#close behind and strawberry wine fucked me up good in the last couple of days
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it's something sinister to love
without regard for dear tomorrow
#modern warfare 3 spoilers#mwiii spoilers#soapghost#ghostsoap#ghoap#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#mwiii#09 soapghost#listen i just think that while 22 ghost would be fuckin pissed that they're destined to die in every life#09 soap would find so much comfort in the fact that they got to find and love each other again in the next one#despite how it all ends#something something i will chose you every time#something something only two things will ever have me you and death#anyway#close behind and strawberry wine fucked me up good in the last couple of days#soph arts#id in alt text
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Life As We Know It {Chapter 14}
Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.
Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.
Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >>@snelbz
Life As We Know It Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist
Cassian was up far before Nesta, but that was to be expected.
He had worn her out, after all.
In all honesty, though, she had worn him out, too. And he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.
It had taken him a while to fall asleep the night before, to fully digest everything that had happened between the two of them. He didn’t regret it, not for a second, but it was…strange. Nesta Archeron was the last woman he thought he’d find himself in such a situation with.
It had been a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Even when he had finally fallen asleep, it was all he dreamt about.
His hands on her body.
The little sounds that fell from her lips.
The feeling of his mouth against hers.
The feeling of being inside of her.
Dressing, he crept downstairs, not wanting to wake her, and made a pot of coffee. Sitting at the kitchen table, he ran a hand through his messy hair.
Cassian had no idea what was going to come this morning. Was she going to pretend it never happened? Was she going to be mad or say that it was a mistake?
He sure as hell hadn’t thought it was a mistake. He’d loved every minute of the night they’d shared, but he knew that a line had been crossed between them.
He was going to let her decide what would come next.
It wasn’t two minutes after Cassian pulled a pan of crispy bacon out of the oven, he heard a door open at the top of the stairs. He smirked, but felt a sense of dread as footsteps slowly descended towards the kitchen.
Nesta appeared, dressed in long-sleeved flannel pajamas. She stopped in the doorway and cleared her throat.
“I made breakfast,” Cassian said, gesturing to the display on the countertop.
“Thanks,” Nesta said, scratching the back of her head.
“Care to join me at the table?” he asked.
Nesta hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”
Cassian said nothing more as he made her a plate, then himself one, and carried them to the table. He was already popping a piece of bacon into his mouth when Nesta sat.
“So,” Cassian began. “How are you?”
“Good,” Nesta answered, a little too quickly. “You?”
“Good,” Cassian said, nodding.
Silence ensued.
They ate quietly. Cassian glanced at Nesta from time to time. Nesta did the same. Eventually, Cassian dropped his fork on his plate and ran a hand through his hair.
“Alright, this is ridiculous,” he said.
Nesta raised a brow. “What is?”
“This awkwardness,” Cassian said, laughing quietly. “I mean, we fucked, right?”
Nesta nearly choked on a piece of bacon. “We….”
“Had sex,” Cassian finished. “We did, and you know what? It was good. But when we went to bed, it was awkward. And this morning? Still awkward. Why is it awkward?”
“Because we had drunk sex,” she said, laughing, despite herself. “We got drunk and we hooked up, like horny teenagers and…” She shook her head, and looked up at him. And she burst out laughing.
“And we’re adults,” he said, laughing along with her. “We made that choice. I liked that choice. I’d make that choice again.”
Nesta’s laughter quieted. “I know. I don’t either, but…”
Cassian took a drink of his coffee, smirking. “Was it not the best sex of your life?”
Nesta began blushing, and she bit her lip as she moved the eggs around her plate. “I plead the fifth.”
“That’s a cop-out answer,” Cassian said, his mouth full.
Nesta laughed. “So what?”
Cassian’s grin said plenty. “Fair enough. I mean, it was a one time thing, right?”
“Right,” Nesta said, without any hesitation. “So, there’s no need to feel awkward, right?”
“Right,” Cassian agreed. “We were letting off some steam, some stress, and now we’re fine.”
“Exactly,” Nesta said, scooping up a mouthful of eggs.
That silence resumed.
A few minutes later, Nesta said, “It was pretty good, though.”
Cassian chuckled. “Oh, I know.”
She kicked his shin beneath the table.
His grin widened.
“What do you have going on today?” Cassian asked, at last.
“Work,” Nesta answered, simply. “You’ll pick Nyx up?”
“I will,” he promised.
“Great,” she said, taking a drink of her coffee. She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. “Shit, I need to go get ready.”
“Go,” he chuckled, shooing her off. “I’ll handle the kitchen.”
