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freedomfireflies · 1 month

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Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it.

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine.

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door.

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions.

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence.

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say.

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?”

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over.

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out.

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment.

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh.

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.”

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit.

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one.

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy.

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle.

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment.

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon.

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up.

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow.

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.”

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat.

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further.

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop.

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent.

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot.

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave.

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open.

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months

Text

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off.

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach.

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse.

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that.

But you were so wrong.

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug.

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky...

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath.

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself.

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn.

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing.

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person.

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile.

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk.

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head.

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot.

“Thank you.” You almost whispered.

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo.

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes.

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away.

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness.

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it.

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke?

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session.

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there.

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.”

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you.

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over.

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor.

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected.

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it.

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.”

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop.

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again.

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything.

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes.

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one.

“I can do it myself!”

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged.

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss.

He was good at it.

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself.

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop.

God, he must be big.

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly?

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question.

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs.

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot.

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?”

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.”

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do.

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.”

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died.

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch.

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.”

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips.

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you.

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed.

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time.

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.”

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold.

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong.

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?"

“I do.”

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips.

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs.

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer.

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there.

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing.

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress.

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails.

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time.

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues.

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside.

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life.

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could.

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away.

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder.

You both felt how close you were.

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple.

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you.

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session.

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.”

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

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ohmygraves · 4 months

Text

it started off as a prank.

soap and gaz were fooling around, really. nothing too serious, not expecting much from it. hell, the account was in soap's phone. ghost didn't even know anything about it.

the two created a tinder account for the lieutenant, just to see what kind of people would be so inclined to message a masked man like him.

photos were taken candidly, most of it from soap's own stash (don't ask). something more serious was cropped from group pictures, from either the bar or during a mission. gaz thought of the introduction, with little embellishments to make it more ridiculous. the goal was to see how many would swipe right to the scary, masked lieutenant.

of course, the sergeants were surprised to see so many match notifications, to the point that soap's phone would just erupt with notification sounds, even during briefings. safe to say, the poor scot got in trouble, and ended up turning off the notification for the app.

most of the matches seems to be coming from a place of lust, a lot of requests of one night stands or fuck buddies (what is it with people who liked masked men, the two thought). many seemed very forward and to the point with what they wanted. it was ridiculous trying to scroll through the first messages and reading them one by one.

but then there's you.

you: hello, i feel like i've seen you before. are you staying at the base near (location)?

soap and gaz thought your first message was interesting. it could be that you knew the lieutenant somewhere, or had seen him at least once. you seem to be a real person too, judging from your profile. photos of you indicated as such.

gaz wanted to call it quits, ghosts you just like every other match that they received, but soap wanted to take it a step further, even if gaz was completely against the idea. bickering for a while, soap ended up sending a text, and that's how you started talking to "ghost".

ghost: yeah. do i know you from somewhere?

soap had expected it to be a flirting attempt, though he was surprised to see an actual answer.

you: oh, i think i've seen you a few times outside of the base.

you: i frequent the café nearby ^^

oh, you're so cute and innocent, soap kinda felt bad for lying now.

ghost: i see

ghost: perhaps i'll see you sometime too? ;)

soap got addicted to posing as ghost. the two of you texted back and forth during his break, sometimes even at night. soap stayed up and missed some sleep just for some elaborate joke that kept going and going, and gaz was just tuning into the drama too.

everything was fun at first, not everyday the scot got to roleplay as the lieutenant, especially since the man was such a dry texter. it was funny trying to come up with an awkward reply or even just flat messages when talking to you. you were just so nice and oblivious to it though.

soap nearly lost his marbles when you asked to meet up in the cafe near the base, and asked when it was possible. you knew that soldiers frequently are given a leave, so perhaps "ghost" would love to meet you when he had the time. the scot was sure that he went too far this time, earning "i told you so" look from gaz even when he's clearly also enjoying the shenanigans.

they decided that it's finally time to come clean to the man in question.

ghost, of course, was furious. not only that this was a violation of privacy, soap and gaz had wasted a random person's time because of some elaborate joke that went too far. now they even want to meet with him too.

soap thought that the only way to fix this was just to inform you as well. it was only fair as you're also affected by this. hell, he didn't even know that his "casual" flirting (which was a loose term considering ghost's texting habits that soap adapted for this roleplay) would be enjoyed by someone, even getting the lieutenant a date too. the scot insisted that you two still meet anyway, and that he would be there too to apologize.

ghost, of course, was definitely against it. he had been dragged into this against his will, and it's not like he had the time too. why would he entertain the two sergeants who got him into this mess—

but perhaps just a cup of tea with a beautiful person like you would be nice... perhaps...

reluctantly, ghost agreed to the date, letting soap talk to you to set up a time and place. while looking at your pictures and the past conversations, he didn't seem to mind that he's now on some sort of a blind date...

#this was so long but such an elaborate way to write that you somehow scored a date with ghost because of soap and gaz #perhaps ill write more abt this idea #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty headcanon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #cod headcanon #fake tinder profile au

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bluejutdae · 2 months

Text

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Felix x you

genre: romance, best friend to lovers

warnings: none, except that i am not satisfied at all with this but I’ve read it so many times I’m starting to hate it. I might edit heavily later

The moment you park outside the restaurant Lixie is in, you press the call button. Faking an emergency is not too hard, you talk about a friend getting injured and at the hospital, exaggerating your tone and almost making Felix laugh.

He’s out in less than five minutes. Under his bright smile there’s something you can’t decipher. He gets in your car and just his presence makes you happy. Everyone loves Felix, and you’re not immune to his charm either. He’s always kind, generous, sweet and funny. You’re really lucky to have him in your life.

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.” It’s so funny to hear his deep voice in such a childish tone.

You don’t press for answers about his date during the drive to your favorite ice cream place, you put on some music and sing loudly with him. Save for that indecipherable look in his eyes, he seems pretty normal.

You take your ice creams and decide to take a walk on the riverside. The wind is pretty chill, but neither of you mind too much. It’s him who brings up the date he was on.

“The date… it was like a blind date. But I didn’t know it was a date until it was too late.”

“Uh- what?” It doesn’t make sense: how did he manage to go on a date without knowing?

“Hannie.” Yeah, maybe it makes sense. Jisung means well, but most of the time the execution is, at best, messy.

“How did he get you?”

“He begged me to go on a double date on the premise it was just because this girl he wanted to go out with was wary of going out alone with him so she’d bring a friend with, but we were supposed to be just wingmen. Or so he told me.”

He licks his ice cream and shakes his head.

“About 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet he called and told me it was a lie and it was a blind date…”

You’re not sure as to what to say. It is very on brand for Jisung, but you can also understand how frustrating it can be for Felix. He’s a sweetheart, he must have felt guilty for having unwillingly misled the girl.

“I couldn’t just leave and stand her up. She knew nothing about the lie, so it wasn't her fault.”

“Was she nice, at least?”

He nods, but he seems almost distracted. “She was nice. Pretty and funny, to be honest.”

“Why didn’t you stay, then?”

He slows down to a stop, and the moment you notice you turn around to look at him, a question on your face. He cleans his mouth with the small napkin and exhales with a small grimace.

“Lix?”

“Because I like you. And I’m not interested in other girls.”

He likes you. Felix likes you. And not in a friendly way. In a like like way. You weren’t expecting that.

“I-“ you start, but you don’t know how to continue that sentence. What do you say to your best friend who just said he likes you? Do you even like him? You’ve always been pretty good at keeping your feelings in check, so after knowing him, when it was clear you were headed towards just being friends, that’s what you set your mind -and your heart- to. He’s your friend, and you didn’t even ever consider more.

“I’m sorry. I’ve kept it from you for a while but I couldn’t anymore. That’s why Jisung insisted on this date. He was trying to distract me.” He turns slightly to watch at the river flowing fast but quietly. “Things don't have to change. If you don’t feel the same it’s okay, but I’d like to stay friends if you’re okay with that. I don’t wanna lose you.”

The idea of Felix losing you is ridiculous to you, nothing is ever gonna make you distance yourself from him. You try to tell him so by hugging him. “Lixie, we’ll always be friends, no matter what.”

You speak into his jacket, and maybe it’s easier this way.

“I thought we were only meant to be friends, so I didn’t even consider looking at you in a different way.” You can feel him tense under your hug. “Wait, wait, listen to me please.” Still hugging him you try to look at him, a smile on your lips. He’s your best friend, he’s the best person you’ve ever met. Being liked by him is an honor, and if you think about it, trying to be something more it’s not something that you hate.

“You’re my best friend, Lix. You know I love you, and I think you’re perfect. I never let myself think about you like that, but I know that if I give it a chance, it’d be so easy to fall in love with you romantically.”

“You don’t have to make yourself like me.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d be lucky to love you. Give me a chance?”

He’s smiling now, and he’s so so pretty like this. He’s always pretty, you tell him constantly, but when he smiles it’s his best look.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure Lixie. Let me take you out on a date? I promise to spoil you…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?”

“It’s okay. You can ask next time.” You kiss him on his cheek and hold his hand, making him resume your stroll.

He really is easy to love, and not even a month later you ask yourself how you ever managed not to be head over heels in love with your best friend boyfriend.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #felix x you #felix x reader #felix x female reader #felix fluff #felix fanfic #felix imagines #felix scenarios #Thiana writes Felix

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jgracie · 16 days

Text

GRAPEJUICE — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF DIONYSUS

masterlist | rules

❝ Hii, do you think you could write a Percy x daughter of Dionysus reader headcannons? Where reader is close with her dad and is an all-year camper ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of dionysus

pairing percy jackson x dionysus!reader

warnings you have a bad relationship w ur mortal parent sorry (briefly mentioned)

on the radio . . . grapejuice (harry styles)

an in pollux we trust 🫡 also beckengard are alive in this (the crowd cheers 🥳), they have phones

Since you’re Dionysus’ favourite daughter, it was only natural you and Percy would meet at a party

You’d heard a lot about the boy from the amount of complaining your father would do. Whenever Dionysus entered his children’s cabin in a bad mood, you knew he was about to yap about the bane of his existence, Perry Jameson

You, however, had nothing against Percy. You’d spoken to each other a few times and from what you could gather, he was really friendly, just awfully sarcastic

You wanted to get to know him more, though. You couldn’t help it, you were curious. And he’s really hot, especially when he’s on lifeguard duty at the beach and when he’s helping the younger kids train

So when your half-brother Pollux pitches the idea of throwing a party, simply because life was getting pretty dry at the time, you made sure Percy was the first on the list of invitees. This had earned you a teasing glance from Pollux, but you brushed it off. You didn’t like Percy, he was just super cute and nice so you wanted to be his friend, duh!

