company and valued your help. He had called you “super indispensable” more times than you could count. Was it all just a lie?

“Darling?”

Sanji’s voice broke through your mental spiral and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Yeah?” Your voice came out wobbly, but there was no point in hiding from Sanji.

You turned to face him. You had been ready for him to fuss over you, but you found that he was covered in sweat and grease and plenty of other weird stains and smears. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge your puffy eyes at first. He looked too exhausted.

“So, this is the part where I apologize,” he said softly.

He strode over to you in three steps and swept your hair out of your face. His hands were covered in grime, and you could feel the oily substance stick to your face. The feeling made you jerk away from him, but he was already pulling out a clean cloth and wiping it away.

“I’m sorry I said those things, my love. I know you are very capable of doing anything you put your mind to. Your persistence is one of my favorite things about you. I shouldn’t have tried to take that away from you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry I thought I could do something better than you just because of our genders.”

His words made your eyes swell. You had planned on still being mad at him after this. But seeing those crystal blue eyes and hearing his sweet words made you crumble all over again.

“I forgive you.” You sniffed and wiped the tears from your eyes again. “Just don’t do it again.”

Sanji let out a laugh. “Oh, I will never be taking on a task Franky gives you again. You know how I said it was ‘hard to screw up’? It turns out that was wrong. I broke the whole pipe. Franky was pissed. He said he doesn’t let anyone touch that problem except you and him. Something about the pressure system needing a delicate hand, and only the two of you have the knack for it.”

It took a moment for his words to process, but you could feel your heart swelling. “Franky only lets me do that?”

Sanji nodded, guiding you towards the kitchen. “And a few other tasks. Says you’re the only one he trusts to do it right.”

“I didn’t know that.” You had a vague feeling that you needed to cry for an entirely different reason now.

He gave another laugh and sat you at the counter. “Well, you always excel at everything you do. It turns out I have a lot to make up for. What should we start with, chocolate cake or ice cream?”

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #cozage #i hope this is decent i haven't written in SO long but I'm (trying to) be back!!!!#✧˚sanji✧˚

166 notes · View notes

catmiemy · 1 day

Text

Another Chance to Live Part 5 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Things between Ana and you are going great, sadly the same isn't true for other aspects of your life.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

A/N: One day early is still early, right? However the good news is that I almost finished editing the last part, so you should get that one at the beginning of next week. Although I might have to find a way to incorporate Ana's pink hair!

Happy reading! 😊

Things continued to flourish between Ana and you, and soon the two of you spent every possible minute together. Not that this was much of a change, you had more or less been doing that from the beginning. You still met up with other people too, you weren’t totally reclusive, but usually you did so together.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you started wondering if maybe moving in should be something that should be brought to the table sometime soon. What was the point of paying for two apartments when you were always together at one or the other?

However, you still weren’t confident enough to bring up something big like that on your own. Being with Ana, who constantly told and showed you how amazing she thought you were, had definitely helped bolster your confidence, but there were limits.

You were once again thinking about starting a conversation about moving in together while Ana and you were lying on your couch after a long day of training. The Swiss woman was in front of you, snuggled against your chest, your entangled hands resting on her stomach.

In the end you couldn’t go through with it though, just like always. You resigned yourself to wait for Ana to bring it up. Plus you didn’t want to complicate or possible even ruin a nice evening.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to go in tomorrow,” you sighed contently.

“Me too,” Ana agreed instantly, turning around to give you a soft kiss.

It went deeper than just the joy of having a day off for the both of you. Even after several months neither of you had really found your footing at your respective teams. At least it had gotten easier since you began talking about it together. It felt good to let out all of your emotions and complain about your situation without being scared to be judged for it.

It was in that moment that your phone buzzed and when you checked it you sighed again. This time out of unhappiness though. In an instant Ana sat up and turned around to you properly, a non nonsense expression on her face.

“Okay, what was that? This keeps happening, you checking your phone and then looking unhappy about it. Is someone bothering you? Mean comments? A stalker? Please talk to me,“ your girlfriend all but begged.

You hadn’t even realized that she had taken note of this happening. In your mind you had been subtle.

“It’s nothing really.“

Ana just raised her eyebrows, telling you with that one small gesture that she didn’t accept your answer. That she in fact thought this was something, something important even, if it was bothering you in any capacity.

“Just my parents, complaining I haven’t been around much lately,” you explained, not thinking much about it.

However, when Ana’s face fell and guilt spread across it, you recognized your mistake. Only now did you realize how this must have sounded to your girlfriend.

“Wait no, that came out wrong,” you scrambled to make this right, to put a smile back on your girlfriend’s face. You didn’t get far though before Ana interrupted you.

“Please don’t. You don’t have to lie, it’s fine. I’m sorry that I never thought about that. Now that I think about it, I realize that I have been monopolizing you a lot lately,” your girlfriend apologized, chuckling self-deprecating.

In that moment you hated yourself a little for making Ana doubt herself, for making her apologize for something that had made you so happy.

“No, no, no! Don’t apologize, tesoro, please. These last few months have been the best in my life and I’ve been so happy. And sure you’ve been monopolizing me, but only because I also wanted that. To be honest my parents aren’t the easiest,” you said, hoping that the Swiss woman could hear your sincerity.

You weren’t completely convinced that she did, still seeing some lingering doubt and guilt in her eyes, but the moment you uttered the last sentence, all of Ana’s focus shifted to that.

“Oh, I didn’t know. Do you want to talk about it?”Ana spotted your reluctance, so she continued, “You said yourself that talking about your emotions has been helpful.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, leave it to the Swiss woman to beat you with your own words. She was right though. Still, this was different. This was definitely a case of you just being whiney and spoiled.

“Please?“ Your girlfriend pleaded and there was no way you could ever resist that face.

“Fine, but honestly it’s nothing bad at all, I’m just being ungrateful and apparently I love complaining about everything.”

You quickly moved on when you detected a fair amount of unhappiness about your words on your girlfriend’s face. She didn’t like it at all when you put yourself down. However, Ana also knew that you shouldn’t be stopped when you got into sharing mode, otherwise you would most likely withdraw again. Therefore the Swiss woman bit her lip and let you keep talking, vowing to bring this up again later.

“They just have a lot of expectations about who I should be and how a good daughter is supposed to act. Sometimes it feels like they don’t really care that much about me, but only about the person they want me to be. But that’s probably normal. I guess everyone has an image of how their kid will turn out. It just really sucks when you constantly feel like you’re not living up to the expectation.”

Once again Ana had to basically restrain herself from speaking her mind. This definitely wasn’t what she would describe as a normal relationship between parents and their kid. However, she sensed that you still had more to say, so she didn’t want to interrupt you.

“And the other thing is that it’s just me. You know I’m an only child, but also none of my aunts and uncles have children. Plus they all live here in Madrid too. So it’s just a whole lot of people from one generation against me. No wait, that sounds wrong, like we’re constantly fighting. We’re not, we just…” you trailed off, not even sure yourself what you were.

All you knew was that you never felt relaxed in the presence of your parents, aunts and uncles, that you always felt under scrutiny and every little thing you did or didn’t do was fair game for them to take apart and criticize viciously.

“But like I said, I shouldn’t be complaining. At least they care. I mean they’ve never missed a single one of my games,” you finished, happy with the way you managed to put a positive spin to this in the end.

Ana looked at you in confusion. “Really? I’ve never seen them at any of your games I’ve gone to,” she pointed out carefully.

“Oh yeah, I meant when I still played for Atlético. They’re all live long Atleti fans,” you clarified. “It was really hard for them when I had to transfer.”

Clearly the Swiss woman didn’t like this answer, her jaw was clenched tightly and anger burned in her eyes.

“That doesn’t sound very supportive! Honestly all of this doesn’t sound like a good family situation to me, but I know I personally can’t stand it if anyone other than me talks even remotely badly about my family, so I don’t want to overstep.”

You could tell that there was a lot more your girlfriend wanted to say and it was hard for her to hold her tongue. However, you appreciated that she did. You weren’t ready to get into a long conversation about this right now.

“I actually haven’t talked about my family to anyone before, so I don’t really know how I feel about that. But I also don’t really want to continue talking about them right now; I need some time to process first. Up until now I’ve been so convince that I was the problem and if I ever told anyone they would just laugh at me. I mean it’s not like they were ever abusive or anything.”

In your mind you were still being overly dramatic and ridiculous, but the simple fact that Ana disagreed with that assessment, made you re-think your convictions.

“There is more than one way to hurt someone. And, Schatz, it’s clear as day that you’ve been hurt and people have severely damaged the image you have yourself.”

The gentle way in which Ana spoke to you, brought tears to your eyes. There is more than one way to hurt someone. You had never thought about it like this before.

“And it’s totally okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it right now. Just promise me that you won’t try to process everything all alone in your head! Talk to me once you’ve had some time to let it set, yeah?”

You smiled at that, your girlfriend really knew you too well. No, not too well, she knew you the perfect amount well.

“I promise, I’ll try?” It came out more as a question than a statement. And in some way it was; a question if that offer was good enough. Of course you had no reason to worry.

“I guess I’ll take that. And in turn I promise that I will bother you about it again,” Ana retorted, winking at you.

You huffed in fake annoyance, but made sure to communicate that it was in fact exactly what you needed with a grateful smile and by closing the distance, that had been left between the two of you ever since your girlfriend had sat up.

Sharing your thoughts and feelings wasn’t something that came naturally to you, so you appreciated some gentle pushes. It made it easier to believe that Ana really wanted to hear what was going on inside your mess of a brain.

With this out of the way, you tugged on your girlfriend’s upper arm to get her back into your previous position. You wanted some more snuggles.

However, Ana didn’t follow your silent request, her body still a little tense and something clearly still on her mind. She was nibbling on her lips, having some sort of internal fight.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” You asked, placing a few kisses on your girlfriend’s shoulder. The soft contact made her relax visibly.

“Okay, so I’m just going to come out and say it, but I want you to know that there’s no pressure. And really it probably isn’t my place to bring this up. However, I also know that you tend to over think.”

“And you tend to ramble,” you quipped, hoping to soothe some of your girlfriend’s nervousness. It worked like a charm.

Ana chuckled, sounding much less stressed when she continued, “I’d be happy to come along to your parents whenever if you don’t want to miss out on any time together, but still want to go and see them.”

“Really? That would be amazing!” You replied. „And you were right; I never would have brought this up even though I have been thinking about it.”

One more time you pulled on Ana’s arms to get her to lay down with you again and this time your girlfriend relented without pause, snuggling into you.

“So should I tell them we’ll come over for lunch tomorrow and then we’ll say we are meeting friends at 3 or something, so we have a reason to leave,” you suggested.

Ana agreed easily, deciding to not ask why you felt the need to have other plans lined up, or well a lie prepared to be able to leave whenever you wanted. Without even meeting your family she already knew they were very different from her own. Also, you had asked for some time to figure stuff out, so she didn’t want to add another thing on top of it.

After your girlfriend had given her approval, you quickly texted your mother back, before putting your phone away and focusing on the moment instead. You gently stroked Ana’s arm, the rhythmic motion doing a lot to calm yourself down as well.

Normally this was the moment you would began to worry, think through every possible and impossible scenario that could occur the next day when Ana met your family, but with your girlfriend in your arms it was easy to put a stop to that and instead bask in the peaceful quietness.

---

However, the next day not even Ana’s usually almost magical presence did anything to help you relax. Seeing how nervous you were, your girlfriend insisted on driving, which left you with the job of giving directions. But with how preoccupied with your worries you were, you missed several turns.

“Schatz, do you just want to give me the address so I can put it into the GPS?” The Swiss woman proposed carefully, after you had gotten annoyed with yourself for missing a turn for the fifth time.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m going to focus now. I’m sorry,” you apologized, trying to slow down the tornado of thoughts going round and round in your mind.

“Everything is going to be fine, just take a deep breath. We can always leave if you don’t feel comfortable.”

You only nodded tersely. It was sweet of Ana to try and calm you down, but she didn’t know your family like you did. You couldn’t just leave whenever you wanted, not if you didn’t want to risk a whole lot of guilt tripping and harsh words.

“Or we can just cancel?” Ana tried again, when she noticed her words had done absolutely nothing to soothe your nerves.

You chuckled humorlessly. That was even less of an option.

„No, it’s fine really. I’m just being dramatic again, don’t take me seriously.“

Ana frowned at your attempt to downplay things, but she decided to stop her futile attempts. She had to accept that words were not going to do anything for you right now. Instead she reached over and took your hand into hers, trying to communicate that no matter what happened she would be right there with you.

Although in reality that was part of the problem. By now you were seriously berating yourself for not thinking this through more. You had just decided one random evening to bring your girlfriend to your parents’ house, a first time occurrence since you had never been serious enough about someone before.

A little while later Ana parked the car in the spot you pointed out. And as soon as she didn’t need her hands to drive anymore, she reached over to awkwardly hug you over the center console. It helped to bring you back to your body from where you had been lost in your head.

“We can still leave,” you girlfriend offered, making sure you knew she was completely serious.

“No, it’s okay. Let’s just get this over with,” you sighed.

Only when you were walking towards your parents’ front door, did you remember to check in with Ana. You should have learnt from the past that just because the blonde often seemed so calm, didn’t mean that she always was.

You tugged on her hand to get her to stop, hoping your parents weren’t already keeping an eye out through the window for you.

“And how are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been making this about me so much. Now that I think about it, I should probably be the one calming you down.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Schatz. Also, I can see that this is really hard for you, so I’m happy I can be there for you. And really I’m fine.”

Ana’s voice sounded sure and steady, but still you couldn’t accept that answer so easily.

“Look, I’m being completely honest, somehow it helps me stay calm when you’re anxious, like I have something else than my own thoughts and worries to focus on,” your girlfriend explained once she saw your doubtful face.