She glanced around at the room, which was still a wreck from the night before. Her bikini top was looped over one of the drawer pulls and she blushed.
She couldn’t believe it.
She had sex with Cassian, her sworn enemy for years.
And the most surprising thing of all? She had liked it.
A lot.
He hadn’t been lying when he said it would be the best sex of her life. There was no comparison, whatsoever.
Even waking up after a fantastic night of sleep, Nesta still felt amazing. She was relaxed, albeit a bit sore. Nearly giddy.
And all because of Cassian.
*
Since the accident, Nesta hadn’t spent nearly as much time at the restaurant as she usually did. And not nearly as often as she liked. Her staff had absolutely understood that she needed to get accustomed to her new life and how things worked, but as she hurried between the dining room and the kitchen, she couldn’t help but feel like she was in a bit over her head.
Granted, her mind kept trailing back to the activities she’d had the night before, which flustered her to no end every time she thought about them. She was staring at an open laptop in front of her, the PDF of the new menu staring back, when she heard a throat clearing from the doorway of her office.
She glanced up and found Helion standing there. He was her general manager and made sure everything ran smoothly when she wasn’t there, and he was a blessing in her life.
“What’s up?”
He looked around before slipping into the chair across the desk from her. “You going to tell me what’s got you spacing out so badly today that you mixed fresh salmon into the chicken salad base?”
Nesta cringed, but tried not to show it. “I wanted to try a new recipe. If it bombs, it bombs.”
Helion lifted a brow, not believing her lie for a second.
“What?” Nesta asked.
“Did the walk of shame this morning, did you?” He asked, a familiar mischievous glint in his eye.
Nesta hesitated. “Is it still a walk of shame if you never leave your house?”
Helion’s brows furrowed but then the dots connected. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened. “You fucked the hot uncle?”
Nesta groaned, her face falling into her hands.
Helion had no sympathy. He asked, “Is he the one that’s sitting at the bar asking for you?”
Nesta’s hands fell and she met Helion’s eye.
Helion shrugged. “Didn’t think I just came back here to chat, did you?”
“I…” Nesta was up before she could even think through what she might say to him, rounding her desk and hurrying towards the front of the restaurant.
She wasn’t sure if Cassian’s mid-day appearance was a good thing or not. On one hand, he may have stopped by with Nyx after picking him up from Elain’s. On the other, what if something was wrong? What if Nyx had had a bad night or something had happened? Her steps slowed and she paused before she left the kitchens, taking a deep breath.
Nothing was wrong. She wouldn’t accept any other answer. Tucking her loose hair behind an ear, she pushed through the door.
But she didn’t find Cassian sitting at the bar.
It was Balthazar, whose brown eyes she met and her smile faltered, but only a little. She had it back in place before he had time to notice.
“Figured out how I recognized you,” he said, as she approached from the other side of the bar.
“I see that,” she laughed, softly.
“Turns out I come here often,” he continued, his smile growing. “Turns out, so do you.”
“I would say I make an appearance here from time to time,” she agreed. “So, stop in for lunch?”
“I had the day off,” he explained, shrugging. “Errand day.”
She was just now noticing the designer sweatpants and hoodie he wore. His sneakers alone probably cost a couple hundred dollars.
Apparently the rumors were true…
Doctors made good money.
“And this was on your list?” Nesta asked.
Bal chuckled. “Well, last night I got to thinking that I’ve seen you here once or twice. It just clicked. So, I googled the restaurant, and, believe it or not, the owner’s picture is on the website.”
“Huh,” Nesta chimed. “Funny.”
“Mhmm,” Balthazar crooned. “I thought so. So, I thought I’d come visit and, yeah, maybe stay for lunch.”
“Well, lucky for you, the lunch special of the day is the prime dip, and I must say that it’s absolutely delicious,” Nesta said.
He closed the menu on the bar top in front of him. “Sounds perfect.”
“Give me just a minute to get that for you, and I’ll be right back. Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, sliding the menu below the bar.
“Drink drink or just to drink?” He asked and his smile did strange things to her stomach.
“Oh, I don’t have a liquor license,” she said, scrunching her nose. Too many hoops to jump through, but she would have loved to serve wine with her food. The pairings she would come up with were tempting. “Water, your everyday sodas, and homemade fruit teas.”
“Fruit tea, huh?” He tapped a contemplative finger against his chin.
She couldn’t have stopped the grin if she tried. “Has that piqued your interest?”
“Depends on what flavors you have,” he said, folding his arms across the bar. “I’m very choosy about my fruit tea.”