However, unbeknownst to you, the gears in your brother’s head were turning. He knew Percy at least thought you were really pretty (as he should), since he’d overheard one of his friends talking about it a while back. He also knew you thought Percy’s really handsome. Finally, he is his father’s son, which means he loves nothing more than to have a little fun

Pollux saved Percy’s invite for last. He made his way over to Poseidon’s cabin, a grin on his face as he knocked on the door

“Hey Pollux, is everything okay?” Percy asked, drying his wet hair as he looked down at the boy, who simply handed him an envelope sealed shut with burgundy wax in the shape of a cluster of grapes

Confused, Percy opened it, reading through the card, which was designed by you. While Percy was distracted, Pollux pulled his ultimate move, “y’know, Y/N requested for me to invite you herself. I don’t know why, but you must be pretty important to her!”

His words had their desired result. You see, Pollux decided to use the element of surprise to his advantage - so he could see Percy’s unveiled reactions and, from there, be able to confirm his feelings about you

Immediately, Percy’s head shot up, his face turning a bright shade of pink as he said, “I’ll be there! 11PM, right?”

“Yep! I’ll tell Y/N you’re coming, she’ll be so delighted! You should try speaking to her alone at the party, I think she wants to tell you something.”

Gods, he was such a genius

For the rest of the day, you noticed your brother was acting awfully strange. When confronted, he simply started talking about how excited he was for this party and how he thinks it’ll be the best one yet

So you brushed his behaviour off. You weren’t going to shame him for that, especially because you were excited too. You loved a good party, but this would be the first time Percy attended one

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you decorated your cabin, really hoping he’d like it. Okay, maybe you lied about not liking Percy like that. Truth is, you’d been harbouring a crush on him for a couple months now, the only thing stopping you from doing anything about it being your father

It wasn’t even because he’s a literal God. You genuinely love and have a lot of respect for the guy. Sure, he tended to be a little grumpy and rude with other kids at camp, but he was the best parent you could ask for

Your mortal parent wasn’t the nicest, so after two years of only spending the summer at camp, you began staying year-round, not wanting to deal with them anymore. It was hard at first, especially because they hadn’t cared to wonder where you were, but your father was there for you through it all

He’d had a soft spot for you ever since you were a baby, and was absolutely crushed when Zeus told him to keep his distance or else he’d regret it. When you showed up at camp all those years later, Dionysus felt complete. His sweet girl came back to him

Of course, he wouldn’t voice those thoughts, but you knew how he felt

He loved you so much, how could you go and date the one demigod he couldn’t stand?

Still, the heart wants what it wants, and you couldn't help but feel yourself gravitate towards Percy whenever he happened to be around

Soon enough, it was night time and while your father and Chiron were asleep in the big house, demigods from all cabins snuck out to attend your party.

Thanks to the Hecate kids, there was a sound muffling charm on your cabin, preventing anyone from hearing the loud music and other happenstances of the party

Every time you greeted someone, you prayed the next would be Percy. Pollux said he was coming, and while your brother liked to have fun, he wasn’t one to lie. Did Percy change his mind? Did he think your cabin was the lamest of the lame and therefore unworthy of his presence?

While you spiralled from inside your cabin, Percy spiralled from outside it (power couple in the making). He tried very hard to look handsome but at the same time like he didn’t put that much effort into his appearance, despite having spent hours picking out the right outfit and ruffling his hair just right

Just as he was about to knock on your cabin door, you burst out of it, bumping right into him

“I’m sorry, party’s ins–” you mumbled, the words dying in your throat once you noticed who you bumped into, “oh… hi Percy!” You greeted the boy, flattening your clothes and hoping you didn’t look awful (you looked MAJESTIC trust)

At the mere sight of you, Percy felt his ears turn red and struggled to get his words out, but in the end managed to say, “hi Y/N, what’re you doing out here?”

You sighed and sat on the steps leading up to cabin 12, and Percy sat next to you, giving you a tender smile. Smiling back, you said, “I just needed a little bit of air. More people showed up than I thought would,” that was true - you didn’t expect that many people to leave their cabins past curfew, but you didn’t care about that. However, you weren’t about to tell Percy you left the party because you were a little disappointed he didn’t show up

“Well, you guys do throw the best parties. Sometimes I can’t believe Mr D has this side hidden somewhere in him too,” Percy said, looking up at the night sky with you. Then, after a moment of silence passed between you, “your brother said you wanted to talk to me?”

Your head shot down at this, surprised, “he did?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you should’ve expected this from Pollux

“Yeah… he said you invited me personally, and that there’s something you wanted to tell me?” He asked, his voice going up an octave around the end when he realised you had no idea what he was talking about, making his statement sound more like a question

You couldn’t hate your brother for this. You knew he had good intentions, and in the end, you did get some alone time with Percy, so it wasn’t too bad

Your eyes darted all over the place as you said, “oh! Well, I just think you’re really cool and kinda really want to be your friend. I know dad doesn’t like you that much, but I don’t share his opinion.”

After that, the tension between the two of you ebbed away, and a beautiful friendship began

To say your father was disappointed in your choice of company was an understatement. When he saw you and Percy together for the first time, he spoke to you as soon as he got the chance, ranting about how ‘Pierre Johnson’ is a no-good loser and how you should have higher standards

However, he tolerated it once he realised you weren’t going to stop being friends with Percy. He loved you more than he hated Percy, and besides, it's not like you were dating him, right?

Unfortunately, you really wished you were. Before befriending Percy, your crush on him was just because you thought he was nice and cute, you weren’t fully in love with him just yet

But now you knew more, like how he always slept with four pillows (two on each side, one under his head, one to hug) or how he had a small tattoo of a trident on his left ankle (which his mom lost her mind over when he showed her) or how contrary to popular belief amongst other people at camp, he hated the Little Mermaid (it was too unrealistic, especially in its depiction of his half-brother Triton)

You were absolutely infatuated with him

Percy really liked you too. Every day he spent with you made him feel as if he were on cloud nine, but he wanted more than games of Uno (Pollux would join because you need 3 people and also because he’s waiting for the day you let go of the cards and just kiss already) and late afternoon swims. He wanted to be able to hold your hand in public, declaring his love for you to the world

Honestly, you both could tell you felt the same about each other. You also could tell you had the exact same reason for not doing anything about said feelings - Dionysus

You considered yourselves grateful he didn’t send Percy straight to Tartarus just for being your friend, and knew that eventually becoming best friends was pushing it. Dating definitely wouldn’t slide

It wasn’t until Percy was hanging out with a certain friend of his from the Hermes cabin that he realised he didn’t care what your father decreed

Sighing, Percy lay on his old bed in the Hermes cabin, Travis Stoll sitting on the bed across him. After spending his first couple days at camp in cabin 11, Percy quickly befriended the Stoll brothers, who were always hospitable towards him back when he was new

Even after he moved out of the Hermes cabin, they remained friends, Travis and Connor telling Percy he could stay at their cabin again whenever he needed

“Look, I get it, Mr D’s super scary, but you’re also super in love with Y/N, which I think outweighs his scariness,” Travis told a moping Percy. You see, earlier that day, some guy from the Apollo cabin had come up to the two of you with the intention of taking you out on a date. Luckily, you politely declined, but he was just one of many potential suitors

What if eventually you found the perfect guy? One not only that you’d love, but that Dionysus would approve of?

The thought of that alone was what brought Percy to cabin 11, humbly asking Travis for some advice

“It does! But she wouldn’t wanna disappoint her dad, and I wouldn’t want her to lose him over me, y’know? Her relationship with her mortal parent’s already not the best, she can’t lose her immortal one too.”

The two sat in silence as Travis played with the whiteboard marker in his hand, which he was using to write a pros and cons list of Percy asking you out. He added ‘Mr D might hate her’ to the cons side, making the two equal

Just as they were about to continue their discussion, Travis’ girlfriend Katie walked in, a basket of freshly picked apples in her hand

“Trav, you’ve got to try these!” She exclaimed, her eyes glittering as she gave Travis an apple. The boy bit into it, his eyes widening in excitement once he realised what his girlfriend had done

“Oh my Gods Katie you did it!” He said once he’d finished chewing, littering her face with kisses, which made flowers bloom in her auburn hair. Percy simply sat in confusion, considering leaving and continuing this another day

Just as he was about to get up, Travis said something which stopped him. With Katie on his lap, he said, “see, Percy? There’s no way I could let Demeter stop me from dating my sweet girl.” (clawing at the bars of my enclosure as I write this)

Travis was right. No punishment Dionysus could possibly think of would make dating you not worth it

While Percy was with Travis, you were with the cabin counsellors of cabins 9 and 10, iconic couple Charlie Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard

Silena has been a very good friend of yours for years, seeing as she was the one who was there for you the most when you first came to camp, treating you like a little sister

So, naturally, when you have an issue in the love department, you go to her. This was one of those times

Being asked out by that Apollo kid made you realise something very important - you’d never fall for anyone the way you fell for Percy. Even a God would pale in comparison to his beauty and charm

That left you with two options: date Percy (and suffer your father’s wrath in the process) or live the rest of your life knowing he felt the same but doing nothing about it, simply settling for some other guy

You decided to settle this once and for all. You had to make a choice, and it would be right here, with Silena and Charlie

“I mean… you seem to really love Percy, babe. You don’t even have to say anything, I can tell,” Silena told you, running her fingers through her hair and giving you a kind smile

“He really likes you too,” Charlie piped in, “tells me about it all the time. Please date him, I’ve gotten sick of hearing about your twinkling eyes and magnetic aura.” His girlfriend laughed at this, leaning her head on his shoulder

You knew they were right. There was no way you could live the rest of your life with Percy being just your friend. But were you willing to lose your dad in the process?

Noticing the serious look on your face, Silena got up and came to sit next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, “this is really hard, Y/N, trust me, we get it. When I was the first not to complete the rite of passage, I was really scared mom would punish me in one way or another - but she didn’t, and we’re happy now. The Gods rarely ever show it, but deep down, they do love their kids. We can all see how Mr D loves you, he’ll be able to deal with Percy as his son-in-law for your sake.”

You couldn’t believe you didn’t realise it sooner. Your father loves you. Why would he make your life miserable over dating Percy?