This you could believe, you felt the same when Ana was particularly stressed or emotional. You gave the blonde’s hand a good squeeze, not feeling comfortable enough to hug or even kiss her when your parents were possibly spying on you.

“Good, but tell me if things change, yeah? We can always leave if you want to.”

Ana nodded, touched at this offer. From what she could gather just leaving whenever you wanted wasn’t something you ever did, even if your family made you uncomfortable. So, the fact that you were willing to do so if Ana needed it meant a lot to her.

Walking to the front door you gave yourself an internal pep talk. Surely things wouldn’t be as bad as some of the scenarios circling through your mind. Your parents weren’t the easiest people, but they also weren’t bad or anything. Ana and you would spend a couple of hours with them and then leave again to enjoy the rest of your day off. You could do a few hours! That was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Sadly, this time you were proven wrong. Things turned out to be as bad as you had pictured them. And it all started with the realization that not only your parents, but also all of your aunts and uncles were there.

Your first thought, once you noticed, was that you were now severely outnumbered. At this point you still had hope though and even chastised yourself for thinking about this in a ‘you versus them’ manner.

However, then it continued with your family basically treating Ana like she wasn’t there. They didn’t address her, they didn’t react to anything she said, they didn’t even look her way. It made you want to scream at your family, but when you glanced over at Ana to gauge how she was feeling, she smiled at you bravely, mouthing that she was fine and that you should stay calm.

You wondered if she was hoping things would turn around, that your family just needed a little time to adjust and warm up to her. Or maybe your girlfriend had already resigned herself to a few hours of suffering through the awkwardness because she didn’t want to do anything that might impact your relationship with your family. Both were very Ana things to do.

You reached the end of your patience though, when your mother started dropping passive aggressive remarks aimed at Ana. The second time she mentioned how heartbreaking it was when people just swooped in and ruined a family, without mentioning your girlfriend of course, but clearly talking about her, you jumped up from your chair.

“Can we talk in the kitchen?” You gritted out between your teeth, staring daggers at your mother.

She just looked at your father meaningfully, like she has done so often when you were a kid and were throwing a tantrum. You balled your fists in anger; you hated how easily they could make you feel like a child again. And not a happy, excited about life child, but a stupid, worthless child.

“What is it, niña?” Your mother asked you innocently when you entered the kitchen, making your blood boil even more. It felt like you were one wrong word away from having steam shoot out of your ears like in a cartoon.

“You know exactly what I want to talk about,” you snapped.

Still feigning ignorance your mother looked at you in pretend confusion. “No, niña, I obviously don’t, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked. So can you just tell me, so we can go back. You’re being really rude right now.”

This was the final straw. You were going to tell your mother exactly what was wrong, in great detail and not quietly at all. However, before you got around to venting your anger, you heard a loud voice from the living room.

Without even sparing your mother a second glance, you rushed back there. The only thought on your mind was that you had to make sure Ana was okay. That was much more important than shouting at your mother, you could do that later.

The scene you walked into wasn’t pretty. Your uncle was standing, his face red and contorted into anger, while he was throwing a stream of angry words at your girlfriend. The rest of your family was nodding along in silent agreement.

Ana on the other hand was still seated, her hands balled into tights fist, just like yours had been seconds before, and her gaze fixed on the table. It made her look small and defeated, but one look at her stormy eyes was enough for you to recognize that she was actually doing her best to keep her temper in check. Despite everything she was still trying to keep peace, even if your family had been nothing but horrible towards her. It filled you with so much anger and disappointment.

You caught the last few words your uncle was yelling, before he snapped his mouth shut, the moment he noticed you. Clearly you weren’t supposed to hear this.

“Isn’t it enough that you stole my niece’s place in our team?! Now you’re also taking her away from us! But I’ll tell you right now, you will never be a part of this family!”

Anger was roaring through you at this point. So when you opened your mouth to defend your girlfriend, you didn’t hold back anything.

“No, let me tell you something! Right now I’m ashamed to call any of you my family. This is how you treat my partner, the woman I love? She isn’t taking me away from you, I just finally feel happy and accepted exactly the way that I am. And she definitely didn’t take away my spot at Atleti, we don’t even play the same position!”

With that you marched over to your girlfriend and took her hand to pull her up. Ana followed your guidance without resistance, holding on to your hand tightly.

“Come on, tesoro, we’re leaving,” you told her quietly.

“Wait what? You can’t do that, we’re your family,” your mother cried out.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Just because you’re my family doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want and I have to put up with it.”

And without listening to anything else you walked out of the front door, the warmth of Ana’s hand in yours giving you the courage to do so. In the past you would have given in to your mother’s pleading, you would have been intimidated by your father’s anger, but not this time. You had learnt that you deserved better, thanks to your girlfriend.

Swiftly you guided Ana to the passenger side, before getting into the driver seat yourself and pulling away in a hurry. You didn’t want to risk your family coming out to try and talk with you again. Your confidence was only so strong; you didn’t need to put it to any more tests.

You didn’t drive all the way home though; instead you found a quiet place to park. It was important to you to check in with Ana as soon as possible. After all, you were used to your family, but she wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” You both asked each other at the same time. It made you chuckle which diffused some of the loaded atmosphere in the car.

“You first,” you pleaded. You needed to know right now how your girlfriend was feeling.

Ana stayed silent for a moment, mulling her answer over. It had been a lot to take in and she wasn’t completely sure yet how she felt.

“I’m a bit overwhelmed I guess. You warned me about your family, but I didn’t expect this.”

“Honestly I didn’t either and I’m so so sorry for it,” you apologized, harshly rubbing away the tears filling your eyes.

Ana gently caught your hands and brought them to rest on her knees instead.

“Schatz, you have nothing to apologize for. Your family’s actions aren’t your fault, not ever!”

You took some deep breaths to avoid breaking down into tears completely, there was still so much more you wanted to say.

“I’m still sorry and I hope you know that I don’t share their beliefs at all.”

Your girlfriend looked at you searchingly. “Not even about me taking your spot a Atleti?” She asked quietly.

“No, of course not! Why would you ever think that? Wait, has anyone else said anything like that to you?”

How long had your girlfriend been worried about that? It had never even crossed your mind, so you had never thought to talk about it with her. But maybe she had been feeling like she had taken something from you all along.

“No, no, no one said anything. I just thought…I mean with the timing…So you really don’t feel like that?”

The hope in Ana’s voice hurt your heart. Now you knew without the shadow of a doubt that she had indeed been worrying about that, probably been feeling guilty since she met you, for absolutely no reason.

“Oh my gosh, no! I really never thought about it like that. Like I said we play on completely different positions. Plus I’m pretty sure that the decision to let me go was made weeks before Atleti ever signed you.”

Tears of relief began trickling down Ana’s cheek. She had been holding this inside for so long and now she finally had confirmation that she had worried needlessly. You gently wiped the tears away with your thumb, a complete antithesis to how unkindly you had gotten rid of your own tears.

“I wish you were as gentle with yourself as you are with me,” your girlfriend whispered, leaning into your soft touch, letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment.

You bit the inside of your cheek, frowning. “I’m working on it,” you offered.

“I know you are, Schatz. Now please tell me, how are you feeling?”

Ana fixed you with a serious gaze, making it clear that you weren’t going to satisfy her with any sort of generic reply. Therefore, just like she had done, you took a moment to tune into your feelings and gather your thoughts.

“Angry, disappointed, sad, guilty but mostly angry,” you listed, “I can’t believe they treated you like this!”

Just thinking about it made you mad all over again. How dare they! And sure maybe you were biased, thinking Ana was the most amazing person in the world. But then again you had yet to meet anyone that didn’t like the kind-hearted Swiss woman, so you weren’t alone in your assessment.

“You want to know the funny thing about all of this?” Your girlfriend asked.

Somehow you doubted that there was anything funny about this entire situation, still you motioned for Ana to continue. You were more than happy to get out of talking about yourself more.

“The thing that really makes me angry? The way they treated you and apparently have always treated you! I don’t care that much about what they said to me or how they ignored me, especially now that we cleared up the whole Atleti thing, but the way they treat you? Let’s just say I was very close to punching someone.”

Ana’s voice shook with anger, and suddenly you were glad you were the one sitting behind the wheel. Otherwise you wouldn’t have put it past her to turn around to actually give your family a piece of her mind. And as satisfying as that would be, you didn’t want to complicate this entire mess even more.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. They probably would have pressed charges and I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

Your girlfriend shook your head vehemently. “Because of them”, she corrected.

“Fine, because of them,” you relented, “But the most important thing is that it didn’t happen and you won’t have to deal with any legal matters.”

Once again Ana shook hed head, “No, the most important thing is that you recognize that you’re not responsible for your family’s actions.”

You swallowed a couple of times, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in your throat. It continued to overwhelm you how much your girlfriend cared for you, how important it was to her that you healed from every bad thing that had ever happened to you.

“I’m going to work on that too,” you promised.

“And I’ll be right here by your side, helping you,” Ana vowed.

That was something you were never going to say no to. Everything seemed much less daunting with your girlfriend by your side. It was nice to know you had someone in your corner, and not just someone that pretended to be there for you, as long as you stayed in the corner they wanted you to be in.

“How about we go back to my place now and have a cozy afternoon after all of this craziness?” Your girlfriend suggested.

It was precisely what you wanted to do, still you couldn’t agree right away. Instead you chewed some more on the inside of your cheek, stuck in indecision.

“Or maybe I should go back and clear everything up right now?”

“It that what you want to do? If so, then definitely do it,“ Ana responded.

You didn’t even have to give it a single thought to come to the conclusion that it wasn’t what you wanted at all, but it was what you thought you should do.

Your silence was enough of an answer for Ana and somehow she guessed very accurately where your mind was at, “I get that you feel like you should figure this out right away. But, Schatz, I don’t think it’s something that will be easily resolved in an afternoon. So, I really think that putting it to rest for a little bit might be best. Or if you just want some time alone, I also totally understand that.”

“No!” You jumped in, “That’s the last thing I want. What I really want is to go home with you, have a nice cuddle session before cooking dinner together. But I just feel like I should try again. Am I a bad daughter if I don’t?”

You knew what you parents’ answer to that question would be. They had been telling you all your life that you were a bad daughter when you couldn’t meet their needs and obviously their need right now was for you to come and make things right.

However, Ana had slowly started to change the way you thought about yourself and your family, so you were curious what she had to say.

“Absolutely not! If my parents ever did something like that, I would expect them to come to me and beg for my forgiveness.”

“Except they never would do something like that in the first place,” you added the part your girlfriend had so graciously omitted in a vain attempt to spare your feelings.

“True. So can I take you home now and shower you with love?” Ana pleaded, unleashing her secret weapon on you, her pout.

“You know there’s no way I can say no when you look at me like that,” you groaned.

“Good,” Ana replied with a satisfied smile. “Do you want so switch so I can drive?”

You nodded, feeling too jittery to safely drive anything more than a few blocks. Ana and you both got out of the car and when you met in the middle, your girlfriend pulled you into a hug, swaying you softly from side to side.

“Just a little teaser for all the cuddles to come,” Ana joked after she let go of you.

You smiled at her brightly, glad that you had made the decision to go with what you wanted, instead of doing what you thought you should do. Going home to snuggle with your wonderful girlfriend sounded so much better than going back and dealing with you very frustrating family.

---

The next few days Ana was extra affectionate with you. To be honest it was surprising she could even step up her affection game since she was already very affectionate to begin with. However, you appreciated it and it helped soothe the fresh wounds your family had inflicted.

You got a lot of messages from them, although not a single one contained any sort of apology. There were a lot of, sadly very successful, attempts to make you feel guilty, and if it weren’t for Ana, you would have felt like the world’s worst daughter.

A little over a week after the initial fight you felt ready to try and sort everything out with your family. Ana offered to go with you, but you decided against it. Your girlfriend being there and potentially being disrespected again would only make you more emotional. And the one thing you needed was to keep your composure, if you wanted any chance at having a calm conversation about this.

In the end it didn’t matter though. Within minutes the conversation turned into a shouting match that resulted in you storming out of your parents’ house once again. You rushed home to fall into the waiting arms of your girlfriend.

“I just want this to be resolved,” you whined after the worst of your sobs had died down, “But there’s nothing I can do if they don’t even realize what the problem is. And I hate that so much! I hate not being able to do anything!”

Ana rubbed soothing circles on your back, humming in agreement. She very much felt the same; she hated that there was nothing she could do to make this all better for you right this moment. Having to accept that something sucked and you could do nothing to change it, was a bitter pill to swallow.

You cried for a long time that evening, and you cried a lot more in the next few weeks. Then slowly you began to accept this reality, resigning yourself to having no contact with your family for the moment. You only reached out once more, sending them a text with your thoughts and explaining that you wouldn’t come around anymore until there was a clear signal from their side, that they were prepared to work on themselves.

After that you ignored every other message they sent, even debating if you should block all of your family members, but you weren’t ready to go that far yet. They were still your family! Plus you had left the door open an inch, for the unlikely scenario that they wanted to work everything out, so you had to at least glance at their texts.

Ana wasn’t too happy with that decision because every message made you sad and worried that you were being selfish all over again. She even offered to read the messages for you, but seeing your girlfriend get upset on your behalf was even worse than reading the harsh words yourself.

Therefore every time you got one, you quickly scanned it, getting disappointed each and every time, and then deleted the message. Unfortunately getting rid of the words wasn’t as easy as getting rid of the texts; they played on a loop in your mind.

We did so much for you and now you just turn your back on us?

You’ll come running back to us, as soon as she dumps you!

How can you do this to us? Your mother can barely eat because she’s so upset.

We didn’t raise you to be so stupid and blind. I can’t believe you’re letting her manipulate you like this.

Why are you being so dramatic about a few words?

It all fell apart completely at the game between Real and Atlético. You had been dreading that match for a long time. Not only would you be playing against your girlfriend, but also against your former club.