She laughed, quietly. “Mango, raspberry, strawberry, and passion fruit.”
“Passion fruit,” he repeated. “I like the sound of that.”
“Okay,” Nesta said, quietly with a little smile she couldn’t stop, and hurried back to the kitchen.
Helion was waiting for her behind the swinging door, grinning from ear to ear.
“Not him,” Nesta said, sweeping past him.
“Still handsome!” Helion called after her.
Nesta ignored him, not wanting to give him too much information on her current man-drama, even though she could tell he was far too invested in her private life.
After putting his order in, Nesta was heading back into her office and shutting herself inside, if only to shut out Helion.
When she had rounded the corner and saw it wasn’t Cassian, there was the tiniest bit of disappointment that she had to quickly push away. Then again, it also meant that everything had apparently gone okay with Nyx, which Nesta was happy about.
She and Cassian had been a one time thing.
Yes, they had called a truce, but it didn’t mean anything more than them being civil with one another. It meant co-parenting. Maybe even one day becoming something that resembled friends…but nothing more.
She tried to focus on the proof of the menu she was editing, tried to pay attention to the descriptions she typed out and the pictures she selected as focal points. But after she ended up choosing the wrong picture three times in a row, she closed her laptop and sighed, letting her face fall into her hands. She was distracted and she genuinely couldn’t tell if it was due to the man sitting out at the bar or if it was thanks to the one at home.
Balthazar’s order was up, and Nesta was delighted to find that someone, most likely Helion, had brought him his tea. When she set his plate down in front of him, his tongue swept across his bottom lip, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice.
“This looks amazing,” he said.
“And your tea?” Nesta asked.
“Pretty good,” he grinned.
Damn his smile. Every time he smiled, Nesta couldn’t help but smile back.
“Well, it was great seeing you,” Nesta said, and she meant it. “I should get back to work, though, I’m pretty booked.”
“Of course,” he said, understandingly. “I get it. I did want to ask you, though, if you were free on Saturday night?”
It was only a few nights away, and at first, Nesta hesitated, but then she thought it was ridiculous that she was hesitating, so she said, “Yeah, I’m free.”
“Good,” Bal said, cocking his head to the side. “How about that date, then?”
“I’ll have to check with Cassian,” she said, and when his eyebrows raised, she added hastily, “To make sure he doesn’t already have plans. It’s- We alternate who gets weekends off, and I made a deal with him last weekend.”
Balthazar nodded, and he took another sip of his tea. “Well, then you just let me know if Saturday will work and if not, we’ll figure out another day.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Nesta turned and was almost back to the door leading to the kitchen when she turned and said, “Lunch is on me today, by the way.”
His own smile was dazzling when he said, “My compliments to the chef.”
With a shy wave, though Nesta wasn’t sure she had a timid bone in her body, she was through the door and headed back to her office. Helion was on her heels a second later, trailing her through the doorway.
“One minute, you’re banging the hot uncle and the next, a Greek god asks you out on a date?” He said, his brows flicking up. “You apparently have fate on speed dial and I need you to give me her number.”
“Shut up,” she groaned, collapsing into her chair. “Don’t you have orders to help cook?”
He hummed quietly as he left her to her thoughts, but did as she said, finding his way back onto the grill line.
Nesta glanced over at the clock. Only two in the afternoon. It was going to be a long day.
*
Nyx blew a raspberry, landing a spray of sweet potato directly on Cassian’s face. His body stilled, but when Nyx started giggling, Cassian’s body quickly relaxed.
“Very funny,” he said, ruffling Nyx’s hair as he stood and went to the sink. After tearing a paper-towel off the roll, he held it under the faucet and wiped off his face.
The front door opened and closed.
“Hello?” Nesta called.
“Kitchen!” Cassian replied. “Nyx is making a mess!”
Nesta was in the kitchen in no time, hurrying to Nyx and kissing his chubby cheeks. “Hi, my love. I missed you. Yes, I did.”
Nyx babbled incoherently in response.
“How was your day?” Cassian asked, wiping off the last bit of potato from his eyebrow.
“Long,” she admitted. “Right before I was about to leave, a shipment of fresh ingredients came in that I needed to get stocked and inventoried.” She dumped a few of the strawberry-banana puffs into her hand and popped one of them into her mouth. “If I have to count another head of lettuce today, my head might explode.”
“Well, fortunately,” Cassian chuckled. “There are no heads of lettuce here for you to count.”
“Have you eaten yet?” She asked, heading for the fridge. “I’m starving.”
“There’s pizza on the way,” he said, attempting to get another spoonful of sweet potatoes into Nyx’s mouth. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, or if you’d feel like cooking.”