Thanking the couple, you ran to cabin 3, knowing what you had to do

Meanwhile, Percy was heading to your cabin. He would’ve missed you sitting at the steps of his if you hadn’t yelled his name, your hair all over the place as you ran towards him

“Percy I have to–”

“Y/N there��s something you should–”

The two of you spoke at the same time. Looking into each other’s eyes, you knew you were thinking the same thing. Immediately, Percy pulled you into his cabin, not waiting for a second before slamming his lips onto yours

And that’s how you began dating. Well, secretly. Only Travis and Katie, Silena and Charlie and Pollux knew about your relationship. You two were still too nervous to break it to your dad, and the others were all sworn to secrecy

Even though you couldn’t be too affectionate in front of others, being in a relationship with Percy was the best thing you ever experienced. He was so sweet and doting, always keeping an eye on you public and being physically incapable of letting go of you in private

Out of everyone who knew, your brother was the most excited about your relationship, always yapping about how if it weren’t for him you two wouldn’t even have become friends, let alone lovers

He was also the one to bring your little secret to an end

You see, Dionysus liked to check on his kids often. If it were up to him, you’d be living in the big house with him, but the other Gods saw that as unfair, so you were stuck in cabin 12

After being gone on Godly duties for a week, he’d come back to camp with you at the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t help but have a feeling you were hiding something important from him. He was sure it wasn’t anything, since you’re his pride and joy, but he decided to check anyway

When the door to his cabin opened, Dionysus was greeted by none other than his son, Pollux, who was very happy to see him. They sat and made small talk for a little bit - mostly about school and other mortal things Dionysus couldn’t keep up with - before he asked about your whereabouts

“Y/N? Oh, she’s in her room!” Pollux said, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth once he realised what he said. Yes, you were in your bedroom, but you weren’t alone. Percy also happened to be in your bedroom, and Pollux knew all too well what you and Percy liked to do in your bedroom (SAFE FOR WORK THINGS ONLY!!!!!)

He was about to take it all back, but it was too late. Immediately, Dionysus teleported into your room, where you were making out with Percy

By the time Pollux had gotten there, Percy was glued to the wall by a bunch of vines that were sprouting from the ground

“Let him go, dad!” You yelled, tears welling in your eyes as you clawed at said vines, “I’m sorry, I’ll break up with him if you want me to, just please don’t hurt him!” When Dionysus saw the pain in your eyes, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. Taking a deep breath, he released Percy from the vines

Dionysus watched as you hugged Percy tightly, sobbing into his chest. His heart ached as he thought about your words: you’d break with him if he wanted you to. He never wanted his daughter to feel like she couldn’t love who she wanted because of him

“I’m… sorry, Y/N. I acted rashly,” he began, hesitant as he wiped the tears off of your face, “I don’t want you to love someone just to please me, I want you to love someone you love, and if that happens to be Pietro… then so be it.”

Ok now this is fr the longest backstory I’ve ever written sorry ab that

You guys dethrone Beckengard sorry… Y/N and Percy new CHB iconic couple

Percy loves dating you because you never fail to be fun and interesting!! His cabin used to be so boring and lonely but it erupts with life now that you stay there half the time

Dionysus tries to get to know Percy. He’s the bane of his existence but he’s also his precious girl’s boyfriend so he has to learn more about him. Percy walks into his cabin one day to find a cluster of red grapes and a cluster of green grapes sitting on his bed with a note that says “which do you like more?”

Secretly though Dionysus LOVES Percy. He’s your #1 fan and won’t hesitate to defend you against anyone who dares to utter an insult about you

Sally loves you so much too. She adopts you immediately and showers you with affection whenever she can. She also gives Percy gifts to give you whenever he goes back to camp LOL

Percy walks in with four suitcases and you’re like “why did you pack so much you know you can keep some clothes with me if you want” and he goes “no actually these three are for you from mom”

He’s surprisingly good at planning parties. Always thinks of the most creative themes and the cutest colour schemes!!!

You feel a little insulted because how is a son of Poseidon almost better than you at your own thing ?!?! But it’s okay because you love him :)

As a child of Dionysus, you are also a theatre kid, so naturally you make Percy watch all your favourite musicals

He didn’t care for Hamilton before but he watched it once with you and now you hear him belting Non-stop in the shower

You guys always recreate the “Alexander? “Aaron Burr, sir” part from that song 😭 and tons of other cute scenes from other musicals (I’m not a huge musical girlie sorry)

Percy’s so dedicated to getting them all right!!! You’re always re-filming parts because they aren’t good enough (his voice cracked a little at one point)

He chooses romantic scenes to recreate on purpose thinking he’s being slick but you’re not an idiot LOL

Also yes Pollux is the cameraman

OMG you totally do the part in Take a Break with Phillip’s poem with Pollux as Phillip

(All these videos get saved for your future kids by the way in case you were wondering)

Speaking of your brother dearest, he and Percy get along SO well. A little too well for your liking. They’re always ganging up on you when you play Uno or Just Dance or something like that

Pollux is obsessed with Percy. He loves you, but he’s always wanted an older male figure to look up to and that’s Percy to him!! They always have bro days together or whatever <3

One time you walked into Percy’s cabin only to find them asleep together on the couch and it was the cutest thing ever. You immediately took a picture, sending it to Sally and Dionysus (please don’t ask me to elaborate on how or why Dionysus has a phone) and then setting it as your phone wallpaper

Also Percy loves saying corny stuff like “you make me drunk in love” and other alcohol-based pickup lines just because of who your dad is LOL

You can’t even cringe because your love for him is so strong it cancelled out cringe culture (as it should!)

Overall you are all one big happy family and it’s the cutest thing EVER. The Aphrodite cabin are always making edits of the two of you because somehow they have pictures and videos from when you were still just pining?!?

You guys watch them late at night and laugh until you come across an angsty one with the “from strangers to friends… friends into lovers… and strangers again” audio and all of a sudden you’re crying and swearing on the river Styx to never break up

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcanons #percy jackson x dionysus reader #percy jackson x daughter of dionysus #dionysus pjo #children of dionysus #cynwrites

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uncsukuna · 1 month

Text

jjk men & you: nail appointment!

tldr: gojo, geto, nanami, ino, choso, toji, sukuna + mahito going with you to your nail appointment.

cw: fem!reader. sukuna refers to reader as ‘woman’ once. and mahito.

a/n: this was fun lowk. might do it for jjk boys, depends on my motivation. idk if mahito particularly counts as a man, but he’s here for my mootie. time to sleep now, enjoy!!!

✿ — gojo:

first things first, he’s paying for your nails. which sounds like a good thing, until you realize he’s insisting on going along with you. he’ll pester you the entire time, suggesting colors and styles (how does he know so much?!) and then doing anything to get you to laugh or look at him. sometimes it results in your nail tech getting a little lot frustrated because he keeps making you squirm. eventually, tho, he’ll stop and let the tech finish up your nails.

“they’re cute. would’ve been cuter if you let me pick, buuuut... still cute.”

✿ — ino:

he’ll flex his knowledge about nails like it’s something revolutionary or suggest a style that he swears is completely unique, only for you to correct him and realize that it’s really just basic information. he’ll spend the rest of the appointment scrolling through pinterest and instagram, trying to find inspo for your next set.

“ooh, baby, look. these are nice, right?”

✿ — nanami:

only pays if you want him to, and only goes if you want him to. is content to let you pick whatever style you want, but likes to pick out bold colors and suggest designs based on your interests or adding charms. always tips the tech, and once your nails are done, he gently grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.

“these suit you perfectly, my lady.”

✿ — geto:

at first, he is nawt going in there. unless you find a sorcerer nail tech, he’s going to be slick the entire time. he’ll side-eye everyone else getting their nails done, judge their taste (“why would she choose that shit-brown?”), and stand up the entire time. he doesn’t want the germs. once you’re done, he’s pulling you out of there as quickly as possible.

“here, take this. ... yes, it’s hand sanitizer. you don’t want those monkey germs, right?”

✿ — toji:

only goes because you told him if he tagged along, you’d pay. in reality, he was going to go all along, just to make sure nobody tries anything. he will slap the shit outta somebody, including your nail tech. sits in a tiny chair by your side, massive head resting on your shoulder and arms crossed, absolutely knocked out. he’ll only wake up if you shrug your shoulder or if the appointment ends (he has some kind of sixth sense for that shit).

“huh? ... nah, i ain’t sleep. you cute, now c’mon.”

✿ — choso:

kind of like gojo, clingy asf. he won’t make suggestions (bro has no idea, pls bear w/ him), but he’ll praise any and every decision you make. his arms will be wrapped around your waist the entire time, earning him lots of ‘awhss’ and ‘look at them! so cute.’ tips the nail tech for “making you extra gorgeous.” his words, not mine.

“you look good, i swear. i like the colors, and the shape, and the design, and your hands...”

✿ — sukuna:

has a personal nail tech. you think he maintains them black nails by himself? no. threatens his nail tech to do good on your nails, otherwise it’ll be the last set they ever do. makes minor suggestions, but is content to sit back and let you decide for yourself. he does have a preference color, though, either black, red, or dark purple. gets a weird urge to nibble your fingers once your nails are done. please don’t ask why.

“hm? you look fine, woman. nothing rivals your natural beauty, so quit ya whining.”

✿ — higuruma:

he’s awake for the entire prep process. watching you pick your colors, decide on a design, get settled in the chair. the second the nail tech actually gets to work, though, he’s tapped out. just like toji, he’s sitting in a chair beside you, head either resting in your lap or on your shoulder. if he could sit across from you, his head would be on your chest. only wakes up when it’s time to pay (he tips!) or if something goes wrong.

“... mm? oh, those are nice, sunshine. i like the little designs, very cute.”

✿ — mahito ..?:

a lil shit the entire time istg. doesn’t care what you pick, will poke and squish and pinch and nuzzle you the whole process, annoying both you and the tech. considers getting his done to match yours, but realizes he could probably just morph the shape of his soul instead of sitting there.

“those are, like, so cute! ... no? you don’t like my valley girl accent?”

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italiansteebie · 1 year

Text

Somehow, Steve is behind on every pop culture reference of this century, even with all the children he babysits.

That's why when Eddie Munson walks into the coffee shop he works at, he has no idea who he is and why he’s whispering. He almost wants to yell at him to speak up, but the way the guy is pulling his hat down over his face, sunglasses planted firmly on his nose, Steve can’t help but to wonder if he’s okay. If maybe he’s trying to avoid someone.

So before he can order, Steve leans in asking softly, “Hey are you okay? Is it someone in the shop you’re hiding from? Because I can kick them out.” His protective streak apparently extends beyond his kids. The guy seems to brighten at this, “I'm okay, honest. Just trying to stay out of the spotlight.” There’s something in his tone of voice that is more serious than it should be, but Steve continues on with the transaction.

It’s pretty dead in the shop, so Steve decides to strike up a conversation. “You new in town?”