Ana and you had talked about it beforehand and promised each other that there would be no hard feelings, no matter what team won. You were pretty confident that the two of you would be able to follow through on that promise, but the anxious part of you still fretted about it.

However, once you entered the pitch for warm up you were slapped in the face by a harsh surprise, making every other worry seem obsolete. Your entire family was there, clad in Atleti’s colors and loudly supporting your former team.

It wouldn’t have hurt quite so much if they would have been at any other Atlético game this season, but they hadn’t. So the only reason why they were doing this now, was to upset you.

And they succeeded. Forgetting all professionalism you turned around and ran back into the tunnels, chocking on the tears you were holding back until no one could see you anymore. You heard a few confused voices calling after you, but you couldn’t explain right now, you couldn’t talk.

You found a quiet corner where you slid down the wall and buried your face in your hands, your knees pulled closely to your chest. Your entire focus went to keeping your breath as normal as possible to avoid spiraling into a full blown panic attack. Therefore you didn’t even notice someone coming up to you until that person sat down next to you and gently pulled you against their side.

For a moment you went stiff, uncomfortable with the sudden closeness. But then you smelled Ana’s coconut shampoo and allowed yourself to melt into you girlfriend.

“Wait, you shouldn’t be here,” you exclaimed once Ana’s calming power had helped you feel less overwhelmed and think more clearly again.

“Of course I should be here, you’re my girlfriend. No way was I not going to check on you after that stunt they pulled,” Ana replied harshly, softening her tone when she noticed you tensing up, “You’re much more important than any possible repercussions this could have, Schatz.”

“I just want to go home,” you mumbled, hating how much you sounded like a little kid.

“You can if you want to. I’m sure your coach would understand and if not I’ll beat them up. I could even go with you! Or I can go out there, grab your family and throw them out of the stadium. I’d happily do that.”

The mental image of your girlfriend literally throwing your family out made you chuckle. Although you had no doubt that she would actually do it if you asked her to.

“Or you go out there, completely ignore your parents and play an amazing game. And afterwards we’ll go home and I’ll hold you all night long.”

You stayed safely tucked away in Ana’s arms for a little while longer, before extracting yourself with a sigh. There was only one option you could live with, even if it was the one that meant suffering for the next few hours.

Ana studied you with pain in her eyes. You didn’t need to lay out for her what you wanted to do, she knew without a single word. And while she understood, she also longed to take you home, far away from the harshness of real life.

“If you change your mind at any point, let me know, yeah?” Your girlfriend requested.

“And then what? We run away together in the middle of the game?” you joked, but Ana didn’t react to your attempt at humor, instead she nodded seriously

“Yes,” she confirmed.

You swallowed, fresh tears pricking in your eyes because of your girlfriend’s willingness to do an absolutely crazy thing, if it was what you needed. And just that knowledge was a huge help in getting through the game.

Not once did you look over at your family, telling yourself they weren’t there. Still, you knew, and it hurt. It felt like something had been stuck right through your heart, twisting and turning with every movement, inflicting pain over and over again.

You didn’t let it show, though. There wasn’t a lot you could control when it came to your family, but you could at least decide how much or how little of your feelings they got to see. And they didn’t deserve to see any of them.

Because while you always felt horrible when you knew that you were the reason someone was hurting, you had to assume your family didn’t feel the same; that they might even get some satisfaction from knowing they upset you. Otherwise why would they have done this?

Throughout the entire game you functioned on autopilot, and you continued to do so until hours later when you stumbled into your girlfriend’s apartment. You had asked to go there instead of yours because absolutely nothing at Ana’s place reminded you of your family.

The moment you stepped through the front door, tears began running down your cheeks. Ana had been expecting this and pulled you towards her couch, cocooning you in her arms. She didn’t even attempt to say anything to make you feel better; there really wasn’t much she could say. She just let you get it all out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your girlfriend asked softly, after your tears had stopped and your breathing had been much more even for a while.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to function right now. Not having to rely on words to communicate was one of your favorite things about your relationship with Ana.

“Okay, I’ll be here to listen whenever you feel ready,” Ana reminded you. “How about we block their numbers now?”

Again you shook your head and you could tell that your girlfriend didn’t agree with this decision, but she kept her tongue. She watched you like a hawk when you sat up and grabbed your phone.

“What are you doing?”

Ana did her best to keep her tone neutral, but internally she was anything but. She was of course curious, but mostly your girlfriend was worried that you had already convinced yourself again that this was somehow all your fault and were going to apologize to your family.

You simply showed Ana your phone, erasing all of her fears and replacing them with satisfaction and heartbreak. You had typed out a message to your family, stating that you would block them, and expected them to leave you alone until you were ready to talk with them again.

After you pressed sent, quickly so you couldn’t second guess yourself, you handed your phone to Ana.

“Now you can block them,” you instructed her, snuggling into your girlfriend again.

It didn’t necessarily feel good to cut all contact with your family for the moment, but it definitely felt right. However, lying all night long in your girlfriend’s arm definitely felt good, so much better than having another argument with your family that somehow always refused to see your side of things.

And being told that you were loved and that Ana was so proud of you, was also much better than being called childish, dramatic, ungrateful and whatever else your family came up with. Still, was it too much to ask to have a wonderful girlfriend and a loving family?

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader

125 notes · View notes

sisterslvt · 2 days

Text

thinking about mom finding a thong that she definitely did not nor would not buy me in the laundry.

she’s furious, marches upstairs. she throws the door open while i’m sprawled out naked on the floor, two fingers deep in my pussy in front of my mirror. we both freak out, although she gains her composure much quicker. “what do you think you’re doing young lady? you’re going to explain to me exactly what you’re hoping comes out of you wearing things like this!” she holds the lingerie up for me to see. i’m so embarrassed, i manage to stutter out: “mom, can’t you see i’m busy?! g-get out.” not good enough, apparently. she grabs my hand, still dripping, and pulls me to my feet.

“while you’re in my house, you don’t make the rules. sit down, and tell me why you have these.” i shuffle over to my bed and sit down, trying to grab a pair of pants or a shirt or anything to cover myself. mom sees and snaps at me “okay, so you’re too good for clothes around strangers, but you’re embarrassed around me? give me a break. stop. tell me about these already.”

she isn’t taking no for an answer. “i, I thought they looked cute, no other reason!” her demeanor changes. she’s no longer as stern-looking. she’s almost…inquisitive? “hm, well i’ll be the judge of that. here. put them on.” “wh-what?” “you heard me. show me what they look like on you.” i hesitantly take the pair of panties from her, slide them on. god, they barely cover anything, she’s gonna kill me.

“i think you have a point. they do look really good on you. but you definitely shouldn’t be wearing them out. clearly, all you’re thinking about is sex. so here’s what’s going to happen”

i watch in shock as she stands up, unbuttons her jeans, and pulls her cock out, pulling a string of precum away

“um, uh-“ is the only thing i can manage to get out. i should be disgusted, but between being interrupted while i was touching myself, and the way her curves enrapture me, the only other reaction i have is to stare

“what, baby? this is what you wanted, isn’t it? to be fucked in a thong? lay down on the bed.”

i honestly cannot believe what’s happening. i don’t know how to react

“do what i say!”, she snaps . “you’ve been so aloof, it’s time i reminded you who’s in charge” as taken aback as i am, i don’t know what other choice i have

i do as i’m told, and lay down on my back. “that’s a start. now show me what you were doing before i came in” i hesitate for a moment, and then start to rub my clit through the lingerie. god, it feels so good.

“good girl, just like that.” my eyes follow her as she pulls off her jeans and panties, and then grabs my thighs to pull me closer to her dripping cock.

“are you wet for mommy? hm, you want mommy’s cock?” almost instinctually, i let out a breathy “yesss”

she pulls the thong to the side, once again revealing what she definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near. i don’t care anymore. i want it

her tip grazes against my soaked pussy, not quite pushing inside. “tell me how much you want it, honey. it’ll be our little secret.” fuck, she’s so mean. “so, so bad, mommy. please fuck me, i’ll do anything”

she bites her lip and sinks her cock into me, burying as deep as she can, quickly followed by her pulling back and then forward again

“you’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you? god, you’re so fucking wet, i knew you’d do whatever it took to get off” why is she able to read my thoughts like this? “mom, you feel so good, don’t stop.”

she doesn’t. even when i start to orgasm, she only fucks me harder. the ecstasy of my mom making me cum over and over reduces me to tears, moans, and the occasional “fuck fuck fuck fuck”

then i can feel it coming on, the big one. “mom, i’m…gonna cum.” “good girl, that’s what i wanted to hear” she picks up her pace, puts her thumb on my clit “cum for mommy, baby” that pushes me over the edge, i clench a fistful of sheets as a wave of bliss, the best orgasm i’ve ever had washes over me. i barely notice mom moaning louder than before, but then feel her release inside me

the warmth of her cum immediately starts to leak out of me as soon as she pulls out. before i can react to anything that just happened, she’s putting on her clothes.

“wait, mom, don’t you want to hold on a second?” “that was nice, honey, but your sister is coming over and the laundry isn’t done yet. get cleaned up and dressed”

yeah she’s treating me like her personal whore, but i’d be lying if i said i don’t like it

#fauxcest #momcon #long post #like really long lmao

64 notes · View notes

orangeytree · 3 days

Note

could you explain step by step how you entered in the void?and could you give us some advice? thanks <3

The first thing I did was realise I’m god, that helped. Realising I’m in charge, not the 3D.

I affirmed to myself “the 3D doesn’t matter, only the 4D does.” - I then simply lay down in my bed, played delta waves:

youtube

I then knew I was in the void. Within seconds I felt myself detaching from my body. From there I just affirmed “I’m in the void.”

The void state is so incredibly easy. There aren’t really any “steps” I guess. It’s different for everyone, what you assume will work, will work. If you assume eating a hot dog will get you into the void state, it will. There’s no logic. The key is simply to relax.

Good luck! (You don’t need luck 😉)

#law of assumption #manifesting #void state #loa #manifest #the void state #manifestation #neville goddard #spirituality

64 notes · View notes

0nlythrowharrybeaux · 24 hours

Text

A Chance - Part 2^

Part 2 of this fic where Harry and Y/N are co-workers and he's trying to win her over but she doesn't really like him.

Warnings: argument, gossiping, insecurity, alcohol consumption. It's angsty to start but ends super fluffy!

WC: 7.6K

After your impromptu sleep over with Harry you were feeling a little self-conscious. You’d never really been bold like you had been with him, but he seemed to be acting quite normally. He wasn’t being overly affectionate or trying to remind you of what had happened the night before, so maybe he just wanted to forget it. So you made no mention of it either as you drove him back to his car on your way to work. You were so in your head about everything at the moment, you hadn’t even greeted Adam when you got into your cubicle. After about 20 minutes of only hearing the satisfying little clacks of you typing away and the occasional clearing of your throat, he got a little worried and decided to check on you. You could be grouchy some of the mornings but you were never discourteous.

“Hey, are you alright?” Adam asked as he peered over the divider between your cubicles. You were hunched over your desk as you typed into your document with a concentrated furrow in your brow, your eyes dead as they stayed fixed on the screen. There was a second too long of silence before you responded.

“What did you say?” You asked as you sat up straight all of a sudden looking back to normal as your gaze met his.

“I asked if you’re alright.” He repeated.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” You asked.

“You just haven’t said anything since you got here like 20 minutes ago. Was looking forward to your gripe of the morning.” He said with a friendly smile and you tossed your head back as you let out the most genuine laugh he had ever seen you have. You looked happy, dare he say. And you wore your joy very well. He admired the way your eyes were crinkled in a way he’d never seen before and he was suddenly very aware of how beautiful you were.

“My gripe of the morning means that much to you?” You asked through your laughter and he nodded.

“It really does, Y/N.” He said honestly and you smiled.

“Well, it’s…” you paused as you recalled how perfectly pedestrian things had been between you and Harry this morning. As if you hadn’t spent hours of your night flirting with each other. As if he hadn’t asked you what would happen if he kissed you? The way it messed with her head was her gripe of the morning. “…it’s this. My brain is being kind of weird today.” You explained and he hummed.

“I might have a solution.” He said.

“Go on…”

“Caffeine.” He stated with a smile and you rolled your eyes playfully, “Let’s walk to the cafe? My treat.” He offered and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

“What’s going on? Now you’re being weird.”

“Nothing I’m just…suddenly in a really good mood.” He shrugged.

“Alright.” You agreed and stood from your desk. You both moved out of your cubicles and you grabbed your ‘on break’ magnet and pasted it on the metal part of the door. You two started walking off and made some small talk as you got into the lift. Just as you made it out onto the lobby Harry was walking into the building.

“Do you mind if I invite him along?” He asked and you just shook your head and he smiled, “Harry!” Adam called out and he glanced up from his phone.

“Hey mate!” He greeted him with a smile.

“You just getting in?”

“Yeah, I had some car trouble.” He explained and Adam frowned, “Nothing too complicated thankfully.”

“Good, good. Well we’re just heading to the cafe if you want to tag along.” He offered.

“Might as well, I said I’d be an hour late…” he chuckled and Adam laughed along and you smiled. He then turned to you and smiled timidly, “Morning, Y/N. It’s nice to see you today.” He said ultra politely and your eyebrows creased at how odd he was being.

“What the fuck?” Adam chuckled.

“Hi Harry.” You said flatly, “Let’s just get coffee.” You mumbled and led the way. You could hear Adam teasing Harry about the oddly formal greeting he’d given you. When you got in Adam ordered with you to pay. After that you waited a few minutes for your drinks and Harry asked Adam about the basketball game he’d gone to last night. They were talking about that until you all got back to your building.

“We should all go out together!” Adam suggested as you all settled into the elevator.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Harry agreed as he spared a glance to you and you smiled bashfully.

“W-would that be alright, Y/N?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed easily, which surprised him a bit.

“Well, lets plan something for this coming Friday, after work?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, that works for me! I can invite a few others.” Harry suggested and Adam immediately agreed.