“You’re a blessing,” she sighed, and sat down at the kitchen table. She watched as Nyx continued to spray food into his face and chuckled quietly. “You want me to take over?”
“Nah,” he said, leaving the splattered sweet potato where it stuck to his face. “No need for both of us to get covered.”
“How gallant of you,” Nesta chuckled, opening the fridge and pulling out a can of Coca-Cola. She rarely did caffeine, but after the day she had, it was necessary. “I, um, did have a question for you.”
Cassian looked over his shoulder, brow raised.
Nesta couldn’t help but smile at the specks of sweet potato that covered his face.
“I was wondering if I could go out Saturday night,” Nesta said. “I mean, I know last weekend I went out, and I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-.”
“With the doctor?” Cassian interrupted. His tone wasn’t hard, but it did seem uncertain, or another emotion that Nesta couldn’t quite place.
“Yeah,” Nesta began, cracking open her can. “He came by the restaurant today and asked me to dinner on Saturday night. I told him I’d have to talk to you about it first, since I said I’d have Nyx.”
“I see,” Cassian said, turning back to Nyx.
“If it’s an issue, if you have plans, I don’t mind telling him no-.”
“You should go,” Cassian said, shrugging. “I have no plans. I can stay here.”
She blinked, watching him. “You’re sure?”
“You sound like you don’t want me to be sure,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Are you looking for a reason to say no?”
“No,” she replied, quickly. “It’s just… After last night-.”
“We hooked up,” he shrugged. “We blew off some steam, in a very physical way. But that was that, and, like we said this morning, it was a one time thing, yeah?” She nodded. “Alright, then if you want to say yes, say yes. I can watch Nyx.”
She hesitated for a second, but her smile grew. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, and gave her a smile of his own. “Go relax for a bit, I’ll let you know when the pizza is here.”
She nodded and was about to head up the stairs, but she turned around, wiping the smeared baby food off his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Cass.”
He mumbled something and waved her off, and she grabbed her phone from her purse before she hurried up to her room.
After changing out of her work clothes and into something far more comfier, she fell back on her bed and unlocked her phone.
Balthazar’s messages were soon pulled up, and Nesta was sending him a text.
Saturday sounds great. Pick me up at 7?
She didn’t wait for his response before tossing her phone aside and going through her nightly routine. She figured she would eat and call it a day.
She was beat.
After washing her face and pulling up her hair, Nesta walked back into her room just as her phone lit up on top of her comforter.
Balthazar.
I won’t be a second late.
#nessian#nesta#cassian#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#fanfic#fanfiction#nesta x cassian#cassian x nesta#shacmc lawki#collab#snelbz x tacmc#sjm
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but we’re still young || h. styles
warnings: mentions of alcohol, references to alcoholism, swearing, brief mentions of death, sexual references, discussions of infertility, googled medical diagnoses, breakup, references to covid, not really proofread
word count: 7.2k
summary: anecdotes of a relationship destined to collapse...
01 march, 2013
“Just talk to her, man!” Liam yelled over the deafening music of the club. Harry sighed, his eyes drifting between the drink in his hands and you. You were dancing with your friends, laughing as the skinny girl tripped over her own feet. Snapping his eyes away from you, he glanced across at Liam, “Bit creepy, though, isn’t it?”
“You have been staring at her for the past five minutes. That’s creepier than just talking to her,” Liam shrugged, patting Harry on the back.
The band had been given the night off. Finally. Collectively, they’d all decided to go out together. That’s not to say they would be staying out too late, though - they had an early start the next morning. “Yeah, man,” came Niall’s voice. “Just go buy her a drink or something.”
“No,” Louis said quickly, arriving at the bar with Zayn. “Don’t do that. They’d rather you just spoke to them than try and buy them a drink. It makes it seem like you’re trying to get them drunk and, you know…”
Harry finished the rest of his drink, running a hand through his hair. Zayn glanced between him and the exit to the club, “Harry, mate, maybe you shouldn’t. If somebody sees you talking to a girl and leaks it to the press-”
“Well, then they’re a dickhead,” Liam said. “It’s your life, Hazza. Worth a shot, right?”
Zayn sighed, “Yeah, they’re a dickhead. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be her who faces the consequences for talking to you. You know what they’re like whenever we talk to a girl.”
“Too late,” Niall said quickly, gesturing over to the three girls walking over to the bar. One of the girls was considerably drunker than the others, both of them having to support her. The five boys tried to be subtle as they carefully watched you and your friend sit the drunker one down at the booth by the bar. They could just about hear your conversation over the music. After all, you weren’t sat all that far away. “Jesus, Eileen,” you sighed, examining your giggling friend. “What did you drink?”