“I- What?”

“Oh sorry. I just- usually only regulars come in on Sundays. I was just wondering if you've moved here recently or if… I don’t know, you're visiting or something?” Steve finishes awkwardly. And the guy lets out the most angelic laugh, Steve thinks he’s in love.

“I’m just visiting.”

Steve gets the feeling this guy doesn’t want to talk, so he moves to finish his drink. Handing it to him with a “Well, I’m here if you need someone to show you around!” and a smile, with his instagram handle written in bold, black ink on the side. The beautiful guy smiles at him, more genuine than it had been before, and turns to walk away.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

Beautiful man arches his eyebrow again, and shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Eddie.”

And with that he leaves, and Steve is left starstruck for the rest of the day.

It’s not long before Steve sees Eddie again, in fact he’s there the next morning. Waiting by the counter with his hat and sunglasses planted on. Steve wonders if maybe they’d been glued to his face in some sort of prank. Seems unlikely though.

Eddie approaches the counter, and before he can order Steve leans in, “I was serious yesterday, if there’s someone around here bothering you let me know. It just- seems like you’re uncomfortable or something.” And that beautiful smile graces Eddie’s lips again.

“I’m okay, really. It’s just. A lot of people know me and I don’t… I just want a normal morning at a coffee shop, y‘know?” Steve shrugs, “I can’t say I do, but If you want to talk I’m all ears. Well- Not now of course,” He laughs, “I'm on the clock, but I get out at noon?” He suggests. And who can blame him, there's a beautiful man right in front of him and he’s only human. Of course he’s going to flirt.

It seems to work too because Eddie agrees and shortly after there's a phone number written on his arm, with weirdly strict instructions to not share it with any one.

—

It’s noon, and Steve’s expecting to pull up to a house, but the GPS leads him to a rather nice hotel. One more expensive than he could afford even for one night. He spots Eddie waiting in the lobby, waving at him, signature hat and glasses still on.

“Hey, I decided to meet you down here. I don’t think they’d let you up without me.”

And Steve just smiles and nods, happy to be hanging out with Eddie outside of a place of business.

Once they reach Eddie’s room, Steve trails in slowly behind him, almost in before there's a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him back. He flinches, as a deep voice loudly says “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I- Uh. I was, uhm, going to see Eddie?” He finishes voice pitching up at the end like its a question, biting his lip willing the anxious tears that sprouted not to fall. The guy glares at him, “I don’t think so-” But he’s cut off by Eddie, “Woah, Gareth. It’s okay, he’s with me.” And that seems to calm ‘Gareth’ down, and Steve’s shoulders slump in relief. “I didn’t um. I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” He says, cheeks going red. Eddie waves his hand, “Don’t worry about it, Stevie.” And for a second Steve wonders how he knows his name before realizing he’s been wearing a name tag in every one of their interactions.

“He’s harmless, I promise.” Eddie assures ‘Gareth’ again.

And with that he leaves them alone. They talk for hours, and the time flies by, and Eddie invites him to dinner with him and his friends. He agrees easily, from what Eddie has told him, they all seem pretty cool, although he finds it a bit odd that they all share the uniform of sunglasses and hats.

At dinner, he can hear the subtle clicks of cameras and whispers, and he quietly wonders if there’s some type of celebrity around. Eddie and his friends laugh, but Steve seems to have missed the joke.

Overall it was a great night, ending with him and Eddie leaving hand and hand, sharing a soft kiss as Eddie walks him to his car parked in the hotel lot.

Once safely alone in his car, he squeals like a teenage girl, kicking his feet, twirling his hair, the whole nine yards. He goes to call Robin but in some odd coincidence, she’s already calling him.

“STEVE WHAT THE FUCK.” She’s shouting before he can even speak.

“Robs! I was just about to call you! I had the most amazing date,” He gushes, conveniently leaving out the part where he admits that his date's friends were with them.

“Yeah, I know, Steve. It’s ALL OVER TWITTER.” And she’s screaming again, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear.

“What do you mean? It was just a date, I wasn’t with anyone else!”

“You were with EDDIE MUNSON.”

“Yeah I kn- How do you know the name of my date?”

“Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve.” She sighs.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you met Gareth AND Eddie AND Jeff and Keith! The only four men I would ever let inside me!” Steve cringes at that, “Robs. Never say that to me again. And what is going on? Did- Did you follow me to my date again?” He can hear her exasperated groan from the other side of town, no phone needed.

“Steve. Listen to me. Do you know the band Corroded Coffin?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, kind of. Dustin talks about them sometimes.” he doesn't know what this has to do with the beautiful man he just went out with.

“Okay. So here’s the deal. You have gone on a date, and smooched, SMOOCHED, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin.”

“I- What?”

“You kissed the lead guitarist of a very popular band.”

“Oh.”

“YEAH, OH, DINGUS.”

His phone chimes and he pulls it away from his ear to check the notification.

‘eddiemunson_CC just followed you.’

Another one follows immediately after that.

‘eddiemunson_CC sent you a message’

“Oop- He’s texting me, hold on.”

“Put me on speaker!”

“Oh, he has a blue check mark next to his instagram name thingy, that's cool!”

“Steve, oh my god, what did he say?”

Steve looks at the message, ‘I was trying to avoid the paps. Sorry, Stevie, they caught us.’ He responds quickly with an ‘It’s okay Eddie! I had a great time tonight!’ He narrates this all to Robin who is responding quite enthusiastically. “We can be famous by association, Steve!” She says in a “duh” tone of voice.” Steve rolls his eyes, “I think I’d rather just date him.”

He ends the call with Robin shortly after that and proceeds to text Eddie, punching in the faded sharpie written number on his forearm, Instagram DM’s weren’t very private according to Eddie, easily hacked or something like that. They text back and forth for a while, arranging a proper date in Eddie’s hotel room where they don’t have to be so discrete.

Eddie’s back in the coffee shop the next morning, uniform intact, basically loitering until Steve is done with his shift. They head back to the hotel room, blatantly ignoring the photos that are being taken of them. Back in Eddie’s room, Steve hears Corroded Coffins music for the first time, it's good. No wonder they’re so famous. Steve shares that sentiment and much to his chagrin, Eddie teases him relentlessly about it.

The internet knows of Eddie's new beau, and by extension, so does Dustin, who yells at Steve for not mentioning it sooner.

And if Corroded Coffin’s next album has more love songs than the others combined, well. We all know why.

inspired by @steddiealltheway's rockstar Eddie and clueless Steve fic!

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #rockstar Eddie munson #barista Steve Harrington #meet cute #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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purinfelix · 5 months

Note

loved the recent trent fic!! you write so well 🤩 would love more trent works w any trope or theme! take this as a formal request :)

oblivious ✮⋆˙

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: trent's attempts at making moves on the new media intern keep failing, and he has no idea why, until he enlists his teammates help warnings: none - just two idiots and miscommunication w/c: 2.7k

a/n: thank u sm for the req anon!! hope u enjoy this <33 i feel like i say this with half the stuff i write but istg i did not expect this being this long ... i just love trent sm writing for him seems so easy 😭

Trent felt like he was losing his mind, and it was all your fault.

Of course, he wouldn’t dare say that to your face, because in reality it wasn’t really your fault - he just wanted something else other than the possibility of you not liking him back to blame for why none of his moves seemed to be getting through to you.

It wasn’t your fault that you had shown up for your first day as a media intern, lanyard pass hanging from your neck, in an outfit so cute he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him when you introduced yourself. It wasn’t your fault either that his hand had trembled when he stretched it out to shake yours. And it definitely wasn’t your fault that, on this first day alone, he had missed 7 whole passes just because his eyes seemed to keep drifting to where you were watching from the sidelines.

He couldn’t blame any of these things, nor the flurry of butterflies that rendered him speechless everytime he caught eye of you, on any fault of your own. But surely, after almost two weeks of unsuccessful attempts to garner your affection, there had to be something other than his own incompetence at play.

First, there had been the training session a couple of days after your first, where he had finally worked up the courage to ask you for your number. Wiping his clammy palms on the back of his shorts, he had tried his best to walk up to you in as casual a way as possible - the last thing he wanted to do was creep you out before you even got to know each other. You had been in the middle of packing away some of the camera equipment you were borrowing, to which he offered to help. An offer you gratefully took up with a smile so charming he had to hold back from telling you he’d do anything you asked him right there and then.

“Hey, you know, I was sort of wondering if,” he sucked in a quick breath of air to calm his nerves, and stop himself from rambling like an idiot, “if I could get your number? You know, in case you wanted to know your way around or if I have any questions about the media plans?”

He attempted to flash his signature smile in order to conceal how nervous he was, and also how horrible both his excuses for needing your number were. Somehow he had decided it would be better to frame it as a casual, business-related request, to minimise the chances of rejection. But it seemed this wouldn’t be enough.

“Oh, well I’ve already been shown around already and if you have any questions you can always contact the main media department! Here, I’ll jot down their number and email for you.” You shot him a warm smile as you bent down to pull a pen and notepad out of your back pocket, whilst Trent just stood there, frozen.

Sure he had left practice with a number but it wasn’t your number, and almost immediately he started coming up with a list of reasons why. Maybe you were trying to be nice, or thought he actually needed help. Maybe he had come on too strongly and scared you off, or perhaps you were already in a relationship. Or maybe, just maybe, you really were uninterested in him and were trying your best to let him down gently. The last was the most painful to accept, but somehow it was the one his mind kept circling back to.

Then, a couple days later, he had somehow managed to rebuild his confidence enough to decide to try to get to know you gradually, naturally, through conversation. Which was what he was attempting to do the entire time the team had been setting up for a photoshoot showing off the new kit with the help of the media crew, and of course, yourself.

But once again, it seemed like luck was not on his side, because every time he tried to talk to you he would get swept away for a makeup check or outfit change or to be asked for his opinion on the damn lighting. All of this he could really care less about, but knowing you were watching on forced a smile on his face as he tried his best to get through all these tedious formalities as quickly as possible, so that he could get to you.

Before he could though, he found himself sat in front of a camera, next to Dominik, trying his best to maintain his composure as he watched you fiddle around behind it. You were trying your best to be helpful, picking things up off the ground and rushing here and there trying not to geek out over actuall getting to witness a photoshoot in real time. It was almost too endearing for Trent to watch, evidenced by the almost goofy looking smile plastered across his face.

“Yes, exactly like that Trent!” he heard the photographer call out, followed by a blinding flash of white light as he took his picture. You looked up at this of course, scurrying over to where he was, and Trent could almost hear his heart beat rising just knowing your eyes were on him. That was all he needed for another swell of confidence to hit him.