“Y/N, does Friday work for you?” Adam suddenly asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You agreed and soon the doors opened up on your floor and they let you go ahead before following after you and through the editing floor.

“Adam, can I steal for a moment?” Someone asked and he nodded and veered off to go talk to the person who called him and you and Harry continued on towards the area where your offices were.

“Everything okay with your car?”

“Yeah, thankfully.” Harry smiled.

“Good.” You hummed.

“You look very nice today, by the way. Was thinking it this morning but I forgot to mention it in the rush of getting out.” He explained and you bit your lip nervously as you glanced around.

“Ummm…maybe don’t say stuff like that here.” You said quietly and he smiled a bit.

“Right…so ummm…are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It’s just that…” you sighed and then glanced around to ensure no one was coming, “Last night. We like…it was nothing right?” You asked him and he frowned immediately, you could see the hurt in his eyes. “Harry, that’s not-”

“You’re right, it wasn’t.” He said as he started to walk around you and you groaned and grabbed him by the sleeve. “I have a deadline.” He said as he kept going until you let go. You huffed and then trudged over to your office. Once again, you were sitting in complete silence as you stared at your screen. You’d maybe read the same sentence three times already when Adam returned and once again, he confronted you over the fact that you were still acting weird.

“I’m just having a weird day okay.” You muttered back, avoiding form meeting his intent gaze.

“Fine.” He said before retreating back to his seat.

You decided to skip lunch since you felt a little queasy over Harry being upset at you. You really wanted to explain yourself. You looked for him but he had gone out for lunch apparently. You tried to catch him after work but he walked out with a couple others and refused to give you a morsel of his attention. It was like this for the rest of the week. Harry was just being extremely cordial with you but no more than that. You could’ve texted him, but you were scared that he’d just leave you on read, which would be extremely mortifying. So when Friday evening came along you were debating on whether you should go meet everyone at the bar as planned or just bail at the last minute, like you normally would. And just as you were reaching for your pajama’s your phone lit up with an incoming text from Adam.

Adam:

You better not bail like you always do. If anything just show up for me. Harry invited Destiny over lunch and you know how she can be…

You frowned down at your screen, fighting off the feeling of hurt and jealousy brewing in your stomach upon learning this information. You locked your phone and immediately got to searching for an outfit that would wow. You did enjoy getting dolled up on occasion, but those seemed so few and far between and it was never anything you really did for work. You were quite basic. But now, you wanted to put in a little extra effort, you were telling yourself it wasn’t to get Harry’s attention, but it was. And it infuriated you that you even cared that much, but you had felt a connection with him that night. You’d show him your vulnerable side! And you truly hadn’t meant to offend him earlier in the week, you were just scared to be more vulnerable when it seemed like the interaction you’d had the night you ran into each other was commonplace for him. If you did anything tonight, it would be to clear the air between you two at the very least.

****************

You were feeling a little nervous as you made your way into the bar. Granted, you were about 15 minutes late from the time you’d agreed upon previously, but that was bound to happen since you’d gotten a late start on getting ready to go out. You saw everyone sitting on the high tables against the far wall of the bar. Destiny saw you first ands literally leaned back in her seat to see past the person at the end. Her eyes literally grew wide as you approached. Then Adam looked and he smiled wide as you approached the table.

“Hey.” You greeted the small group before you a bit bashfully as you reached the table and upon hearing your voice everyone else turned towards you, all of them looking equally shocked as Destiny.

Well, except Harry. He’d seen you done up earlier in the week as well, you really couldn’t tell how expression because you skipped over looking at him due to your nerves over having to spend this whole night in his presence while he flirted with another girl. You were hurt and a little angry over it still, but when you finally made it to Destiny and took her in again you weren’t as upset. She was far more beautiful than you were, or at least by your standards and it just made sense for him to take an interest in her. Or maybe you’d been right about him all along and Harry was just a shallow dick after all and his kind and flowery facade was just used to his convenience. Like to let you buy his drinks and have you take him in for the night.

“Sorry, I’m late.” You added as you looked back to Adam, the most familiar face out of them all.

“You’re actually just in time! Saved you a spot.” He said as he raised his jacket from the chair at the end, the one up against the wall. It was perfect because that’s the seat you would’ve chosen for yourself if you’d arrived on time. Well except that across from you was Harry, but you didn’t have to engage if you didn’t want. You were certain he’d be flirting with Destiny the entire time.

“Thank you.” You said to him as you pulled out the high chair and settled in. You could feel Harry’s gaze on you but you just finished settling in before immediately reaching for a menu.

“I ordered for you already.” Adam said lowly to you as everyone else started chatting after the initial shock of you joining them wore off.

“Oh, thank you.”

“It’s the one called berries something. It’s basically a modified zipper based on the ingredients I saw.” He explained and your brows furrowed on how he knew what went into that cocktail. “Don’t ask…I spent five years as a bartender. That’s all you need to know.” He chuckled.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You chuckled as you set down the menu and he smiled.

“You look great, by the way.” Adam said to you lowly.

“Oh…th-thanks.” You responded a bit nervously as you watched as his eyes ran over you once again. Just moments later the waitress walked up with a tray of drinks for everyone and assured she’d be back with the appetizers they had ordered.

You knew that you’d be more of the wallflower on this night. Like you had mentioned to Harry before, it’s wasn’t that you didn’t like your coworkers, you just had vastly different interests. So as they all sat there discussing Grey’s Anatomy season 20, which had most of them in a chokehold, you just listened quietly. They were talking about these characters like they were people they knew personally. It was fascinating to you.

“What did you think of this last season, Y/N?” Carmen, one of the other girl there asked you and you blinked back slowly. You got so nervous as everyone looked at you expectantly.

“Umm…I actually have never watched that before.” You explained and everyone looked shocked once again except Adam and Harry.

“Wait…are you serious? Or are you just saying that?” Destiny asked with a disbelieving smile.

“I’m being completely honest. It’s not something that has ever interested me.” You explained, feeling nervous. “Also, the thought of anything medical just…kinda freaks me out generally, hence why I write and edit for a living. So definitely not something I want to be seeing in my spare time.” You explained and Adam, Harry, and Rama, the other person joining you, laughed at this but the girls took it as an insult.

“So then what kinds of things do you watch?” Rama asked and you bit your lip.

“Ummm…I like comedies more than dramas. Right now I’m a little obsessed with After Life and Shrinking.” You said and they looked at you with blank stares, “After Life is with Ricky Gervais. It’s about a writer coping with life after his wife dies. And Shrinking is about the same thing, just the man is a therapist and he’s coping with grief while treating patients. They’re actually really funny shows.” You said with a bright smile as you felt excited about sharing what it was you were interested in.

“That’s…dark.” Destiny mumbled lowly and Carmen and Rama started to giggle.

“To each their own, I guess…” Rama said and you tightened your smile and nodded.

“Wait, isn’t Ricky Gervais the guy that goes around offending everyone in his bits?” Destiny asked.

“Well, he does have a rather abrasive style of comedy…” you explained.

“He’s the original creator of The Office, isn’t he?” Rama asked in general.

“Actually, yes.” You added, “Another great show…both versions!” You added, “Have you guys watched that?” You asked.

“I couldn’t make it past the second episode, it was just so disgustingly offensive.” Destiny said and you bit your lip. “I can’t believe it was even allowed on TV.” She said to Carmen who nodded in agreement.

“I did like that actually.” Rama shared, “Kelly is my favorite for obvious cultural reasons.” He explained and you smiled, “I think I was born gay because if I were a woman I’d literally be Kelly. A mess over men, a shopaholic, and you’d never get me to shut up about every celebrity’s business.” He joked and you giggled.

“You’re like that now…” Adam chuckled and everyone burst into laughter at this.

You were thankful that the topic was off of you now as Rama shared a little bit more insight about how it felt to see Hindu traditions being shared like that on TV. Yes, they were tied to a comedic show, but to him that was the first glimpse of representation of his culture that he ever saw. And he continued to share that, though the show was a comedy, it brought up a lot of very real and important topics to light, they just did it through comedy, which made it more palatable for some people. You completely agreed with his opinion. Yes, it could be uncomfortable to watch but that was the reality for many people and comedy just helped to humanize marginalized groups to decrease stigma about them. You’d definitely try to talk to Rama more, you liked how he thought and he seemed like a very open minded person.

Despite the more positive turn that conversation took, you still decided that you would just be the wallflower tonight, lest you unintentionally offend someone else with your preferences again. But being the wallflower seemed to come with its own unique set of challenges. Adam was being oddly attentive towards you, it was starting to feel a little suffocating. And you had avoided Harry’s gaze long enough that he had started to flirt with Destiny so fucking hard, it was making your mind feel all jumbled with jealousy. You were relieved when she and Carmen decided to get up and dance to a few songs.

“How are you feeling?” Adam asked you lowly, his freshly licked lips made slight contact with the shell of your ear and it made you shiver in a bad way. You knew he hadn’t done so to make you uncomfortable, but the sensation of it was not one you had prepared for.

“Fine. I just need to go the bathroom, be right back!” You announced and scurried off. You wanted to go catch your breath for just a minute, but just your luck, as soon as you made it inside the bathroom you saw that all three stalls were taken and as you waited, a familiar voice caught your attention.

“So you and Harry?” Carmen asked who you assumed to be Destiny in the neighboring stall.

“Look, I don’t care why he invited me but as long as the night ends with him on top of me, we’re good.” She giggled and Carmen laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can keep Rama and Adam entertained somehow.” Carmen assured her. “Omg, girl… I can’t believe they invited Y/N and she actually came out!” Carmen exclaimed and Destiny burst into laughter.

“Right! I am surprised she showed up. Honestly…she’s such a freak though. Like what kind of person enjoys watching shit about death?!” She questioned as Carmen cackled. Your eyebrows creased in as you heard them. Wasn’t a medical show also full of death? The ones you liked were more about how to process grief. However, to each their own. You were ready to brush it off and then it got worse. “Okay, but the real crime. Her outfit…”

“Oh god, right…so fucking basic.” Carmen groaned.

“I bet she thought she ate with that one!” Destiny said before the two started cackling. “I swear, whoever she was trying to impress is running for the hills. And if that weren’t enough every time she opens her mouth we’re all bracing ourselves for whatever condescending bullshit she’s about to say.” Carmen interjected.

“For real! She has zero social cue awareness, it’s sad. And now she’s sitting there like a bump on a log just observing. Like girl, it’s evident that no one likes you, should’ve stayed home, babe…” Destiny said before they started laughing again.

You were holding back a sob as your eyes welled up with tears. You were done. You decided to just bolt and hurried out of the bathroom, when you glanced back to the table only Harry and Rama were sitting there on their phones. You then glanced around and saw Adam over at the bar, it was the perfect opportunity to leave. You could just request and wait for your Uber outside. You started moving through the crowd and when you reached the table Harry glanced up and saw you grabbing your purse. Your eyes met for just a moment and he frowned.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He immediately asked and it’s almost as if asking was the last bit of pressure that was needed to break the dam. Your vision started to blur as your tears started to spill and you just inhaled sharply before rushing off.

You started walking, hoping to find a desolate and quite nook for you to cry in peace and get your uber. Just as you reached the alley behind the bar you turned into it and just rested against the wall. Your tears started to fall with so much hurt and frustration and defeat. Moments later you heard your name being called and then you saw Harry rushing past the alley you were holding your breath hoping he just kept going. You pulled out your phone to call for a ride, and after another few moments he was walking back slowly, looking from side to side until finally he saw you nestled in the dim lighting as you typed away into your phone.

“Y/N.” He said and you glanced up to see him approaching, “What’s the matter, what happened?” He asked you with concern and you shook your head.

“Nothing, I’m fine. I just need to get home.” You assured him.

“Don’t do that.” He tutted, “Tell me what happened.” He insisted with concern and your eyes narrowed into angry slits.

“Why do you even care? You’ve been ignoring me all week!” You reminded him and his features furrowed.

“That’s because you hurt my feelings, Y/N! Again!” He responded with frustration, “And despite that I’m still out here. Stupidly, might I add!” He exclaimed and you groaned.

“Listen, about the other day…you didn’t let me explain myself when I was trying to.” You sighed, “I was trying to figure out if it was nothing to you. I just…I got nervous that the vibe we had was just in my head since you were kind of quiet the next day. It’s weird for you.”

“You were acting weird.” He chuckled, “I wanted to try to talk more but you were kind of in your head so I decided to just…give you space.” He pointed out and you pouted a bit.

“Oh…” You mumbled, “I’m sorry. I was freaking out a little.” You explained and he smiled, “My brain was all mixed up and the question came out weird!” You huffed. “I just…I didn’t want to assume that you felt something too when it could’ve just been the drinks.” You explained and his demeanor softened, “Clearly, you’re an affectionate drunk and I just…I don’t trust you yet. So I was asking in a way that…protected me from being vulnerable.” You explain and his gaze completely softened. He stepped up to you and grabbed your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears.

“You didn’t imagine it. I felt something with you too.” He confirmed and you sniffled.

“Okay, well that doesn’t matter now because you’re clearly into Destiny…”

“I’m not! I’m into y-”

“Y/N?!” You then heard Adam’s voice and a second later as he peered around the corner and saw Harry’s body right up against yours, holding your face his hands. “Let her go.” He said sternly to Harry who quickly stepped back with his hands up.

“He didn’t do anything, Adam. He was just trying to help.” You assured him and he glanced to Harry.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to her. I just came to check on her.” He assured.

“Well, I’m here now, you can go back inside. Des was looking for you.” He informed. Harry looked to you and you nodded, he hesitated for a moment and then headed inside. “What’s the matter? Rama said you just bolted and Harry went after you.” Adam asked as soon as Harry was out of sight.