“I think we should take her home,” your other friend said.
“No!” Eileen protested. “We’re having so much fun!”
“You’re so drunk,” the other one laughed at Eileen and your frustrated expression.
“You know me, Nelly, I love a good vodka and coke!” Eileen grinned. “Once I have one, I can’t stop.”
“Have you considered therapy?” Nelly joked. “An AA meeting, maybe?”
You scoffed, slumping back against the padded fabric of the booth. Brushing the loose strands of Eileen’s hair out of her face, you wrapped her jacket around her bare arms. “Come on,” you sighed, “let’s go home.”
You and Nelly carefully lifted Eileen up from the seat to guide her out of the club. The cold London air was refreshing against your flushed cheeks. Yes, you may have been slightly tipsy, but you were nowhere near as bad as Eileen. Besides, Nelly was entirely sober. The only thing she’d drunk that night was a glass of lemonade. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She’d have a glass of wine at fancy dinners and that was usually the extent of it.
Back inside the sweaty club, Harry was beginning to regret not saying a thing to you at all. He’d watched you leave the club with your friends and he suddenly just wanted to go home. “Tough luck, mate,” Louis sighed, smiling sadly at the deflated boy before him.
Fortunately for Harry, he noticed something on the table of the booth you’d just been sat at. It was a set of keys. He quickly snatched them up and ran out after you. There was hope for him yet. He ran down the street after you. Thankfully, due to Eileen’s stumbling, you’d yet to get too far. “Excuse me!” he called. “Excuse me, I think you dropped your keys!”
It was you who turned back to look at him. His arm was outstretched, the keys between his fingers. You thanked him as he dropped them into your hand. Once he straightened his back from being hunched over, trying to catch his breath, and his face became illuminated by a streetlamp, did you realise who he was. Harry Styles. You didn’t say anything, though. You assumed he probably got enough of people telling him who he was on the daily that he wouldn’t need an extra one from you. He reached out to shake your other hand, “I’m Harry.”
“I know,” you smiled. “Y/N.”
He grinned. Y/N. He knew your name. Your hand was soft against his. You were wearing this black dress, or maybe it was blue. It was too dark to tell. Your lips were red, maybe pink. You smelt of strawberries. “I think you look really pretty,” he said, thankful it was so dark to hide the red tint that graced his cheeks.
You smiled politely, trying to ignore the sniggering of Nelly and Eileen from behind you. “Thank you, Harry.”
He nodded, unsure what to say next. But he knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip from his grasp. “Can I have your number?” he asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Of course you weren’t going to just give him your number.
You shrugged, “I don’t even know you.”
That wasn’t necessarily true. Your younger brother had given you a full debrief on the members of One Direction last time you’d gone back home to visit your family. He’d made sure not to miss a single detail. So, yes, you did know him. Not personally, of course. But it felt personal. He hung his head, “Yeah. Of course. Why would you trust me?”
You knew he wasn’t saying it in an aggressive or sarcastic way. Really, why would you trust him? You sighed, “You’re famous?”
It was a joke. You were joking. And it took him a split second to laugh. Well, he chuckled, really. “I’ll give you my number if you write a song about me,” you smirked. Again, you were kind of joking. And yet, he nodded.
“Deal.”
20 november, 2013
And write a song about you he did. You found yourself tangled up in the sheets of his bed five days before his third studio album was set to be released. Two months you’d been together now, and they’d been perhaps the happiest of your life. Running your fingers delicately through his mop of hair, smiling contently as he closed his eyes in utter bliss. It should have been sunny outside, the golden rays practically pouring in through the windows of his flat. But alas, it was pouring with bitter rain. “I have to go soon,” he grumbled, nuzzling his tired face into your waist, wrapping his lethargic arms around your thighs.
You nodded, sighing, “I know, baby.”
“So much fucking press,” he groaned, forcing his eyes open. “Same fucking questions. What’s your favourite off the album? Who is this one written about? Are you single? Everyone’s in love with you, how does that feel?”
You smiled down at him softly, “Good thing you love talking about yourself then, isn’t it?”
He grinned, “Exactly. Just wish they’d ask something novel and somewhat fucking entertaining. Podcast or songs in the shower? Would you ever become a classical composer? Hardback or paperback?”
“What, and ‘podcast or songs in the shower’ is novel and somewhat fucking entertaining,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, a real exclusive for the journalists.”