“How do I look?” he called out, making sure to look directly at you so that his intentions couldn’t be misconstrued again. This seemed to catch you off guard though, as he watched your eyes shoot open in surprise, stuttering a little before he heard your response.

“You look really good,” you said, and Trent’s smile only grew wider. That was of course, until you continued, “I think the new kit looks great on you guys!” Of course.

From beside him he felt Dominik nudge his side, already sensing his teasing intensions. “Yeah, she said ‘you guys’ so don’t get too cocky now,” his teammate laughed, and Trent only shrugged off his mocking. Instead, he was more focused on you and how earnestly your tone had been that he couldn’t even find it in him to get frustrated with you for not taking his hints. That’s all he seemed to be able to do though, watch you, in the least creepy way possible - an awkward, slightly confused, smile on your face, clearly not understanding what his teammate had said.

And this sort of scenario would only repeat numerous times over the next two weeks - Trent trying his absolute hardest to drop the most obvious hints at your feet only for you to look at them with that adorable gaze and walk off without entertaining them. He had lost count of how many times he had offered to carry your bags or equipment to which you had only responded with something along the lines of “Thanks, but I’ve got it!”, cheery as ever. He had even brought you coffee one morning, which you had accepted gratefully - and when taking it from him the graze of your fingers across his was enough to make him flustered. However, you clearly hadn’t noticed that he had written his own number on the napkin wrapped around it, which he watched you crumple up and toss away without a second glance.

Small talk was far from his strong point but he had tried time and time again to start up conversations with you, which offered him some peek into your persona, but never enough before he was interrupted by the coach yelling at him to get back to practice or a teammate, clueless to his mission. Even so, if it weren’t for these tiny interactions with you he might’ve given up by now, but each one, drip-fed to him like a tired hamster running on a wheel, only made him more desperate to get closer to you. But he was just about to lose it.

After yet another practice session, which proved that he was getting slightly better at passing whilst under your watch, but not any better at talking to you, he had trudged his way into the lockeroom.

“It’s no use!” he sighed, slumping down on the nearest bench as if his frustration was taking a physical toll on him.

“Oh cheer up Trent,” Robertson chided as swung an arm around the right-back’s shoulder, “I’m sure some day you’ll be able to match my pace.”

“Lay off him Robbo,” Dominik laughed from the other side of the lockeroom, “it’s clearly not that. He’s been trying to get with that new media intern but they keep dodging all his passes.”

“Funny football pun,” Virgil chimed in, clearly amused by this mention of gossip.

“Oh you can’t be serious,” Robertson said, turning to Trent, “That’s what you’ve been doing? I was wondering what had gotten into you when you kept trying to talk to them and offering to hold all their stuff.”

“Look, even you lot have noticed it! So either they’re ignoring all my hints or they’re just straight up disinterested.” Trent huffed, unaware of his teammates looking on with slightly amused pity.

“I don’t think it’s either of thoes Trent,” Virgil hummed, “I mean, have you actually told them you’re interested in them? Directly, without trying to be vague or suave or anything.”

A beat of silence aside from the whirring of the cogs in Trent’s mind.

“... No.”

“Sounds to me like you just need to get them alone so that they’ll actually hear you out once you do tell them directly. Seems like you need some help from ol’ Robbo hey?” Robertson gestured to himself, smiling goofily.

“Yeah because you’re such the lady killer,” Dominik snickered, ignoring his teammate’s offended scoff before adding “Don’t worry Trent, we’ll all pitch in, it won’t just be Robbo.”

“Thanks guys,” Trent sighed, too tired to question whether he was making the right decision or not.

Although maybe it would’ve been worth rethinking his decision to let his teammates ‘help him out’ for a little longer. Because now, as he stood alone in one of the meeting rooms in the club building, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a bad choice. For the past five minutes he had been pacing anxiously up and down the length of the room, nothing but the hum of the ventilator and a few chairs laying askew to keep him company.

Honestly, he had had a bad feeling about this ever since Robertson had told him to wait in the meeting room after practice, without any further explanation. Ever since their talk the previous day he had been revising the words he was going to tell you, as directly and clearly as possible to make sure that he didn’t mess up what he saw as his last shot. His adrenaline was still pumping high from the training session, and he really should’ve showered before coming here because now the paranoia of smelling bad was just another addition to his endless list of concerns.

Suddenly though, he heard the creak of a door behind him. Whipping his head around he locked eyes with you as you slowly creeped out from behind it, somehow looking more lost and confused than he was.

“Hi,” he heard himself croak out, feeling all the words he had prepared hitch awkwardly in his throat.

“Hey,” you responded, voice charming as ever as you walked over to where he stood - face showing a slightly embarrassed expression at having caught him in the middle of what seemed like an awkward solo pacing session. “Robertson told me I was supposed to come to the meeting room, I’m not in trouble or anything am I?”

Trent made a mental note to tell Robbo off later solely for having made you worry, but that would soon be lost under the sweeping realisation that the two of you were alone. Albeit, in one of the least romantic places possible, but alone nonetheless.

“Oh- Well-” this realisation had only seemed to turn him into a babbling idiot. “It’s not that- You’re not in trouble, don’t worry. He probably only told you that because I wanted to talk to you.”

The sigh of relief you had been letting out was cut short as your eyes flicked back up to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Oh? What about?”

He swallowed hard, this was it. With fists clenched he sucked in a quick, but deep breath, trying not to let the fact that you were standing mere steps away looking so effortlessly adorable, distract him.

“I was wondering if-” he could hear his internal voice cheering him on - C’mon mate.

“-maybe you wanted to-” Spit it out.

“- go get a coffee sometime?” Not exactly, but good enough

“A coffee?” you perked up at this, and your smile alone was enough to relieve the nerves that had been building in his chest ever since you had entered the room, “I’d love to!”

Oh thank f-

“I mean, that sounds like a great idea for team bonding! We could invite all the guys and then the media team could get some great shots out of it and-”

Relief truly is short lived.

“No- like just us. Like, as a date.”

Both of you seemed to be shocked when Trent said this. You, for obvious reasons, stood there, mouth slightly agape with your eyes widened. Trent, on the other hand, was surprised at how quickly and firmly he had said it, but considering that it was the accumulation of over two weeks of frustration, he wasn’t that surprised. Instead, he just watched you silently piece everything that he had done over these two weeks together. The smiles, the small talk, the coffee. All of these had been more than just friendly gestures, even if it had taken you this long to figure it out.

“Like, as a date,” you echoed his words quietly, in disbelief almost, and he could only nod shakily in confirmation. “I’d love to.”

Trent felt his heart swell, threatening to burst out of his chest, upon finally hearing your sweet response to the question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since laying eyes on you. And he made this as evident as possible, letting out a loud sigh as all the nerves and stress that had been building up, finally left him, and were replaced by a much more pleasant feeling.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he said through thankful laughter, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really oblivious?”

“I may have heard that once, or twice,” you admitted sheepishly, unable to hold back from sharing his laughter. Suddenly though, a buzzing from your pocket cut through the moment, causing you to whip out your phone and scan it quickly.

“Uh, damn, it’s getting late, I should go.” You were already spinning to head out the door, before you were stopped.

“Wait!” Trent made his way over to you quickly, almost desperate in his movements not to let this last chance slip away once he had finally made something of it, “Do you think I could have your number? You know, to text you the details for coffee.”

“Oh! Of course,” you laughed at your own stupidity for not realising this sooner, quickly pulling out the same notepad you had used almost two weeks ago, only this time using it to jot down your own number. As you handed it to him, your fingers lingered in his palm for a second, barely noticeable but enough to send a signal to him, one that said you felt the same, and had been for the past two weeks despite your inability to express this.

You headed for the door, waving him a goodbye before shooting him a quick, playful smile. “See you, Trent!” you called out before disappearing down the hallway.

Trent just stood there, slightly in shock, but more so in a haze of elation, an almost embarrassingly wide smile finding itself across his face. To think the tiny slip of paper he was holding was the result of over two weeks of continuous, frustratingly tedious effort, much of it failing, was sort of embarrassing. But, thinking about this only made him cherish it all the more, as he held it close to his chest, smiling to himself.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold fic #football fanfic #football fluff #fanfic #football #liverpool fc #lfc #purinfelix #jet writes ★#jet answers ✧

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thoughtless-muse · 6 days

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chapter summary: daryl dixon was everything you despised in a man: rude, unkempt, derisive, scornful and unarticulated. yet, daryl dixon was also everything you craved in a man: mysterious, rugged, self-sufficient, masculine, aloof, and much older than yourself. it was the worst sort of enigma to place yourself in, especially during the throes of a damn apocalypse – and yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail to try and get closer to the man who hadn’t even bothered to tell you his name himself.

word count: 3.6k

c/w: language, suggestive themes/thoughts, a bit dialogue heavy, younger!fem!reader, first meetings, older/younger, undisclosed age-gap, subtle bickering, instant attraction, brief allusions to death/loss, super minor angst (maybe?), pre-season one at the quarry camp

prologue: start of doomsday

being raised by a brother ten years your senior gave you ample time and experience to grow accustomed to being dubbed with various nicknames.

goob, goober, snot, shrimp, brat, princess – you’d heard all of those and many, many more. you had long since learned to let them bounce off of you, to simply roll with the flow and ignore them.

but when he’d given you a nickname, why, you simply couldn’t let it roll off your back; couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the exact moment he’d first called you it, couldn’t refrain from stewing over the way it had rolled – all gravelly, husky and derisive – off his tongue.

“well, ain’t’chu jus’ a doll, girly?”

doll.

he had called you a fucking doll.

and girly. as if you were some sort of child.

it was such a puerile thing to get hooked up on, something so trivial and immature – especially when compared to the more pressing concerns that you should be worrying about; such as the dead slobbering for your flesh and the dwindling food supplies within the camp.

maybe it was because when you had approached him you were just a hairs-width from a mental breakdown, the world nothing more than a mere crumble around you, and his rudeness acted as the straw that broke the camel’s back.

or maybe it was because you were simply trying to be nice, for fuck’s sake, and the moment he’d laid sight on you he decided he would harbor a personal vendetta against you, for no real reason other than he could – or wanted to.

you didn’t even know his name. and it had become painfully obvious that he’d taken great lengths to make sure no one in the camp did; when you’d approached shane about him moments after that fateful incident, shane had spared no more than a glance in the direction the man had stalked off in and shrugged.