“When I was waiting in line in the bathroom I heard Destiny and Carmen talking shit about me in the stalls.” You explained and your eyes started welling up again. “I know it’s stupid but I was really trying tonight and like…they were making fun of me and the things I like and my clothes. I was feeling so good about myself tonight and then just to hear that everyone thinks it looks bad and that no one likes me…this is why I don’t do things like this, Adam!” You raised your voice out of frustration. “I just don’t fit in!”

“Hey, they’re probably just jealous because the guys and I were saying how good you look.” He said lowly, “You really do look beautiful tonight, Y/N. It’s nice to see you in your street clothes versus the work get up.” He said as he came closer to you. “And I also have never seen Grey’s Anatomy willingly, my roommate watches it so I know things, but it’s awful in my opinion. So don’t worry about that you’re not missing out.” He assured you. Clearly just trying to cheer you up and you smiled slightly. Your phone dinged and you glanced down to see your uber was arriving in a minute.

“My ride is about to be here.” You glanced up at him.

“Don’t go. Stay.” He adjourned.

“Honestly Adam, I don’t feel like it anymore.” You sighed.

“Don’t give them the satisfaction by leaving though.” Adam countered.

“This is not about them, it’s about me and my comfort and my time. I don’t want to give my time to people who don’t deserve it.” You said and he nodded.

“Alright then. Well ummm, maybe next time it could just be…us two?” He asked.

“Yeah, like the usual.” You smiled a bit.

“No, not like the usual.” He said, “Look Y/N, I think that I have a crush on y-” your phone started ringing and interrupted him.

“It’s my driver. I really need to go.” You said and he sighed.

“Yeah, go on then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you Monday.” You said and hurried off to the sidewalk to see the car as described waiting with their hazards on. You immediately started to apologize to the driver as you slid into the back seat and you soon took off.

Your brain was in shambles as you pieced together that both Harry and Adam were about to tell you that they liked you. It felt foreign to you, unreal…it just didn’t make sense!

************

When Adam made it back to the table Harry was just knocking back his drink, looking like he was ready to go.

“Hey, where did everyone else go?”

“I don’t know, they’re around somewhere but I’m gonna head out. I paid the tab already.” He said and Adam nodded. “I-is she alright? Y/N?” He asked and Adam sighed.

“She will be. She just heard Des and Carmen talking shit about her in the bathroom.” He explained and Harry frowned.

“Of course they did…” he sighed, “Now she’s never going to want to go out with us again. I know this was a really big step for her.” He said and Adam nodded.

“Yeah…” he sighed in defeat, “I’m gonna talk to them about it on Monday. What they did wasn’t cool.” He said and Harry bit his lip.

“I get where you’re coming from, mate, but don’t know if Y/N would like that…” Harry said, “Maybe talk to her first, she’s not the kind that likes her battles fought for her, no matter how gallant the intentions might be.” He reasoned.

“How do you know what she’d like? And why do you care all of a sudden? She doesn’t even like you, H.” Adam reminded, starting to feel a little overprotective of you.

“We’re friends now.” Harry said and Adam frowned.

“Since when?” Adam asked.

“We had drinks last Tuesday.”

“Just the two of you?” Adam asked with an unreadable expression and Harry nodded.

“Yeah. It was kind of serendipitous. She got stood up by her friend and I had run into my ex-girlfriend outside as she was waiting for her new boyfriend. I saw Y/N when I went inside and she was kind enough to pretend to be my date so that my ex wouldn’t humiliate me with her new boyfriend.” Harry explained with a smile, “We talked for a long time and we were able to work out our differences. Well, more clear up why she didn’t like me.” He explained. “I mean, I’ve always tried to get to know her and understand her, you know that. I like her, I always have, but now that she sees that I’m not just a chatty nuisance it’s been better.”

“Oh…” Adam said, “Well, I like her too.”

“Of course, you’re friends.” Harry said.

“Yeah…” Adam trailed off nervously.

Harry then started remembering how he’d been treating you all week and over the night…maybe Adam like-liked you too. That scared him because you already had an established rapport with Adam. If he asked you out then you’d surely choose him over Harry. It made his stomach twist with hurt and envy and nerves. He felt like he needed to pounce on the opportunity, but after spending time with you he knew you’d hate a big gesture. So he needed to work subtly if he wanted to win you over. But he also felt weird about it because Adam was his friend. They weren’t best friends or anything super deep, but at least work-wise they had a good relationship and floated in the same circles when they’d spend time outside of work. Was he obligated to tell him explicitly that he wanted to pursue you romantically? He had no idea…but either way, he felt that he’d be fighting for your attention and affection one way or another.

“Well, I’m going to go. Did you drive yourself?”

“Yeah, but I’m good. So I’ll catch you on Monday.”

“Yeah. Sorry about bringing Destiny along, I didn’t know she was like that.” He explained with a frown.

“Apologize to Y/N, she’s the one who was on the receiving end of Destiny’s crazy.” He said with a chuckle and Harry didn’t know if he meant that sincerely or as a dig. As if he didn’t feel bad enough already.

“Right.” He said with a half-smile before saying goodnight and taking off.

**************

Saturday mornings were your favorite. You tended to sleep in a little later and then head to the gym that your apartment complex had because Saturday seemed to be everyone’s off-day and you were often the only person in there that early. You had just finishing putting on your shoes when your doorbell rang. You looked through the peep hole and saw Harry standing at your door with a bouquet of tulips of all colors. You felt your heart flutter, no one had ever gotten you flowers before. You quickly opened the door and he smiled.

“Hi.” He greeted you.

“Hi.” You responded. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to apologize.” He said and you frowned, “For what?”

“For bringing Destiny last night and ruining your evening. I didn’t know she was that kind of person.” He explained, “Ummm, I got you these as a-”

“Peace offering?” You asked and he smiled.

“Exactly.” He hummed and you took them. He wished he had the ability to take a photo of how happy you looked when you grabbed them from him.

“They’re so pretty thank you so much.” You smiled and he nodded.

“It’s nothing.” He smiled bashfully.

“It’s not nothing. This is very thoughtful of you. And I assure you, no apology is needed. How were you supposed to know she was going to be rude?”

“Well, true. But I invited her because I…wanted to make you jealous when I thought that you had just decided to brush me off. And I mean, she brought Carmen so…if I hadn’t…been stupid then none of that would’ve happened.” He explained.

“Well, I was jealous so…it worked.” You chuckled and he chuckled as well.

“It was still stupid.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” You grinned and he chuckled.

“Ummm…d-do you wanna come in real quick for a water or the bathroom or anything?” You asked and he smiled.

“That’s alright, I actually was heading to the gym right now. I like to go early on Saturdays because there’s hardly anyone around.” He explained and your eyes lit up.

“Oh, me too!” You giggled, “That’s where I was about to go now.”

“Oh, nice. Where do you go?”

“Just to the one here in the complex. It’s all the way on the other side, so I walk there as my warm up and then just get to it. We have a sauna too, so it beats paying anywhere else.”

“Oh wow, that sounds really nice.”

“It is. Ummm…y-you could join me if you like?” You asked and he smiled.

“Can I really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly and he smiled.

“Okay. Perfect.”

“Yeah.” You smiled a bit and he chuckled.

“Ummm, so are you gonna set those down or take ‘em with you?” He asked as he eyeballed the flowers and you glanced down at the flowers and then bit your lip nervously before glancing up at him.

“Ummm, right.” You said and turned to go back inside and he followed you in. “Are you sure you don’t need the bathroom or anything like that?”

“I’m sure, love.” He chuckled, “You’re gonna want to put those in a tall vase with cool water.” He said as you set them down on your counter and just nodded.

You felt so embarrassed for some reason, but seeing as you had never been given flowers, you didn’t own a vase. You were scrambling in your mind trying to think if you owned anything that resembled a vase and all that came to mind was a plastic pitcher you hardly ever used, but even that wasn’t tall enough for these flowers. You opened up your cabinets, pretending to search even though you knew you had nothing for these. And it was starting to make you nervous, so you suddenly turned around and decided to just be straight up.

“Ummm, t-this is the first time I have ever received flowers so I actually don’t have anything t-to put these in.” You explained and Harry frowned.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip nervously, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He assured you, “I’m sorry no one has ever done this for you.”

“S’just flowers.” You shrugged as you shook your head.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. Flowers mean things, you know?” He said, “The white ones mean you’re sorry, among other things. The yellow ones are for cheer and happiness, the red for passion or love, and the orange ones are significant of friendship and appreciation.” He explained.

“You know a lot about flowers.” You chuckled nervously instead of addressing the symbols of these flowers.

“My mum and dad own a nursery and flower shop back home. I worked there from the ages of 12 to 22, so I picked up a few things.” He explained.

“Oh wow, that’s nice. Seems like it’d be a really peaceful place to work.”

“Definitely was.” He smiled fondly. “But ummm, I mean for now we can just put ‘em somewhere else? Do you have like a pitcher or maybe a bottle?” He asked and you gasped.

“I have a souvenir cup from when I went to Universal Orlando!” You recalled and then went to one of your other cupboards and retrieved the giant Optimus Prime head. Harry immediately laughed as you turned with it and you giggled. “S’what I have.” You mumbled bashfully as you went over to the sink to fill it up.

“You know, I was gonna suggest we go thrifting for one, but I like this better.” He smiled sincerely and you rolled your eyes at him. “I think we’ll still need to trim the stems a bit, do you have any scissors?”

“Yeah, in that drawer over there.” You pointed and he went over and while you filled up the head he busied himself with trimming the stems just a bit more and they ended up fitting perfectly. With that task completed you walked over to the gym. You weren’t huge on working out, you only did it because it was good for you. So you often just did some light weights and then more intense cardio.

“So you’re into working out?”

“Not really.” You chuckled as you neared the gym. “I do it because I must.”

“Ah…”

“You’re a gym nut aren’t you?” You inquired.

“I am…I love it. I love that it’s something to work towards and that I can see results in.”

“Because you’re a guy. You could take up jogging for a few weeks and lose 15 pounds.”

“I know, but I’m not just trying to be lean. I like to like what I see but I also enjoy feeling and being strong. I like that it requires discipline and consistency. I like that it helps with my mental health too. And I’m not just a strength training person, I truly enjoy other things like yoga and swimming and pilates.”

“All the hard things?” You giggled and he chuckled.

“I was a beginner at those at some point too, you know?” He reminded.

“Yeah, but you strike me as one of those annoying people that is just good at everything you attempt.”

“Kinda…I’m just bad a pottery. I get too excited.” He explained and you giggled, “Do things with me today. Just to see how you like it.”

“Fine. But if I’m sore tomorrow I will be mad at you.” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“What’s the point if you’re not gonna feel it the next day?” He asked and you side-eyed him.

“That’s fine for certain things…not all the time.” You smirked and he smirked back.

“Wow…a little innuendo from little miss grumpy pants? I never would’ve thought!” He teased you.

“Just because I’m crabby doesn’t mean I’m not funny.”

“You are quite funny.” He smiled and you grinned.

“Thank you.” You hummed.

Once you got inside and Harry took his hoodie off you were quite taken aback at just how strong he was. You really did give it your best effort in terms of following his workout routine and while he pushed you, he wasn’t annoying about it. He didn’t fuss or talk you down when you were over it, he just finished his sets quietly while you just laid on the bench and waited for him to finish up that exercise before you moved on to the next. After an hour and you already feeling like your arms were a bit noodle-ly, you made your way back to your apartment and you were feeling hungry now. You didn’t want him to go yet, so as you made it to your building you decided to ask him to extend his stay.

“W-would you want to maybe go grab food or something?” You asked.

“I would love to but I actually have some late lunch plans for a friend’s birthday, I need to go home and change.” He explained regretfully.

“Oh…”

“How about a rain check? Maybe dinner, next Friday night?” He asked and you bit your lip nervously before you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You said softly.

“Okay…ummm, do you like sushi?” He asked and you nodded eagerly.

“Love it! Especially as it gets hotter out.”

“Right, it’s just perfect and refreshing.” He agreed, “I know a good spot that’s actually near here. And they also have a delightful mochi donut.” He added with a smile.

“Ooh…so you have sweet tooth?”

“I do. Especially for chocolates and well fruity things too…sweets in any form really.” He chuckled with a shrug.

“I get it, me too.” You confessed as you made it to your door and then turned to him. “So ummm…I never said anything about last night, so, I accept your apology, thank you for coming by and for…well, you know? T-the flowers…” You mumbled more timidly as you felt your face heating up as you blushed hard, your gaze fluttered down to your shoes. Harry grinned but said nothing about this, he found it endearing, but he wanted to know more because if he could at least refute what had been seen, he wanted to do that too.

“It was the least I could do. But umm…w-what were they saying about you?” He asked and you sighed and shrugged.

“Just that I was a freak and condescending and that I looked bad in my outfit…just childish, high school shit like that. It wasn’t that serious…” you played it down.

“Well based on how upset you were, I beg to differ.” He countered and you glanced down at your shoes again. “Hey, look at me, love.” He insisted and you glanced up at his eyes, “You looked fucking breathtaking. You always do.” He assured and you literally felt your mouth go dry, “And more importantly, I could tell that you were really trying making an effort to engage with everyone. I know that’s not an easy thing for you to do, so I’m proud of you for it. You seemed really excited to share your interests with everyone and it’s awful and very unfortunate that they made fun of you for them. And quite frankly, I’m also sorry for not sticking up for you at the table when they first questioned you for not liking the other show.” He said and you tutted.

“It’s in the past…You don’t think I’m a freak for liking shows about death and grief.”

“Absolutely not. We all have surprising tastes in certain things. For example, thanks to my sister, my current favorite show is Bridgerton so…” he trailed off as he chuckled.

“What’s that?” You asked and he grinned.

“Oh, you need to watch it. Or at least try to. It’s like a saucy period drama. Not very masculine but it’s quite entertaining.” He smirked.

“You’re just there to watch the sex.” You chuckled.