He chuckled, dragging himself out of bed. He slipped into the bathroom, emerging in no time at all dressed in a t-shirt and some jeans. Unplugging his phone, he pressed his lips to yours. “I’ll see you later,” he said.
You threw the covers from your body, following him through the flat. Harry grabbed one of his coats, before hugging you tightly. “I love you.”
You pulled away quickly, staring up at him, eyes wide, “Really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess I do.”
“I guess I love you too.”
When he returned, it was dark. You were lying in his bed, your eyelids heavy. He crept in, kissing you lightly. “I wrote a song about you,” he whispered.
You smiled up at him weakly, “You did? You kept your end of the bargain.”
He nodded. And so, he played it for you. You were curled up in his bedsheets, listening to a song a guy had written about you. And it was pretty fucking good. “When did you write it?” you asked as it came to an end.
“A few nights after we met. Do you like it?” he asked nervously.
You nodded, grabbing his face to kiss him, “I love it. What’s it called?”
“Little Black Dress.”
07 january, 2014
Months passed. And every single one seemed to get better than the last. It felt as if you were high, right up in the clouds, every waking moment. But you were nervous. Your fingers were practically shaking. However, as soon as Anne opened the door to greet you both with her warming smile, the nerves just seemed to disappear. Vanish. She hugged you first, squeezing you tightly as if she’d know you all her life. She hugged Harry next, hurrying you both in.
The house was warm and cosy and oh so welcoming. There were pictures on the wall of Harry and Gemma as kids and some of Anne and Robin on their wedding day. You couldn’t help but smile at them. Harry noticed you admiring the snapshots of history that had been framed and hung up on the wall. “Cute, wasn’t I?” he joked, squeezing your hand.
You shrugged, “Not as cute as Gemma.”
You had met Gemma before. You’d gone out to dinner with her and Harry when he decided he wanted you to meet his family. She was lovely and too kind to you. But this was your first time meeting Anne and Robin. Their warm smiles and kind words did nothing but make you feel at home.
After chatting for a while, they let you and Harry get settled in. You’d be staying for a couple of days before heading back down to London. He showed you around his childhood bedroom, which did nothing but fill you with joy. “Nothing’s changed,” he smiled, eyes exploring the room that still made him feel like a kid again. “I love coming back. Brings me back down to earth, you know? Back to home. I know it’ll always be here, no matter where I go.”
“That’s poetic,” you said. His lips curved up slightly and when he pressed his lips to your head lightly, you couldn’t help but smile too. It almost felt illegal to be so innocently intimate in his childhood bedroom, filled with long-forgotten memories of a life once lived.
Later, as the sun set over the house that you already felt so welcomed in, you found yourself sat beside Harry in the kitchen. You’d become acquainted with the cats that inhabited the home and Anne’s gorgeous cooking. As Anne and Robin got to know you, you made sure to ask plenty of questions about them. The smile that adorned your face throughout the evening and the following days never seemed to fade or die away. And, by the end of your stay at Harry’s childhood home, you felt as if you’d known Anne and Robin all your life. As if you’d known the walls of the house all your life. And the pictures of youthful ignorances and watercolours of distant landscapes. And the cats that purred loudly as they ran their head along your legs the last thing before you slept and the first thing before you woke.
And you were sure you could revel in the feeling of warm, welcoming homeliness of the home and the family for the rest of your life.
12 october, 2014
Nelly had looked truly ravishing on her wedding day. The white dress was an unusual contrast to her jeans and sweaters. You were convinced there was nothing she couldn’t pull off. Harry had been hanging off your arm all evening, like a lost toddler. He’d acted like one too, making comments about being tired and his feet hurting all day. You paid no mind to him, though. This was Nelly’s day and she was your friend and you wanted to be there to support her. You’d known the girl since your first day of secondary school when you were both a mere eleven years old.
Eileen plopped herself down beside you, her eyes exploring the faces that were lost on her in the large hall. Everybody was mingling now, catching up with people they hadn’t seen since 2010. Her presence pulled you away from your hushed conversation with Harry. “I don’t even know who half of these people are,” Eileen sighed.
“That’s how it usually goes at weddings,” Harry replied, taking a sip of the provided champagne, slumping back in his chair slightly.
“Like, who even is that?” she sighed, gesturing subtly to an elderly man stood with Nelly and her mother.
You sighed, “That’s her granddad.”
“Oh,” Eileen said. “Are you sure? I thought her granddad died last year.”
“No, that was my granddad,” you chuckled. “That’s Nelly’s Granddad Joe.”