“no idea who he is, really. he kinda just showed up.” was all shane had said, as if what had just transpired was trifling at best – and, deep down inside, you knew it was; a man copping an attitude with you was the least of shane’s worries, and it was petulant for you to expect him to place it above everything else that was already piled onto his platter, that it was stupid to expect him to do something about it as if he were a parent getting onto a child.

but you just couldn’t help it.

you hadn’t been able to help it for days.

those words rang through your head every time you saw him, sauntering around the camp with a scowl, lugging around that clunky crossbow like it was some sort of deterrent, like no one would be brave enough to approach him while he had it within his reach – it just flat-out irritated you.

you were only trying to be nice.

“I don’ need no damn help. I can find a tent jus’ fine!”

“prick.” you muttered under your breath, only realizing that you’d audibly expressed your distaste at the memory when a cool, damp hand gripped your bicep.

“you okay, (y/n)?” andrea asked softly, stroking her thumb over your skin soothingly. you shot the older woman a small smile, shirking off the irritation that had built under your skin from the mere thought of that man.

“yeah, yeah. I’m good, andrea. thanks.” you returned your focus to the bin of dirty laundry you had abandoned in favor of recounting sore memories and began to scrub near-viciously. this happened a lot, too, when you thought about him. the thoughts would pop up unprompted, and then everything else would fade away into mere white noise – you were sure it was incredibly frustrating for those who shared your assigned tasks each day.

andrea hummed softly and uncurled her fingers from your bicep to return her hand to her own basin once more. silence fell over the group of women washing clothes at the lakeside, nothing but the cries of forest birds, rippling water and churning splashes against the walls of multiple basins acting as a melody to the activity.

that was, until amy spoke up, her voice airy and strained by amusement that she tried to desperately to conceal. “so, uh, who’s a prick?”

you whipped your head over to glare at amy as muted giggles arose around you, and she vehemently avoided your eyes lest the smile teasing at her lips grew into a full on grin. heat flared over your cheeks and you blew out a puff of hot air, equal parts embarrassed and irritated that you were caught angrily musing over that man red-handed. again.

“no one.” you stated simply, voice weak even to your own ears; and with the way amy’s shoulders began to tremble with contained laughter, you knew she had picked up the lack of conviction within your tone as well.

she just knew you too well.

you had met the harrison sisters the morning after the bombing of atlanta. they had been among the group of people that shane had led to the quarry. amy was sociable, nice, and outgoing, fluttering around the camp and offering bottled water and protein bars to everyone around her. close in age, you’d clicked with her almost instantly, drawn in by her bubbly personality and likeness to yourself; the two of you had been nearly inseparable since, and you even considered her to be a best friend despite the fact that you’d met her only a little over a week ago – falling in with andrea seemed all but inevitable, and you couldn’t say you hated that.

andrea was more reserved than amy was, but no less kind. you weren’t sure if it was a facet of her personality or simply because she had seen the bond forming between amy and yourself, but andrea had, at some point, taken you beneath her wing and treated you as if you were an extension of her own family – it was comforting, but in some ways, it made your heart ache.

because you’d had that once before; had it in the form of broad shoulders, dark hair, blue eyes, and a voice of reason that could talk down even the most insane of serial killers.

you’d had it in the form of rick, ten years your senior and your best friend, tied to you by more than just shared blood.

“I’m serious,” you pressed, smiling through the sudden onslaught of ache within your chest. “I wasn’t talking about anyone.”

“okay.” amy responded simply, dragging out the ‘y’ in way that conveyed exactly how much she believed you in that instant. you chuckled lowly and shook your head, willing the pain in your chest to ebb away quickly, before it swelled to something too big to contain; a knot was forming in your throat, one that had become far too familiar within the past couple weeks, and swallowing it down was growing harder and harder.

amy’s attempt at prodding fell to silence again, one that the others seemed content in, completely ignorant to the turmoil roiling within you. the silence acted as a catalyst rather than a balm, an overwhelming force that prompted the small cut in your chest into a growing chasm, and in a desperate attempt to strike conversation and sow it back up, you said, “I was talking about that guy with the crossbow.”

laughter erupted around you – the first painful stitch. amy nudged you with her elbow with a light guffaw – the second stitch, a little less painful than the first.

“yeah, I kinda figured as much.” andrea acknowledged with a laugh. “you’ve been in knots over him ever since he first showed up.” the third stitch, nearly painless.

“I have not!” you rebuked, even though a small part of you knew it was true. the man had simply waltzed into camp one day, a string of squirrels thrown over one shoulder and his crossbow slung over the other, a scowl on his face and body covered in filth and grime. sweat glistened across his brow and over the skin of his exposed biceps, and when he spoke, it was with a southern drawl that had drawn you in nearly instantly.

he was attractive as hell, at least he was to you – you became instantly overwhelmed by the desire to talk to him, to know him, to get closer in some way; but perhaps you should have observed him a bit more before practically cornering him and offering your help. maybe then you would have been able to foresee his reaction, and you wouldn’t be in this torn-up state in the first place.

“he is a bit of a prick, though.” amy conceded. “I think the only reason shane allows him to stay is because he can hunt.”

that chasm had been successfully sewn up by now, but the flesh around it was still achy and sore, sensitive to any prod and poke. you’d have to tread carefully to avoid reopening it, at least for now.

“I’m sure he’s got other skills.” you weren’t sure why you were defending the man after just insulting him and stewing over him, but for some reason, it irked you for him to be likened to as a one-trick pony. maybe it was simply the cursed attraction you had to him.

“and I’m more than certain you’d love to figure out just what those other skills are.” jacqui, who had been stationed furthest from you, piped up for the first time. your mouth popped open, your eyes widened, and heat flared to your face while the others erupted into laughter. amy’s laugh was the most notable, loud and boisterous, and despite the slight mortification you felt at jacqui’s suggestive (but true) statement, you found yourself laughing along.

you wondered just how obvious you must have been about your attraction to the man for even jacqui to have noticed; you didn’t talk much with her, but when you’re sequestered into a camp fending for your lives against the walking dead, you supposed it was only natural to pick up on things about the people around you.

had the man noticed it, too?

after all, you had, without a doubt, noticed things about him; things that no one would notice unless they had their eyes on him a little too much.

you noticed the small things that made him attractive; the subtle age lines around his eyes and lips, the creases along his forehead, the bags beneath his bottom lids, the semi-permanent frown fixed upon his face.

you noticed the things about him that stirred your gut, that pooled heat between your legs and brought about carnal arousal within you; the broad width of his shoulders, the way those shirts with the cut-off sleeves framed and accentuated his biceps and torso, those small glimpses that his pants sometimes gave you of his package, the way he sauntered around, glaring at everyone, cold and unapproachable – like a dark, gloomy castle just waiting to be turned into someone’s conquest.

most of all, you noticed the clear difference in age between the two of you – fuck… it had to be at least ten years, right? if you were lucky, it may even be larger than that.

your gut twisted with the familiar sensation of arousal and your sex throbbed between your legs, prompting you to close your thighs together in an attempt to stop it. or maybe get some friction, you weren’t sure.

this was becoming a big, big problem.

“(y/n)! aunt (y/n)!”

a shrill, childish voice called out to you from the gravel road yards from the lake, effectively dousing the low-burning embers in your belly. you whipped your head back and cupped a hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun. you smiled widely at the approaching form of carl, your one and only nephew, and discarded the wet shirt in your hand in favor of turning your entire body to face the boy.

“hey, carl! what’s up?” you questioned the exuberant child when he halted just feet away from you, panting heavily and dowsed in sweat. you reckoned he must have run all the way here from the camp. what an energetic youth.

“there’s something going down in camp. shane’s fighting with this weird guy! he has a gun!”

your heart tripped over itself and you quickly rose to your feet, shooting a hand out to grip carl by the shoulder and draw him closer. a threat of this magnitude hadn’t shown face in the camp yet, and despite the fact that it wasn’t within your jurisdiction to handle matters such as these, you couldn’t push down the instinct to do so.

“amy, could you finish up my part, please?” you asked kindly, sending the young blonde a pleading look from over your shoulder. she nodded and reached over to pull your basin closer to her, throwing a cheery “you owe me!” at your back and prompting a chuckle from your throat. uneasy murmurs had broken about amongst the women at the lake, though amy seemed unbothered by the same circumstances, focused completely on her task where as the others had slowed to a distracted crawl.

“yeah, I do, thanks. okay carl, take me to camp.” you ordered the boy, who nodded and shrugged your hand from his shoulder before dashing forward, kicking up dust from beneath his heels.

you swallowed down the command for carl to slow down that swelled in your throat and instead picked up your pace; if it was true that shane was currently grappling with someone, you couldn’t waste any time on chastising carl or slowing the pace. you had to get to camp to de-escalate the situation if it called for it.

by the time carl had broken through the foliage around the camp, your ears picked up the unmistakable rumble of shane’s voice; it held that same stern yet soft tone that he used when talking to criminal suspects – you’d been there when he’d done it before.

“… just hand me the gun and tell me your name, and we can get this all sorted.”

“I ain’t handin’ya my gun, pretty boy.” this voice was different; rugged and hoarse and dry, as if the owner of it had just chain-smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. “alls I’m lookin’ fer is my brother. I don’ have any other business with ya.”

shane sighed heavily just as you broke through the green shrubbery surrounding the east side of the camp. his hands were glued to his hips, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man a few feet in front of him. when carl had first mentioned a gun, you worried that the man may have been pointing it at the ex-officer, or others; but it was instead holstered at the man’s hip, untouched and non-threatening.

“look, man, I get that. I don’t think you’re gonna hurt anybody; but we’ve got women and children here, and you’re a stranger with a gun. I can’t take any chances. I’m sure you understand.” shane coaxed further, removing a hand from his hip and extending an open palm to the man. the man glared down at shane’s hand but made no further movement; he didn’t reach for his gun, nor did he shift his feet at all, hell, you couldn’t even tell if the man was breathing at this point. but it was obvious this man wasn’t a threat – but if shane continued to pester him this way, he very well could become one; and with carl right next to you, that was a chance you couldn’t take.

shane huffed loudly and you saw his fingers twitch, as if he were barely holding back from striking at the man. you swallowed down your trepidation and pushed carl back, clearing your throat subtly before marching right up next to shane to confront the man.

“what’s your brother’s name? maybe we can help you find him; if he’s here.”

two pairs of eyes simultaneously snapped to you – one pair dark and narrowed in a harsh glare and the other quickly lighting up with barely-concealed interest. the stranger, a man with a buzz cut and wiry face, smiled widely at you, the tip of a pink tongue slipping just barely from between his lips as his eyes trailed your body. you pushed away the shiver that threatened to crawl up your spine and held the man’s gaze confidently until he was done with his blatant show of lewd conduct.

when his eyes met yours once more, there was a coy, feline smirk upon his lips, and his croaky voice had dropped a few octaves when he responded, “daryl. his name is daryl.”

for a moment, you sat silent, gnawing on your inner cheek and wracking your brain for just who ‘daryl’ could be. you didn’t know the names of every person in camp, but that list of unknowns was short – only three people. your heart constricted. could it be?