“So?!” He asked in mock offense and you threw your head back as you laughed, “You should give it a try.”

“I don’t know…I think the sexism of the time period will put me off.”

“I thought so too, until I saw the saucy bits.” He chuckled, “Honestly, I think you’d like it. I mean, you really didn’t like me and then gave me a chance and here we are…” he said smugly.

“I suppose you’re right…I’ll try the first season.”

“Good. We’ll talk about it on our date next week.” He smiled and you nearly choked on your spit as he said this.

“Date…right.” You mumbled nervously.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been on a date before, Y/N.” he said with disbelief building in his expression and you giggled.

“Of course I’ve been on dates…they’ve just been…few and far between and very casual. And well, obviously the partners not that good given that I’m still single…” you chuckled.

“Well, this one will be good.” He said and you smiled.

“Okay. Well, have fun at your lunch. I’ll see you on Monday.” You said and he nodded.

“See you then, love. Take care.” He hummed and you nodded as you stepped forward and hesitated for a second before just hugging him.

You wanted to, you had no idea why you struggled with showing your affection like this, but upon doing it, you immediately felt good about your decision. He smiled as he wrapped you up in his arms and then kissed you on the head. You pulled back and he brought a hand to your chin and ran his thumb over your lower lip as his eyes honed in on your lips for just a second before he leaned down and kissed you on the cheek.

“See you soon, love.” He said softly through a smile before pulling back.

“See you.” You said breathlessly as he hurried down the hall.

You felt like you were walking on light and fluffy clouds as you made it inside and to your bathroom to shower off the sweat from the gym. You’d had crushes on people before but not like this. For a long time you wondered if there was something wrong with you because you hadn��t really experienced the feelings other people described, but suddenly you were. It felt like there was all this energy brewing inside of you and just fighting to get out. You hated being proven wrong but somehow, you didn’t mind it coming from Harry. He wasn’t arrogant or smug about it like you could be at times. He had a genuine humility and goodness that emanated from him. Even just in how he was always nice to you when you weren’t nice to him proved his optimism and long-suffering spirit.

When you emerged from your shower, ready to cook your breakfast your eyes landed on the Optimus Prime head makeshift vase and the gorgeous and colorful bouquet resting in it. You were grinning like a fool as you walked passed the counter and to your fridge. But seconds later you were turning back and bringing your phone up to take a picture of the flowers and posted them on your story. You couldn’t shake the excitement buzzing through you. Your heart was moving far faster than your head and as much as you hoped it would catch up, a part of you just wanted it to run wild and free for as long as possible because having these feelings growing for Harry was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to you.

>> Next Part >>

---- Tag List ----

@sunshinemoonsposts @anotherdudetteinthisworld @matildasatellite @sad-avocado @sunflovverharry @cherrysulewski @daphnesutton @gurugirl @reveriehs @ottawaoutlander @jessitpwk @permanentllyharry @here4thefanfics @slutfortigertattoo @angelbabyyy99 @freedomfireflies @behindmygreyeyes @justlemmeadoreyou @devilsqueen722 @behindmygreyeyes

#harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles writing #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles reader insert #harry styles enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers harry styles #harry styles comfort fic #0nlythrowharrybeaux

147 notes · View notes

faithisyours · 17 hours

Text

Something to Tell

Azriel x Ace Fem!reader

Summary: You and Azriel are recently mated. You decide to take things slow, but you have something personal to tell Az.

Warnings: coming out, fluff

Word Count: 965

A/N: Sup y’all. Sorry I’ve been absent, a lot of shit happened. Anyways, I really just wrote this one for me. I think the topic of asexuality is really left out of this book series and fandom, understandably so, but I think it would be an interesting subject to discuss, so I’m here to fulfill my own wishes. Given the lore and rules around mates, I don't even know if this could be considered a thing, but I’m gonna try my hardest to make it a thing for my ace baddies out there. IDK if I’m gonna make this a series or not (probably won’t), but maybe see how people like it before making decisions. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to tell me. As always, minors gtfo. Adults, you enjoy!

You’re just finishing up bottling an allergy tonic for your neighbor’s son when the door to your apothecary opens, the bell above ringing out. You know exactly who it is, and you are simultaneously filled with dread and relief. Azriel, your freshly bonded mate, walks into the back room where you are working, his big Illarian boots creaking the floorboards wherever he steps. When you look up to greet him he gives you a soft smile, a smile you return.

You’ve known Azriel for a little over a year now, ever since Mor begged him to come pick up her sleeping tonic from you because she had been busy. But the bond haden’t snapped for either of you until roughly a month ago, when you were out drinking at Rita’s with the inner circle, per Nesta’s invite. Over the years you had grown close with the inner circle, specifically Mor and Nesta. What had started out as small talk when they came to pick up a tonic had blossomed into a beautiful friendship.

But the last thing in the world you had wanted to happen was to form a bond with someone, especially someone as good and sweet and caring as Azriel. Sure, he is beautiful, you of all people can see that, but the physical attraction stops there, like it always does. Emotionally you two are very compatible, sharing similar interests in books, music, and dancing. After the bond had snapped you both decided to take things slowly, moreso for your sake than his. Every day you grow more and more in love with him; you’re just terrified to see the disappointment and confusion in his eyes after you tell him you’re ace.

“Almost ready to go, Love?” Azriel asks, his eyes following the skilled movements of your hands.

“Almost done,” you respond, screwing the cap and writing the label onto the bottle quickly. You buss your wok table, putting away ingredients and empty bottles. You look over everything twice more, checking for anything out of place, but also as a means to stall. You are dreading this conversation.

“Looks good, Love. Want me to grab your coat?” You turn to him, a small smile on your lips, and grab his hand, gently cradling it in yours.

“Actually… Can I talk to you for a minute before we leave? I need to tell you something.”

“Ya, of course,” he squeezes your hand gently, reassuringly. “What’s up?” You take a deep breath and guide him to sit in one of the chairs at your work table, then pull one towards yourself so you're sitting in front of him. You take both his hands in yours. You don’t make eye contact but instead stare at your hands intertwined.

“There’s something I need to tell you about myself and I need you to listen and let me explain before you say anything,” you look up to see him nodding, a look of concern and confusion on his face. The knot in your stomach is twisting. Your anxiety is through the roof, but you take a deep, albeit shaky, breath to steady yourself.

“Okay. I don’t really know how to go about saying this so I’m just gonna say it. I’m asexual, which means I form little to no sexual attraction, in my case none at all, to anyone. Which means the likelihood of me wanting to have sex with you is basically zero. I know it’s kind of a thing for mates to do it all the time, and so I thought since I am the way I am that I would never form a bond with anyone, but I guess I was wrong. And I know you're probably thinking, “well, didn’t the bond snapping make you feel anything like that?” and the answer would be no. Umm…I guess I just want to add and say that I’m not broken, and that life will be a little different with me, and that I know my boundaries, but I’m also willing to try things with you because I love you and trust you… And this doesn’t mean I don't find you attractive, because I do, I think you're really pretty, but it's more in a ‘I want to paint you’ sort of way instead of an ‘I want to fuck you’ sort of way. And I’m rambling so I’m going to stop now.”

Your leg is bouncing up and down, gaze still glued to your entwined hand. A beat of silence passes, and then he squeezes your hands, which in turn makes you look up at him. His eyes are full of understanding and love, emotions you were not expecting to see. You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling some of your anxiety fade away.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes at him, the last of your anxiety washing away. He stands and pulls you up to do the same. He releases one of your hands, using his to brush a rouge strand of hair behind your ear, then pulls you into a tight embrace. You’re taken off guard, but you melt into him, breathing in his crisp, piny scent.

“Thank you for telling me,” he squeezes you tighter. “And I know you said life will be different with you and I want to let you know I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, and I know we can work through any problems we may face. You are perfect. Cauldron boil me if I ever so much as think to change a single thing about you.”

And with that, he releases you from his embrace, you wipe the few tears that had welled at his words, and you go home.

#acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #ace pride #fluff #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

sentientcave · 3 days

Note

Honest question. What tags do I use in ao3 to give me the EXACT vibe of retirement party? Bc I’m craving more like a junkie and I need a fix 😭

I have no idea! But here, have a little something from a few chapters ahead that I wrote in a fit of inspiration after reading this by @syoddeye. I might also recommend looking at Sy's work! They have lots of really good stuff in there. Also @391780 has a ton of awesome stories and was a big inspiration for how I write John Price. I always assume people have read their work but if you haven't? You're in for a treat.

Spoilers ahead, kinda, sorta. It could get scrapped if things take a turn I'm not expecting! I don't know!

The hand on your shoulder pulls you out of your focus.

You startle, knocking your headphones back from your ears with the back of your hand, smearing paint on your cheekbone. John stands above you, holding a glass of water like a peace offering.

“I knocked, but I don’t think you could hear me over your music,” he explains. “Haven’t heard a peep from you since this morning, and I was starting to worry.”

“What time is it now?” you ask, reaching for the glass and then pulling your hands back. Your hands are covered in paint. “Oh, shoot. I should’ve grabbed a rag. Give me a tic, I’ll wash my hands.” You try to uncurl your legs, and fall sideways into John’s legs. “Hm. Okay.”

“Legs asleep?” John sets the glass of water on the dresser and crouches down to help you rearrange your unresponsive legs out in front of you. He reaches for the glass of water again. “Poor thing.”

“My own fault. I thought I set an alarm, but I probably just typed the time into the calculator app.” It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. Pins and needles prickle up and down your legs.

“You need to drink this,” John says, holding the water up to your lips. His other hand curls around the back of your head to grip your messy ponytail, tilting your head back so he can carefully pour water into your mouth. He makes you drink the whole glass, one sip at a time, his eyes turned dark, blue nearly eclipsed by black. Your eyes fix on his, something soft wrapping around your brain as you watch the way his gaze tracks from your mouth down to your throat and back up. When the glass is empty, he sets it aside, but doesn’t let go of your hair. He tips your head back again, tracing his thumb across your lower lip, collecting a few errant drops of water.

Your lips part, and he slides his thumb inside your mouth, his breath catching as he presses down on your tongue.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls. Your clit throbs at his words. You curl your tongue around the digit, tasting the salt of his skin. The hand tangled in your hair tightens just a little. “You ready to let me take care of you?” His thumb pops free.

It takes a moment for you to collect yourself enough to speak. “Please.”

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

#Cave answers #3amfanfiction #Retirement Party #A little snip of something from a ways ahead maybe #John Price x OC #John Price x Reader #OC: Doll #The next chapter's about halfway written I'm just easily distracted #Also PFHwrittes has some fics that have unlocked things in me best left buried #And Dragonnarrativewrites has some really good omegaverse stuff (and all her other stories too) Not really RP vibes but awesome stuff #I should put together a fic rec list maybe lmaooo

43 notes · View notes

stoneagedevil · 8 hours

Text

They’ll Understand (Somethin’ Stupid pt. 2) | Alastor x f!Reader

Part 1: “Somethin’ Stupid”

TW/CW: Angel being Angel. Anxiety and fear. Allusions to murder.

🎙️

“Wear this little number? He won’t be able to resist ya!” Angel was keeping you captive in his room, currently raiding his closet in search for something you could wear to impress Alastor, and according to Angel, once you “reeled him in with your pretty face” and “rockin’ body” you’d be able to “bed him.” You weren’t necessarily pleased with his wording, your face turning as red as your dreamboat’s hair.

“Angel, while I appreciate the gesture, I’m not comfortable wearing a leather bikini.” You deadpanned. Your anxiety was nipping at your heels, and you felt the urge to run. From what? Most likely confessing. To where? You didn’t know. But you hated how it was bringing the skittish deer out of you, as it was truly embarrassing. Alastor and you often confided in each other on how your demonic forms had caused you numerous headaches, and you felt comforted that someone you admired so much also experienced the same things you did, just as he felt that way about you. But you didn’t run from things, as they typically ran from you. You stood from Angel’s bed and started pacing again in an attempt to quell the instinct to run.

“Even if he reciprocated, what am I meant to do with love? What happens after?” You tilted your head at Angel, and he dropped another inappropriate article of clothing in shock at your question.

“You mean you’ve neva seen those cheesy romance flix before?” Angel’s eyes widened. This was the saddest thing ever. Identifying these feelings was one thing, but the fact that you didn’t know how to act on them was so depressing to Angel. Just how emotionally constipated were you? Hadn’t you felt love before? What kind of life had you led that you didn’t know the feeling at all?

“I can’t say I really watched much TV. Just the same few movies I really enjoyed over and over again when I wanted to hear another’s voice. Definitely not romance films.” You contemplated. No, you couldn’t recall ever watching romance films. You weren’t particularly keen on watching much TV, and you only went to the movie theatre when something truly interested you. However, you would occasionally put on a movie in the background while doing chores such as laundry, as it filled the empty space; if it wasn’t a movie, it was music, and it most often was.

“Well sit your ass down then, because class is in session.” After unceremoniously pushing your shoulders down to make you sit on his bed once more, Angel immediately went to where he kept his romance movies, pulling out a handful and explaining each one to you, before making you watch the best scenes from each.

Initially, you were quite apprehensive. Angel the Love Doctor’s license was certainly questionable, especially with this prescription of mushy movies. But eventually, you resonated with a lot of the characters, specifically the ones who were troubled with their feelings, like that one “Edward Cullen” guy.

From your understanding, love was one of the most powerful emotions a person could feel. It drove these characters to do insane things that furthered the plot of the movie; things you’ve done because of your feelings for Alastor: like hurting people you felt threatened by. Through these scenes, you learned about jealousy, of so-called “butterflies,” how people apart hurt inside.

But love made them…happy. Happy. Content in domestic bliss. You felt a pull in your chest, realizing you couldn’t ever remember feeling that way. You hadn’t had anyone around you interested in the same things you were. You were always the outlier. Always the one picked last for things. It didn’t particularly bother you at the time; back when you were alive. You didn’t have much to care about. But now, you felt you had something good to die for, which made it that much more beautiful to live.