“If you say so,” she sighed, finishing the rest of her gin and tonic. “They all look the same to me. White hair, wrinkly.”
Harry stifled a snort at Eileen’s nonchalant tone. You patted her shoulder lightly, also amused. Eileen had a habit of growing very tired of boring occasions very quickly. It had happened numerous times before and it always cracked you up. She started up again, “I never mind the actual ceremony, like that’s somewhat interesting. It’s the mingling I can’t stand. We’ve been here for two hours, Nelly’s already married, why do people care about this stuff so much?”
“Because it’s nice to catch up with people,” you replied.
She lay her head down on your shoulder tiredly, “That’s what Facebook is for.”
Harry chuckled, “Well, she isn’t wrong.”
You tried so hard not to sigh so loudly, but it still came out louder than you perhaps would have liked, “Will you two at least pretend to give a shit? Eileen, this is our best friend getting married and you don’t care. We’ve known her for ten years, liven up. Harry, this is my friend and I want to celebrate with her. Just suck it up and deal with it. We’ll go soon.”
You were quite literally dealing with toddlers. You looked up when Nelly finally came and sat down at the table you’d been huddled around. She finished what was left of her drink and threw her head back. “I’m so tired,” she sighed. Even the bride was beginning to act like a two-year-old.
“I can imagine,” you offered her your best smile. “So, how does it feel to be married?”
“Relieving,” she explained. “But somewhat anticlimactic. My feet hurt and I’m sick of having to say hello to every single aunt, uncle, cousin, nephew, niece. Just to get told ‘oh, I never thought I’d see our Nelly get married’ or ‘my, haven’t you grown’? Yes, Linda, I have. Because it’s been seven years since you’ve last seen me, I’m not thirteen anymore.”
The three of you exchanged amused glances at Nelly’s grumbling. She was throwing her arms about, staring down at the white tablecloth that had a big wine stain in it. Your mother had knocked over her wine when explaining to Harry how much of a teacher’s pet you were in school. Obviously, you had to interject and explain that caring about grades didn’t equal a teacher’s pet. “Oh, you never thought you’d see your Nelly get married, did you? Well, maybe that’s because gay marriage was only legalised last year. Fucking disgusting,” Nelly went on.
Eileen quickly held up her hand, “Please, we’ve heard this rant before.”
Nelly sighed, glancing boredly at Eileen. You all sat in peaceful silence for a moment, comforted by the feeling of Harry’s large hand on your leg. When your mother finally came over, telling you she was heading off, you decided it was time for your departure too. So, congratulating Nelly and her new wife, Emma, on their marriage and beautiful ceremony and bidding farewell to those you were sure you wouldn’t see again until 2016, you and Harry ventured back to your little flat.
Once you were showered and out of the dress you felt so beautiful in, you tumbled into bed, happy to finally have those heels off. Harry’s suit was stranded across your bedroom floor in little piles of shirt and trouser and sock. “Can I perform at our wedding?” he asked, turning to look at you as you lay your head back against the inviting softness of your pillow.
His question and casual tone is what awoke all the life in you. You didn’t sit up dramatically and make a scene about it. You merely rolled over to face him directly, smiling softly at him, “Who said we’ll be getting married?”
He shrugged, “I think it’d be quite nice if we did one day.”
“Maybe,” you hummed, finding a wonderful level of contentment in the discussion of the future with Harry. “But you’re not performing at it.”
He chuckled, “Why not? Me and the boys. The lads and I. A bit of Up All Night? Some more recent stuff? Come on, Y/N, you’d love it.”
“Not when my new husband is singing with his little boyband.”
Hearing you refer to Harry as your ‘new husband’ certainly made him light up inside. And his head was suddenly filled with all sorts of fantasies of what it would be like to wake up beside you every day. To come home from a long day and order food in because neither of you could be bothered to cook. To get your first pet together, probably name it after a character in a show you were presently obsessed with. To raise a family together. To fight through the sleepless nights of infancy, but knowing it would all be worth it because, at the end of the day, he knew you’d always be there. Just as he’d always be there for you.
And he smiled, because he knew this was where he wanted to stay for as long as he can. With you.
15 may, 2015
It felt different waking up under the sun in Italy. Same sun, just… different. It was Italian. It was glorious. Perhaps it was the peacefulness of not having management drag Harry out of bed in the early hours of the morning. Perhaps it was the refreshing release of the pressures of university coursework. Perhaps it was the mere fact that you were completely alone with nobody to interrupt you.