“so, your brother’s name is daryl. what’s yours?” shane piped up, voice edged with aggravation, as he rocked back on his heels and slipped his thumbs through his belt loops. the stranger’s eyes never left your body as he opened his mouth to respond, but the voice that echoed back didn’t belong to him.

“merle? what’d’ya think yer doin’ here?”

you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know who the shambling footsteps behind you belonged to. your stomach twisted in on itself when a warm hand pushed you aside by the thick of your bicep, not too roughly but enough to have you stumbling slightly, the contact brief but enough to leave tingles in its wake. you glanced at the man between yourself and shane, taking note of the grimace on his face as he stared down the stranger.

the stranger, merle, took no heed to the glares that were fixed upon him. he smiled widely and threw his arms out as if expecting a hug.

“baby brother! isn’t it obvious? I’m here lookin’ fer ya.”

“you know him?” shane inquired, jerking his head in merle’s direction, eyes locked on the man between the two of you.

the man – daryl, as you now knew – shuffled on his feet and cast his eyes to the side, giving shane a brief once over. after that, daryl returned his eyes to merle and nodded.

“yeah. tha’s my brother.”

shane ran a shaky hand through his hair and chuckled hotly, muttering something underneath his breath. trepidation fluttered in your gut. you’d known shane long enough to know exactly what those mannerisms of his meant, and it didn’t spell anything good. you had a bad feeling shane was about to say something either highly stupid or highly impulsive; more than likely something that was both of those things at the same time.

“y’know, I don’t really have a problem with you, daryl. I never have. but this” – shane gestured to merle, who was still standing with his arms extended and that wide smile on his face – “is a bit dangerous. when you came here, you didn’t tell us jack about you; we didn’t know who you were, where you came from, or who you knew. and I didn’t bother to ask.”

daryl hadn’t moved a single inch since shane began speaking, eyes still fixed on merle, but the discomfort was plain as day on his face, and you felt irritation begin to bubble hot beneath your skin. granted, daryl was a haughty, antisocial prick, but why was shane acting like he did something wrong?

“I mean, this is just–”

“what’s your point, shane?” you cut the man off, a bit rudely, turning a sharp-eyed glare to him past daryl’s chest. shane’s eyes widened fractionally as if he hadn’t expected you to interject yourself, yet again, into a matter that he was handling on his own.

“my point is that daryl put us all in danger.” shane pressed, lowly, with a hand wave towards merle and dark eyes glaring daggers into yours. “we don’t know him, and we don’t know his brother. for all we know, merle could have stormed into camp, gun blazing-”

“but he didn’t.” you rebuked impatiently. you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head subtly to the side. “and that’s a risk that comes with everyone in the camp. we don’t know anyone here, other than each other. and even so, you haven’t seen me in three years. I may as well be a stranger, too.”

“that’s different. you’re like a little sister to me.” shane rebutted, prompting an eye roll and hip jut from you. you wouldn’t consider shane a brother even if he’d spent every moment of your youth with you. you swallowed down that statement in favor of keeping yourself on track with the real issue at hand.

“my point still stands. nothing bad happened, so why don’t you just cool your jets and back off a bit?”

shane’s lips thinned into a line, dark eyes darting between you, daryl and merle a couple times before he heaved a great sigh.

“okay, fine, you’re right. nothing happened. but I’d still like to have a conversation with both of you, if that’s alright.” shane conceded, directing his final statement at the two brothers still locked in a stare down. daryl only gave the tiniest of nods to display that he’d even acknowledged shane’s statement, and, satisfied with the knowledge that tensions had been quelled, you turned on your heel to head back to the lake and check on the progress of the laundry.

unbeknownst to you, the event that had just transpired would turn out to be the catalyst to a soon-to-come tension between shane and yourself, as well as the act that had garnered you a modicum of respect and interest from the rude, attractive man that you were sure would never even notice you; and that little problem that you thought was becoming much too big was only going to grow larger, and very quickly.

chapter one

a/n: tbh I struggled a bit with this one. it is just a prologue, a means of setting up the deeper story, but I still wanted it to come out as good as possible, and I feel I didn’t quite articulate that. but before this finalized version, I went through at least three drafts before finding this one to be somewhat adequate. if you guys enjoyed this one nonetheless, please show it some love! if you’re looking forward to more updates, consider following or being added to the taglist!

TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #twd

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evelynsfics · 2 years

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Life captured in a painting.

I saw more people today, they came by to see the room. The same room everyone comes to see. I watched them briskly walk past all the silent painting and watching candles, they paid no mind to the dust and spiders, they never do, after all. A single goal in mind, they came to see the rusted beds, i'm sure. They all do. Countless pulled towards us by a never ending curiousity. Yet none ever leave. A shame, really. All those bodies have so many uses besides to carry one's mind from awful place to calm, serene dreams.

The light flickers everynow and then, it always has since that day... Well, no point in reminding oneself of things long since purposely forgotten. I don't know why. I never did. They kept me in the dark to stumble and fall, only to join me once they outlived the only usefulness they once had.

Everything was so much simpler when we used candles to light up the halls, back then the painting frames weren't so faded and the paint still held it's vibrant colors. Ah, but alas time eats away even at the most humble of hands.

Once the man died and our house fell into chaos and apathy, once we lost all we had left, then and only then did we realize that we witnessed the end of a bloodline. Years passed with no light, no human contact, and quickly, life as we knew it changed. Mankind has come so far from the last time our family ate together during Christmas, oh but i guess it's to be expected.

Now, we sit wordlessly, watching men and women gape in awe at our beauty. We watch them walk down the ancient, moth eaten rug in the hall, desperate to look at as much as they can. It's always been like this, visitors always looked around awestruck, never quite grasping all we had to sacrifice to obtain all this gold tinted bronze.

They never saw beneath the lies. They never realized. They never knew that our family, entire generations of lives lost to illness and war, was built on fickle lies, ones that would shatter like glass at the softest of touches.

Ignorance is bliss, and in some cases, it is all that stands between a life of luxury and a death of misery and regret.

Is that how they all died? In agony and longing? Longing for a better life? A second chance? A way to undo all the hurt and envy they caused to people that didn't deserve it? Not that we weren't without fault, of course. We always where too quick to judge, too quick to kill in the name of false justice and broken pride. That's how we made our way to the top. That's how it's always been.

Even now, as i watch people dressed in monochromatic tones walk by, strange devices lightning up their hands, i know that i am so much more than them. I've seen so many wonders of nature that their feeble mortal minds wouldn't be able to even comprehend. I've become what i always knew I'd be. Yet, it's so strangely melancholic to watch them freely walk, talking amongst eachother so carelessly, mindlessly laughing at words i can't seem to understand. Oh how i miss being like them.

The scenery before me always changes, the sun sets in such a lovely way, everyday the same yet changing, charming in such a disgusting way. Lives come and go, looking up at us like we're an attraction at a crumbling museum left to rot in it's meaningless sorrows. I, however, am eternal. I will watch a thousand years before i succumb to rot and decay.

For the view behind the picture frame may rot, but as the last of what once was a bloodline of pure power and might, i will last on far longer than the portrait they painted of me in my dying moments.

Some part of me knows they knew what a horrible fate they doomed me to. Some part of me feeds on the hatred they felt for me. Some part of me still feels it, pulsing a soft rhythm inside the now silent paintings.

And i relish in it. It's what kept me alive for so long, is it not?

#hey how cool would it be if i wrote a story from the point of view of someones reflection #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing #another personal favourite #i vividly remember writing this one #the story behind it is really funny #okay so. i was on pintrest being mentally ill as i usually do #and i saw this one picture of a girl in a room w a bunch of mirrors and i thought #but that didnt work out as well as i thought #and because the idea was really nice i decided to try and do it w a painting

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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months

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Hey! I love ur blog and I saw ur accepting requests for luke castellan, (I’ve never requested a fic before so I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong lol)

Could I have a fic where reader comes to camp in the middle of the night after getting attacked by monster(doesn’t matter which monster) but after they’re in camp and moved into the Hermes cabin they’re distant and angry because theyre pissed off at the world and the gods. Luke being luke though doesn’t give up on trying to make the reader feel at home and tries his hardest to get them out of their shell. UNTIL reader gets claimed by Zeus and gets moved to the lonely Cabin 1 and can’t sleep so they go back to Hermes cabin and Luke lets them sleep in his bunk w him and fluffy ending of such

Damn that was a lot it’s totally ok if u don’t want to do this!

Thank you!!!

I really love this idea, and I'm so glad you love my blog! Hope you enjoy!

Mystery Girl

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

pairing: luke castellan x zeus!reader

warnings: minor depictions of violence, readers kind of a bitch but like not really.

a/n: reader is so unbothered i kinda aspire to be her

Late at night, you stumbled through the camp's threshold, leaning on Aspen, your protector. He was equally leaning into you, and you couldn’t tell whose blood it was soaking threw your shirt, yours, or his.

You could see a few buildings at the bottom of the hill, and a few of them had lights on.

��Help, please!” You shouted, weakly raising your arm to catch some sort of attention.

Aspen did the same, his exclamations a mix of real words and pained bleats.

Eventually, people began emerging from the buildings, rubbing their eyes in exhaustion, trying to work out what was going on. You and Aspen continued to shout for help, shuffling slowly down the hill, praying that you wouldn’t bleed out before you reached the bottom.

Finally, someone seemed to realise you were in trouble, and a boy about your age began jogging up the hill towards you. His face was mostly calm, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, halting when he saw the blood on your clothes and the used spear in your hand.

You instinctively let go of Aspen, and rushed forward to seek help.

“Please, help me.” You pleaded desperately, losing your balance and stumbling forwards towards him.

“Alright, alright.” He said, catching you by the arm and holding you steady, before shouting down at the campers below, “These two need to get to the infirmary! Someone wake the Apollo cabin, yeah?!”

He then turned back to you, holding you steady by the arms and trying to assess the damage.

“It’s alright, yeah? You’re safe now, we just gotta get these cuts checked out, hm?”

You tried to nod, but found you couldn’t move your head, or your body. You tried to speak, tried to tell him that Aspen needed help too, but your mouth couldn’t move either.

And then your vision went black.

When you woke up, you thought you were in heaven. It smelt nice, homely. Not that you really knew that home was supposed to smell like.

It was warm too, and you felt yourself sighing contentedly. If this really was heaven, then you didn’t mind being there all that much.