Your brows were furrowed in concentration, and you were so focused on the screen and the interactions between the lovers that Angel sat you in front of, you failed to notice a stream of tears coming from your eyes.

Angel quickly took notice, pausing the TV immediately. “Woah woah woah, why’re you crying babe?” He plucked a tissue from the box beside his bed and dabbed underneath your eyes. Fuck. He didn’t think he’d be making you feel bad.

“Crying?” You brought a hand up to your cheek, surprised to find it damp. You marveled at the way the films made you feel, how imagining Alastor and yourself in their shoes made you feel, staring at the teardrops on your fingertips. “I- I feel like I understand. Like a want has just become a need. It’s truly wonderful. Like a breath of fresh air.” You smiled softly, moving to look into Angel’s eyes.

“Sheesh dollface, you had me worried.” Angel rolled his eyes playfully, internally relieved that he hadn’t just made an overlord cry, but most of all, that he hadn’t made a friend cry. “So now that you kinda get it, what’re ya gonna do?” You brainstormed for a second at the question, as it didn’t take long to figure out what would make Alastor the happiest.

“Alastor is a musical man.” You stated, instantly becoming more analytical and focused on the best way to get your feelings across to Alastor. “He’d never shy away from listening to a good song…” You trailed off.

“…so? Are you thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’?” Angel smiled smugly. He knew you sang to yourself during daily tasks, but you weren’t much of an extrovert, only making scenes when you had to establish your title as an overlord whenever demons seemed to forget. He imagined if you knew he could hear you singing in the shower next to his room, you’d be mortified. It was funny how you and Alastor could be so different, yet so alike, as Alastor was an extroverted entertainer.

“I’m thinking that in order to make him listen, and to make this special, I should sing for him. People always say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but Alastor is quite adept at cooking. He wouldn’t need me for that.” You smiled to yourself, thinking back to times when Alastor would have you taste test a dish. Perhaps food was the way to your heart too, specifically his cooking.

—

Charlie was currently helping Alastor come up with sure fire ways to make you his officially (in his head you already were). Her notepad was filled with things her and Alastor knew you liked, hoping to put the information to good use.

Charlie had become wildly animated, smile stretched from cheek to rosy cheek. “You should tell her with a grand gesture! With fireworks and flowers and confetti and chocolates and singing and-“ Alastor raised a hand to stop her barrage of outlandish ideas.

“Charlie, I’m afraid that’s a bit too much.” Alastor stubbed out her sparkling ideas like a cigarette. While he was known to be grand in his executions (literal executions as well), he wanted this to be more personal. More intimate. Part of it was that he was incredibly shy about his romantic feelings for you, though he’d never let on to it. You were an intimidating woman, it was one of the reasons he fell in love with you, so he preferred to do this in private where no one could see his facial expressions. In addition to that, he knew how introverted you were in comparison to him; an incredibly private person.

“Okay, what about dinner at a super fancy restaurant? And flowers. You have to give her flowers.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” He summoned a rose, which had begun to rapidly wilt and die soon after the stem had touched his fingertips. It irked him. Something he previously didn’t have a problem with now stood in between him and your heart.

“Oh…” Charlie’s head hit the table. How was she supposed to help Hell’s population problem if she couldn’t even help Alastor express his romantic feelings for you? This was so hard.

“Fret not my dear, your dinner idea was exceptional! However, I think I should be the one to make the dishes.” A candlelit dinner with your favorite food being brought to you by him? You’d already expressed how much you enjoyed his cooking every time he held a spoonful of food up to your face. Feeding you and hearing you sing his praises on another culinary success made him feel as though he were floating. With you by his side, he was sure he wouldn’t have to walk anywhere ever again.

“That’s a great idea! I bet that would really impress her! And I can be the one to put the flowers on the table so they don’t wilt!” She clasped her face in between her hands, almost as if she was trying to stop her smile from getting any wider.

Immediately after establishing their plans, Alastor and his wing-woman Charlie had begun to research the best recipes pertaining to your tastes.

This had to be absolutely perfect, Alastor thought.

—

Music. It was what you and Alastor had bonded most over. He showed you Jazz’s greatest artists, the pioneers of brassy sounds, and you adored his passion in the genre. You listened to what you liked, as simple as that sounds. Your tastes often surpassed any one genre, and you found yourself dipping your hooves into anything; even just to give it a chance.

If music had brought you so close to Alastor, surely it would bring you even closer. Once you left Angel’s room, you dove into your collections of vinyl and CDs you acquired over your time in Hell. The greatest hits pertaining to love flooded your room, and you listened intently to the lyrics. Looking down at the notepad in front of you, you began to write about the way Alastor made you feel. This had to be absolutely perfect, you thought.

—

A couple days passed, and as Alastor opened the door to his hotel room to step out and retrieve the suit he was having pressed, a note taped onto it caught his ruby sight. With an eyebrow raised, he skeptically plucked the note from his door and began to read it.

“Dearest Alastor,

I hope you’ll find the time to come to the ballroom located in the hotel at 6pm. I’ve made a gift for you, and I’m hoping you’ll accept.

From,

Y/N”

You sat writing many iterations of that damned letter. Was “With love” too much? “Forever yours” most certainly was, no matter how true it was. “Sincerely” was stupid. Maybe you should just keep it simple.

“From, Y/N.” Simple. Simply stupid. But you went with it anyway.

Alastor’s heart leaped up to his throat, he was sure if he opened his mouth, it would jump out and find its way towards you. He retreated back into his room, opening one of the drawers he dedicated to you. It was filled with notes containing songs you’ve written down for him, and songs he wrote down that you recommended verbally. The wilted rose he wished so desperately to give to you that was used as a demonstration to Charlie on why he couldn’t. Receipts from outings you two accompanied each other on, and his ticket from your trip to the movie theatre that was playing one of your favorite movies at the time. He truly tried his best to pay attention to the silver screen, but he mostly found himself enamored with the way the light from the screen lit up your face.

He gently placed his newest treasure in the drawer, excited to see what you had in store for the night. Though, on the other hand, he was a bit nervous and disappointed. He’d planned on picking up all of the ingredients for a dish that would knock your socks off, in addition to picking up his pressed suit. If you had something to give to him, he wouldn’t have time to cook this night. His heart and shadow were getting antsy, the latter outwardly showing his deepest desires which he adamantly detested. He’d catch his shadow practically making heart eyes at you, and Alastor found himself wishing he would wave his hands at it to make it diminish like cigarette smoke in the air.

No matter! Perhaps after whatever you had planned, he’d ask you to a dinner cooked and presented by him. Closing the drawer, he made his way out to the dry cleaners to ensure he wouldn’t forget his suit when the time came to woo you. However, what he did forget, was letting Charlie know of this change of plans, who had already helped in setting up a table for two with red roses and unlit candles in a candelabra sitting in the center; all set up in the very room you wished to deliver your gift.

—

You had spent quite some time writing your song dedicated to Alastor, and soon after its completion, you enlisted the help of your souls-turned-shadows to play instruments and do background vocals. There was no way in Hell you’d allow a demon to aid in this. You rehearsed a few times before deeming it a perfect performance that you were willing to give to Alastor. The time was now a little after 4, and you decided to get ready.

Your hair was curled, makeup to your liking, and you wore a black tea-length dress with an abundance of white tulle underneath the skirt to make it flare out more. The sweetheart neckline sported a small, white, satin bow in the center. You slipped on a shiny pair of black kitten heels, opting for more of a comfortable dress shoe - your nerves were sure to make you incredibly uncomfortable, so you attempted to counteract that a bit by making your physical self as comfortable yet stylish as it could be. As a finishing touch, you clasped a string of pearls around your neck. They were a gift from Alastor when he found out that it was your birthday. You told him you didn’t need anything, and that birthdays sort of lost their meanings when you lived for so long in Hell, but he wouldn’t hear any of it, adamantly telling you that your birth was something to be celebrated. If you had figured out your feelings for him by then, you’re sure you would have kissed him.

You turned to look into the mirror wondering if Alastor would think you looked nice. Nervously, you made your way to Angel’s room beside yours. Hesitantly you knocked, opening the door when a muffled “come in” prompted you to.

“What’s up toots? Hey! Don’t you clean up nice!” He exclaimed, getting up from his bed and taking your hand to spin you around, dress flaring out around you as you spun.

“You don’t think it’s too much? Or too little?” You looked into Angel’s mirror, your hands worrying over any perceived imperfection. Angel once more grabbed your hands to stop them from flying around.

“Girl, you look great, and I know he’ll think so too.” He quelled your nerves. Then you did something out of character, you hugged him. Initially taken aback, Angel’s arms tightened around you.

“Thank you Angel.”

—

Alastor arrived at 6 on the dot. Not always punctual, never late, and always on time. Although he did want to arrive at the ballroom earlier, he didn’t want to seem too eager, even though he most certainly was. His excitement rolled off of him in waves, making the demons he met along the way to pick up his suit even more uneasy than usual.

When he walked through the grand doors, he saw his little setup that he and Charlie planned to set up for the dinner date. He contemplated hiding the table, conjuring a portal to a shadow dimension and pushing the evidence of his feelings for you into the dark abyss, but before he could act on this, he heard the clicking of heels making their way across the stage portion of the ballroom.

You were a vision, and he considered pinching himself as he thought he was looking at an angel. He hadn’t mistakenly enrolled in the redemption program, did something good, and then made his way upstairs, did he? You stood in front of a silver microphone, your hands shakily grasping it to keep yourself steady. Alastor clumsily grasped the back of one of the chairs meant for the two of you, slowly lowering himself into the seat and never taking his eyes off of your form.

“My gift is a song I’ve written with you in mind.” You said simply, and although you outwardly looked as confident as you always did, internally you were sure you were dying a second time.

The sounds of a glockenspiel sounded throughout the room signifying the beginning of the song, followed by background vocals singing “Anyone.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and stepping closer to the mic before beginning your song.

“You can blame me,

Try to shame me,

And still I'll care for you,

You can run around,

Even put me down,

Still I'll be there for you,”

You knew he’d never do these things to you, but you wanted to tell him that no matter the hardships, you’d always be there for him. Alastor’s heart was beating faster than it ever had before, was this a love song? No…

“The world

May think I'm foolish,

They can't see you,

Like I can,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

It’s amusing to think that not too long ago, you were someone who didn’t understand. But here you are now, singing that you couldn’t care less about what others would think if they knew the depths of your feelings for Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, these blasted eyes of his kept fogging up, making it difficult to see you. Nobody has ever done this sort of thing for him, and he was absolutely enamored with your voice and the lyrics you wrote about him. He gripped the chair that he was sitting in, afraid he’d float away and miss the rest of your carefully crafted performance. He’d never seen you with so much emotion on your face, these visual feelings you possessed highlighted by pink and red lights. He would’ve been grateful for the color choice, as it hid his bright red face, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, much less even notice the effect you had on him. All he could see and hear was you, and he wanted it to be that way forever.

“I just feel so sorry,

For the ones,

Who pity me,

'Cause they just don't know,

Oh they don't know what happiness and love can be,”

You opened your eyes to stare into Alastor’s as you delivered the next few lines.

“I know,

I know to ever let you go,

It's more,

Than I,

Could ever stand,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

You thought about how Angel had helped you understand in his own strange way, and this verse was almost like a thank you note to him. The music began to lull as you sang the last few lines.

“Oh they'll understand,

If they try love they'll understand,

Oh try to understand”

The last line was for Alastor, and you almost prayed he would try and understand your feelings for him, and hopefully realize any feelings he had for you.

The song had finally finished, and if Alastor had a time machine he’d travel three minutes into the past in order to hear you sing again. Then he’d do it over and over and over again. Making your way down from the stage, Alastor shot up from his seat. He’d rehearsed how he’d proclaim his undying love for you, but now that you’d done it first, he was scrambling.

He panicked. He actually panicked. He ripped the red roses from the vase sat on table and held them out to you, the both of you watching in shock (Alastor mostly in horror) as the roses had the life sucked out from their stems and the vase tipped over causing water to spill onto the floor between you both. His smile tightened, eyes snapping shut as he debated teleporting far, far away from here; never to return. But his jumbled and anxiety ridden thoughts were cut short when he felt soft hands gently pry open his larger ones, taking the flowers. It was you, and you were smiling the biggest smile he’d ever seen you make, and it was directed at him.

You lifted the dead roses to your face and inhaled the remnants of their floral scent, and Alastor’s heart melted at the gesture.

“Your song was wonderful my dear. May I ask for an encore?” He said, shyly. Your cheeks turned rosy, and you bashfully looked away.

“You didn’t think it was ridiculous?” You asked hopefully, tightly clutching your dead bouquet.

“Ridiculous? It was nothing of the sort! For a moment I thought I was in Heaven and I was most-“

You tugged him down by the collar of his shirt and pressed an unsure kiss to his lips. His ears stood straight up, tail secretly wagging behind him, just as yours did. He melted into the affectionate gesture, moving his claws to cradle your neck and the small of your back in order to bring you closer. Pulling away, you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.

“Y/N, your performance was absolutely astounding. I’d trade every vinyl in my collection for just a second more.” And that was the truth. He was sure no song would ever compare to the masterpiece you crafted for him. Because of him.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to record it and have it pressed just for you. You wouldn’t happen to know a guy with recording equipment, would you?” You flirted.

“My darling, of course I do! He’s quite the catch too, though using the equipment comes with a price.” He smiled smugly, cheeks just as red as yours.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“You’ll have to allow him to call you his girl, it’s just the rules my darling.” Internally, he was nervous you’d reject him. Why? You just wrote, composed, and performed an entire song for him. But it was you. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and he couldn’t believe quite yet that you returned the feelings he’d been trying to grapple with for some time.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a kiss mark (one he’d refuse to wipe off for some time). “I’d love nothing more.”

—

Later that night, Alastor and you had retired to your room. You sat at the end of your couch, his head resting in your lap as you told each other stories about what you had stupidly done in the name of your unknown love for each other.

“It’s funny, that table was in the ballroom because I planned on taking you on a dinner date tonight. Charlie lent a hand in planning it.” Alastor revealed.

You tilted your head at the fact that Alastor too had a “wingman” as Angel had put it. “Charlie? How funny, Angel helped me with some things too. He actually helped me realize my feelings for you.”

“Charlie helped me the same way. She said that you obviously fancied me.” He had a smug smile on his face, looking for your reaction.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at the allegation. “What? How? Was I truly that obvious?”

“Yes, well, a little birdy told me about a certain carpet incident with Mimzy, my darling.” That was his favorite story. He’d often imagine you glaring angrily at a clueless Mimzy, lifting a manicured claw and causing the poor blonde’s face to harshly meet the floor.

You turned your nose up indignantly. “Incident? I was merely helping her get a better look at the carpet she continuously complimented you on picking out.” You huffed, crossing your arms. Alastor laughed at your adorable behavior, loving the jealousy that came off you in waves at the mention of Mimzy.

“Don’t worry my love, no other woman could compare to you. Anyone who knows what love is could see I only have eyes for you.”

—♥️—

I hoped you all enjoyed that, and I really appreciate the love you all gave to part 1!

Taglist: @alastruist @martinys-world @ustulia

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #fanfic #x reader #hazbin fandom #hazbin fanfic #alastor fanfiction #Spotify

37 notes · View notes

ador3rin · 3 days

Text

₊˚ෆ you've got a new follower! | return to main | go to next

there’s a gentle breeze wafting in through the open window, carrying the flowery scent of spring along with it as you stare absentmindedly out at the court yard. the earlier conversation you’d had with your homeroom teacher was replaying in your mind on a loop.

“yn-chan! what’s got you so quiet?” your brunette friend paused mid sentence, catching on to your lack of responses. the two of you were currently hanging out in a classroom, opting to spend lunch inside for the day.

hina had been rambling on about some ridiculous argument she’d witnessed earlier between two girls in the hallway, all the while scarfing down a handful of sweets she’d pulled out of her bag. you made a mental note to swipe a few later when she wasn’t looking.

“sorry hina,” shuffling around in your seat, you sit upright and readjust to properly face the girl sitting across from you. “i’m just thinking about what ms maeko said to me earlier.” you explain with a sigh, hands coming up to rub at your temples.

“huh? the college thing?” her head cocks to the side, confusion evident in her features.

“you’ve got good grades anyway, so what’s got you in such a mood?” you wish you weren’t just as clueless as she was. honestly, you weren't expecting the conversation to head in that direction yourself either.

earlier that day just before lunch had began, you had approached your home room teacher in hopes of seeking out college advice, since the pros and cons list you’d been writing up wasn’t proving to be of much help at all. however, much to your surprise she had a piece of advice of her own. she’d told you to go and join a club.

it would look good on your transcript, she reasoned. you got decent grades so there wasn’t really much else you could do in that department except maintaining them. but according to her, colleges were no longer purely looking for academic excellency.

you frustratingly relayed the conversation to your best friend and mentioned how you had been mentally browsing through the list of potential clubs ever since then. your options seemed slim.

“that’s it? just join the volleyball club.” unimpressed with your woes, she stares at you with a brow raised, answering with a simple shrug of her shoulders. “i mean, i’ve told you how i’ve been kinda swamped lately with manager duties and school work. plus, it’d be really fun if we were both managers together!”.

and that was how you managed to find yourself standing outside the volleyball gym less than a week later. unfortunately, no one seemed to be there just yet so you were stuck loitering around, eyes nervously searching for any sight of hina.

“are ya looking for something?” an unfamiliar male speaks up, and you turn to face the disembodied voice behind you. it was one of the miya twins, standing a few feet away with his head cocked to the side.

honestly, you didn’t really know either of their names despite having seen them around before. you’d only ever registered their existence whenever hina was dropping off something to the gym, or the few times you’d wait for her to finish after school.

just as you’re about to open your mouth to respond, another male voice pipes up.

“would ya quit bothering the lady ‘tsumu, i’m sure she’s not interested.” the silver haired twin appears, casually smacking his sibling in the back of the head. your eyes widened at the scene, unsure of what to say or how to react. was this normal? you really didn’t want to break up a fight on your first day.

the two are almost immediately bickering as if you aren’t awkwardly standing in front of them, and you can feel regret slowly creep through your veins. they both were sporting their club jackets, with similar duffel bags slung around their respective shoulders.

“sorry i took awhile!” your attention shifts to hina’s voice, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of her approaching. “can you two stop fighting? you’re going to scare yn off.” she sternly scolds the males and effortlessly breaks up their squabble. her authority is rather impressive, as this is a side of her you rarely see.

turning her eyes on to you, the brunette beams with excitement as she links your arms, dragging you along with her. “c’mon! the others will be here soon, i’ll show you around inside!”. the gym was surprisingly larger than it appeared from the outside, bright lights lit up the shiny wooden court, and everywhere you looked seemed to be picture perfect.

you were only somewhat aware of the prestige that your school’s volleyball team held, as you’d never really cared for sports before. the guys were currently nearing the ending of their training, and it had taken you a little while to grow accustomed to the slamming balls and squeaky shoes.

hina held a brief introduction before training had commenced, but you honestly couldn't keep up with all the names even if you tried. instead, you’d opted to pick one defining feature of each member and memorised it to their jersey numbers. for example, number ten had very distinct, almost fox-like eyes. number seven was.. a character, yet when he's in the zone he's a completely different person.

it was unexpectedly intimidating to see all the players up close, especially when they’d crowded together in front of you for introductions earlier. you had seen a few of them around school before sure, but being face to face made them seem all the more larger than life.

boasting both height and a sturdy athletic build, it would be a lie to deny that they weren’t all fairly attractive in their own rights. but mostly when they weren’t speaking though. suddenly the existence of the volleyball club fangirls wasn’t as ludicrous to you anymore.

after bidding your farewells and ‘nice to meet you’s’ once the training was over, you now found yourself perched on your window side bed nook, lying on your stomach with both feet dangling in the air. the light from your laptop screen illuminating your features, you eagerly scroll through your timeline, grateful for the peaceful downtime.

just when you’ve decided you’ve had your fill of social media, a notification pops up, grabbing your attention. now fuelled with newfound curiosity, you hastily click on the notification and look over the culprit's profile.

@samusamu started following you!

# mew's notes :

IM SO EXCITED TO BE DOING AN SMAU AGAIN YAY!!!

light mode is yn's pov, and dark mode is suna's

akemi is currently travelling abroad with her family

#♡theunexpectedprotagonist #ador3rin #ador3haikyuu!!#suna rintaro #suna x reader #smau #haikyuu smau #hq smau #haikyuu

34 notes · View notes

wrightingdungeon · 3 days

Text

Dear Diary

Evelyn and George, I love them so much.

ANGST! GET YOUR ANGST HERE!

POV Evelyn’s Diary - shes 19/20 RN - WILL HAVE TIME SKIPS - None of this is cannon beside pop pop blowing up - BTW George still blows himself up oop - Imagine getting snips of her Diary not the whole book - Im not sorry for how I end this - fight me

Today is Spring, 8, 1965.

While working in the clinic today, a miner came in, but he wasn't like the other miners. He almost dropped his cap taking it off while trying to introduce himself. His name is George, and he came in for an injury on his hand. The rope he was holding had slipped from his grip, causing a severe rope burn across his palm.

He apologized for tracking coal dust into the clinic, which no miner has ever apologized for before. I don't think their mothers explained how hard it is to get coal dust out of the bed sheets, but it's my job, so I shouldn't complain much. I just hope George will be okay. I told him he should inform his foreman that it's doctor's orders he not work until his hand heals completely.

Today is Spring, 12, 1965

The doctor was out of town today, having a call outside of town. The clinic ran as usual, although I had to tell some people to return tomorrow to see the doctor. Despite a few cases, today was a good day. Mr. George came back, and his hand has healed phenomenally. It still has a bit more healing to do, but it doesn't look like it will leave a bad scar.

I must admit, when I was holding his hand and inspecting his burn, I couldn't help but feel light-headed. George is not a bad-looking man, and his smile is so kind, His miner's cap always tosses his brown hair, and his eyes always have a twinkle in them. I’m afraid I’m a horrid nurse, feeling these things for someone in my care.

Today is Spring, 20, 1965.

George came by the clinic today. His hand looked better, but that wasn't the reason he came. He brought me a bundle of tulips, thanking me for all the care I had given him. I'm looking at them in my window right now, and I can't help but smile. He is such a kind man. I can't quite figure out how he knew what flowers I fancy, but does that matter? They are so beautiful.

I am sad, though, because George's hand has healed fully, and now he has no reason to come to the clinic. I should be happy—he's healed, and I did my job—but my heart aches knowing I won't see his smile or his twinkling eyes again. Like I said, I must be a horrid nurse.

Today is Summer, 4, 1965

I saw George again today. I was at the market shopping for dinner when I reached for a leek, and my hand touched his. His laughter is much more boisterous than his voice, which was a pleasant surprise. It's nice discovering things about him—he is like a book I don't want to put down.

He offered to cook me dinner as a proper thank you for helping him. I should have said no, but I said yes. Now, I'm sitting here, terrified to go to his home. I've never had anyone other than my mother cook for me. My heart is fluttering.

Today is Summer, 13, 1965

I have heard the number thirteen is unlucky, but I believe it to be lucky. This evening, I heard a knock at my door. It was George, dressed nicely with his hair neatly fixed. He handed me flowers and asked me out to a gridball game.

What do I wear? I want to impress George. I haven't been on a date before.

The date went so well! George's team won, and he was so happy. We got sorbet afterward to celebrate, and George took my hand in his as we walked. I really do believe the number thirteen is lucky.

Today is Summer, 28, 1965

It has been two weeks of me and George going steady, and it feels like a dream. When George finishes his shift in the mines, he comes to the clinic and walks me home. He is such a gentleman, nothing like the other miners I have met. Tonight was just magical. As George walked me to the door, I could tell something was off. His hands sweat when he is nervous, and I swear they were dripping.

He looked at me, his face as red as a beet, and asked if he could kiss me. His lips are soft and warm. It's embarrassing to admit, but his mouth does taste like cigarettes. Oh, I think I am in love, and I don't know what to do.

Today is Winter, 20, 1965

I can't believe it… George asked me out again today. He took me to the cliff to watch the sunset. He was sweating again and refused to look at me. When I asked him what was wrong, he just caged up further. I thought he was breaking up with me, but then he grabbed me as I got up to leave. His words fumbled over each other, and he almost fell over as he rushed to his knee.

George proposed to me. He told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and that he couldn't stop thinking about me since he burned his hand with that rope. I'm so excited—I'm going to be George's wife soon. I just wish Mother was still with me so she could see this.

Today is Fall, 14, 1970

I can't sleep. George had an accident today at the mines. It was terrible; they had to rush him to the city. The doctor sent me home, saying I was a wreck. I can't stop crying, picturing him covered in blood and bruises on the operating table. Someone said he dropped dynamite. Please, Yoba, don't take my George. After losing my parents, he's all I have. I can't bear to be alone again. He's my everything—the love of my life. The house feels empty without him. Every corner holds memories of him, and I can't imagine life without him. Yoba, you've always answered my prayers. Please, I was so alone after Mother and Father passed, please don't take him from me as well.

Today is Spring, 2, 1971

They finally allowed George to come home from the hospital, albeit in a wheelchair. But that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that he's home and on the mend. It's a new chapter for both of us, one filled with challenges and uncertainties. Sometimes, George can be a bit rude, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

I made a promise to stand by him no matter what: for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. And I intend to keep that promise. I'll be there for George, caring for him and cherishing our time together, no matter what lies ahead.

Today is Winter, 2, 1976

This is a happy day! Me and George weren't sure I could become pregnant, but I am! We are so excited to see our child. George has been working in the nursery non-stop, making sure he can care for our baby, not allowing that wheelchair to stop him. I have decided on two names: Clara for a daughter and Coy for a son. I don't care what we have; I know they will be perfect.

Today is Summer, 10, 1977

Clara is perfect. With George's rich brown hair and my green eyes, she's a sight to behold. Despite her small stature, her eyes hold the same glimmer of curiosity as her father's. I know she will cause all kinds of trouble as she grows up just like her father.

As I watch George cradle her with such gentleness, his protective gaze never leaving her, and the tears of love that well up in his eyes as he whispers soothing words to her, I'm reminded once again of how blessed I am to have him by my side. In moments like these, it's crystal clear that I've married the most wonderful man.

Today is Summer, 13, 2000

I knew the number thirteen was lucky. Today, our grandson Alex was born. As I held him in my arms, I couldn't help but notice how much he resembled his mother, right down to the tiny button nose that mirrored hers when she was born. George was worried about Clara, complaining that everyone was here to see just Alex and not his baby girl. He has always been such a good father; he will be the best grandfather as well.

Looking at my family as it has grown, I’ve gone from an empty home after my parents passed, to a husband, a daughter, and now a son-in-law and a beautiful grandson. I love my family dearly and can't wait for the years ahead of us.

Fall, 16, 2004 This page is heavily tear stained

We took Alex for the day taking him to the fair as Clara wanted him to experience it. I can't believe we got lucky enough to have Alex… George's scream echoes in my mind… Did he scream with that pain when he was blown up?

We thought the phone call was Clara telling us that they would be late picking up Alex. The phone call shattered our hopes—it was the Zuzu Highway Patrol delivering the tragic news. Clara and her husband are gone… Victims of a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road. They didn't survive.

But we have Alex…. We have to tell our four-year-old grandson he can't go home anymore… He can't see his Mother or Father ever again

Yoba, why didn't you shield them?

44 notes · View notes