After a while, you decided it was time to open your eyes, maybe go and explore the afterlife.

But when you tried to sit up, you felt a sharp jolt of pain that snapped you back to reality. You let out a small hiss in discomfort, lowering yourself back into the bed.

Slowly, the memories began to come back to you, leaving school, Aspen forcing you onto a road trip, nearly getting killed by a monster, and finally passing out on the hill of a ‘camp’.

Heaven sounded preferable.

You took in the room. It seemed like any old house, a dresser in the corner along with a wardrobe and old floral wallpaper that even covered the ceiling. Until you noticed another bed beside yours, with Aspen asleep on it, and one beside his.

You remembered the words of that boy who’d run to you, and you figured this must be the infirmary.

“Hey, Aspen.” You whispered, turning your head to the side and trying to ignore the sting of your injuries.

“Aspen!” You called again, raising your voice, but still he didn’t hear you. He must still be asleep. Lucky bastard.

You huffed, sinking fully back into the pillows and waiting for someone to arrive. Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and soon enough a young boy was coming in, holding several canisters of liquid.

“Oh, you’re awake,” He grinned, “How’s the pain?”

“Bad.” You replied, groaning at the thought.

He chuckled, “Not surprising. You got some nasty scratches from that monster. Here, drink some of this, it’ll fix you up.”

He offered one of the canisters to you, and you took it, regarding it with a certain amount of suspicion.

“What’s this?”

“Nectar. It’ll help, trust me.”

You relented, deciding that it was worth the risk if it would get rid of some of the throbbing in your back.

And he was right, almost immediately, you felt soothed, and as you drank more, you began to feel energised, like you could conquer the world.

“What did you say this was? Nectar?”

“Yep. Food of the gods.”

“Where’d you get this stuff?”

“Oh, we get shipments from Olympus every month. You won’t find that at your local grocery store.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” You held up your hands to stop him for a minute, “What do you mean Olympus?”

The boy's eyes widened, and some kind of realisation struck him.

“I don’t think I should be the one to break this to you.”

Just a few hours later, everything had been explained to you, and you were kicked out of the so-called ‘Big House’. Nice of them to do that, considering a centaur had just dropped the bombshell that you were the child of an ancient Greek god.

To be fair though, you probably should have clocked that something was up when you were being chased by a mythical beast, but then again, you did have your hands full.

Now, you were sitting on the front steps of the porch, waiting for some kid to show you round the camp.

“Hey, mystery girl! Good to see you’re feeling better.” A voice called out, and you looked up to see the very same boy who had come to your aide on the hill.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Luke.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, so, I’ll start the tour.” He declared, flashing you another bright grin which you feebly returned.

He started the tour off at the dining pavilion, then showed you the amphitheatre, then the strawberry fields, the archery range and the lake.

Finally, he introduced you to each of the cabins, skipping over the empty cabins 1, 2 and 3.

“And this,” He gestured to the eleventh cabin, “Will be where you’re staying.”

“Woah.” You said, stepping back, “What do you mean staying? I can’t stay here.”

He looked at you blankly, “You don’t really have much of a choice, mystery girl.”

“Yeah, I do. I can leave whenever I want, you can’t do anything about it.”

“You wanna get killed by a monster? Because if I remember right, you came awfully close a few days ago. That’s why you can’t leave.”

“Well I guess I’ll just have to take that chance. Appreciate the tour and everything, but I’m going.” You then turned on your heel and began to walk away.

There was no chance in hell you were staying in this camp, and if it had to be over your dead body, then so be it.

However, your desertion was halted by Luke grabbing you by the hand and pulling you back.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N. You’ll die as soon as you step past that barrier. Just,” He sighed, seemingly exasperated, “Stay for one night. It’s not that bad here once you get used to it.”

You glared up at him, weighing your options. He seemed pretty serious about this.

“And you can’t leave Aspen when he’s still in critical condition?”

That broke your resolve.

“Fine. I’ll stay until Aspen wakes up. Show me my bunk.”

He grinned, and turned back to Cabin 11, showing you inside.

Turns out, Aspen waking up wouldn’t be such a close deadline as you thought. As it turned out, he’d been hit by some kind of poisonous claw from the monster, and had been put into some kind of coma.

So now, as prior to your agreement with Luke, you were stuck here until he woke up. Which could be next week, or next year for all you knew.

And yeah, you felt bad for the guy ‘cause he was in a coma, but it was seriously messing up your plans of leaving camp.

Because you hated camp.

The Hermes cabin stunk, and it was constantly noisy. Probably because there were so many people in there all the damn time.

You also sucked at most of the stuff around camp.

You weren’t exactly nurturing, so it was a no to the infirmary and the strawberry fields. You were an awful shot, and when you had a go in the forges you dropped a mallet on your foot. You were still recovering from that one.

It seemed the only thing you were even slightly good at was fighting, mainly with the staff Aspen had lent you during the fight with the monster outside camp. Still, you weren’t great, unlike Luke who had insisted on taking you under his wing.

He sat with you at every dinner and breakfast, and always seemed to be there when you turned a corner, or found a moment of peace.

Yes, it was very kind of him to try and settle you in, but it was pretty futile, considering all you had wanted to do ever since you woke up was leave, consequences be damned.

The one saving grace to your boredom was capture the flag. Luke had told you about it on your first day, and it was a game you remembered playing as a kid, and really enjoying. Apparently they ran a game every month, and this coming Sunday would be your first time playing.

The day of the game arrived, and for the first time in your two weeks at camp, you were in a decently good mood, and of course, Luke took notice of this.

“What’s got you so happy, mystery girl?”

“Nothing. Besides, why do you keep calling me that, you know my name now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you're just so private and mysterious. I’m surprised you even told me your name.”

“I wish I didn’t, Castellan, maybe you wouldn’t be here to bug me all the time.”

“Ouch, don’t be like that. You know I’m great company really.”

You didn’t reply to that, instead rolling your eyes at him and returning to the task of tightening your armour, struggling a bit with the straps.

Luke quickly came to your aid, much to your chagrin, helping you adjust the breastplate so it fit properly.

“Thanks.” You sighed reluctantly, quickly stepping away from him to grab your spear.

“No problem.”

Soon, the game was well underway, and you quickly realised that you had been given possibly the most boring job, that being guarding the perimeter. Not that you could really blame your team leaders, you were the newest member and logically the most inexperienced. But still, you’d been hoping for something a little more exciting.

Every now and then you heard the odd shout further on in the woods and raised your spear, but you never actually caught sight of anyone from the opposing team. Or your team for that matter.

You really had been given the short straw.

After another hour of standing there, you were about ready to quit all of this completely, throw off your armour and escape camp, agreement with Luke be damned, that was until you heard hurried footsteps, and someone panting heavily coming from behind you.

You quickly whipped around, to see a girl from the Ares cabin, holding your flag, standing about 50 feet away.

Then you heard another step of footsteps, and there was Luke, around the same distance away, holding the opposing team's flag.

You really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something this exciting.

They both began to run towards the threshold at top speed, and you stayed standing between them, unsure of what to do. Should you step back and let Luke do his thing, or should you step in to stop the girl. She looked pretty terrifying.

You whipped your head side to side, continuing to debate, and in the midst of your dilemma, you realised the girl was much closer to you than Luke was. Fuck.

You had to stop her somehow, but you obviously could just slash blindly at her, you didn’t want to behead her.

And then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, falling directly in her path, and she leapt back to avoid it, stumbling and also falling to the floor.

Luke kept running, swerving around the fallen tree and onto your team's territory, cheering as the red flag shimmered and turned blue, and the conch sounded.

You quickly ran over to the girl, clambering over the tree in an effort to help her up.

She looked up at you in shock and confusion, but her eyes seemed to be focused on the space just about your head.

“What’s wrong?”

She pointed above you, “He claimed you.” She stuttered out.

You looked to where she was pointing, and saw a lightning bolt shining above your head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Of course you had to be Zeus’ kid. Just your luck, a forbidden child, with some stupid prophetic destiny.

If you ever met your father, you’d be sure to give him an earful about his part in your conception.

Almost immediately after capture the flag, you were announced to the camp by Chiron, and then promptly herded into the empty cabin 1.

And you never thought you’d say it, but you missed cabin 11. Sure, it was a mess, and the kids in there didn’t know how to shut up, but at least it had some semblance of life, unlike your new home. It was barren, and empty, and you hated it.

It was even worse now that you had your own permanent bed. Before you’d had at least a pipedream of leaving camp and going off on your own again, but now that was entirely gone. Chiron would never let you out of his sight ever again, not now that you were a child of the ‘Big Three’. You were so screwed.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, unable to sleep in the unfamiliar environment, and, strangely, uncomfortable with the crushing loneliness you felt.

You’d never felt lonely before. Your whole life, you’d been pretty much alone, but that was by choice. This time it was by force, and you felt isolated from everyone else at camp. Suddenly you regretted your refusal to make friends.

So, your feet naturally carried you to the only person you could kind of call a friend, and you weren’t surprised when you landed outside Luke Castellan’s window.

You gave it a light tap, and he opened his eyes, giving you a sad smile as he saw your face through the window. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all either.

“Can I come in?” You mouthed through the window, and he quickly nodded, reaching up to open it and let you in.

“Thanks,” You whispered, stepping down onto the hardwood floor.

“No problem. Having trouble sleeping?” He asked, patting the spot beside him. You gladly sat down.

“Uh, yeah. It’s really empty there.”

“Hm, sure is. You sure you didn’t just miss me too much?”

“Maybe I did Castellan.” You declared, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to say.

“I’m sorry though, Luke. I’ve been kind of an asshole ever since I got here.” You said, looking down at your muddy shoes.

“Hey, I get it. It’s an adjustment, that’s for sure. I’ve dealt with worse from newcomers.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Anytime.”

You both fell silent for a moment, listening to the snores of the kids around you before he piped up again.

“Hey, I don’t mind you staying here tonight if you want?” He said, his voice slightly awkward. You paid it no mind.

“I’d like that.”

He moved to the other side of the bed as you removed your shoes, rolling onto the bed beside him.

You were both silent again for a while, until Luke’s voice yet again came from beside you.

“I’m gonna have to come up with a new name for you now, huh?”

“What, I’m not mysterious anymore?” You asked, feigning offence.

“Not now that we’re best buddies. I’m thinking… Sparky!”

“That is god awful.”

“Exactly.”

You snickered under your breath at his idiotic sense of humour, and allowed yourself to sink into the bed beside him.

And for the first time, you didn’t want to leave.

#fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #writing #pjo #luke castellan #fluff #x reader

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