Harry’s hair was splayed out across the cool silk pillows that rested quite perfectly on the bed you wished belonged to you. His tattooed arms were slung lazily over your body and the thin sheets had been kicked to the bottom of the bed in your sleep. It was something about being on holiday that always made you tired, despite doing nothing but reading or lounging about in the sun or splashing about in the pool.
He was snoring quietly, still sleeping soundly. You were happy, though, staring out the large floor-to-ceiling windows that replaced a wall of the bedroom in the villa you were staying at. It opened up onto the pool and had a simply marvellous view of the blue sea. It was a short walk into town, but you and Harry had made a point of exploring it all within the first three days so you could spend the rest of your overdue holiday cuddled up together in the sunlight.
When Harry stirred, his tired eyes still full of sleep, you finally sat up. He wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to pull you back down. You laughed, trying desperately to pry his fingers off your skin. “I’m getting up now,” you said happily.
“Don’t,” he grumbled, closing his sleepy eyes again. “Why get up when we can stay here forever?”
“Why stay here forever when we’re literally in Italy and there’s a pool outside?” you countered.
“But why go swim in the pool when we did that yesterday?”
You shook your head at him, laughing. You pulled yourself away from the bed that could only be described as heavenly. He watched you leave, smiling away to himself. Was this what it felt like to be in love?
Carrying a bowl of fresh strawberries, you wandered out into the garden of the villa. Soon enough, Harry joined you in his yellow shorts. Of course there had been paparazzi pictures of you and Harry exploring Amalfi, hands clasped together tightly. But, for once, you paid no mind to them. Usually, you found it hard not to stare at the pictures of you and Harry for hours, picking apart all the pixelated details of your face and body. You would be lying if you said it didn’t take a toll on you mentally. But, when you were able to turn your phone off for a week and just enjoy the world around you, it left you feeling refreshed and cleansed.
Harry sat himself down by the side of the pool, letting his legs swing between the cool ripples of water. He lay his head back, letting his eyes flutter shut. No words were exchanged, for none were needed. You were both in silent agreement that this was where you wanted to go when you died.
When you finished your strawberries and your lips and fingertips smelt suitably like them, you clambered up from the bench and slipped quietly into the pool. The water was contrastingly cold compared to the sun that beat down relentlessly but perfectly. You swam towards Harry, interlacing your strawberry-scented fingers with his own. He looked down at you, smiling brightly at the sight of such. “I love you,” he whispered.
You grinned, “I love you too.”
“I’d call it more of an unhealthy obsession with me,” he replied, shrugging jokingly.
You scoffed, “If anyone has an unhealthy obsession with someone, it’s you. Let’s go to Italy, you said, you can finish your uni coursework later. You begged me to come here with you.”
He smirked down at you, “Begged? You seemed pretty eager to me.”
“Well, you never have been very observant,” you joked, squeezing his hands tightly, before dragging him into the pool with you.
When he finally resurfaced, brushing his long hair out of his green eyes, he reached out to grasp you. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your body submerged in the water. Placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, he held you as if he was scared you were going to be pulled away from him. As if was the last time he would ever get to feel your skin against his own. “When we go home,” he whispered, “move in with me.”
You lay your head against his shoulder, softly closing your eyes. All you needed was the sound of his light breathing and the increased beating of his heart as he waited for any kind of indication of a response from you. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, equally as quiet.
You didn’t want to make a deal about moving in with Harry. The setting wasn’t right. You were holding each other tightly in the pool of an Italian villa in Amalfi, the world around you warm and serene. So, you agreed gently, buzzing violently inside at the prospect of all the adventures you and Harry could get up to living together.
02 july, 2016
You’d lived in Harry’s flat for a month before you both decided to buy your own house. It was a lovely home in Chelsea that you and Harry had simply fallen in love with when you first saw it. It felt perfect in the sunlight and in the pouring rain. But, as you both returned from going out for drinks after your university graduation ceremony, you were quickly irritated by the half-painted walls and flat-pack furniture.
A week or two prior to your graduation ceremony, you had both been sat at the island in the kitchen, when you both decided that you wanted to renovate the house. Maybe replace the grey walls in the living room with a forest green and swap out the black and white furniture for navys and mustards. The modern style of the house had been nice at first, but it quickly began to feel like less of a home and more of an office building. So, you decided to change it up a bit.
Harry recently got back from America after finishing some last-minute shoots on the new Christopher Nolan film he’d been cast in. While you’d visited him once when he was shooting in Dunkirk, you still felt eternally grateful to have him back home. And, while you could sit and hear him talk about what it was like working with Christopher Nolan and the likes of Tom Hardy and Kenneth Branagh, you grew increasingly stressed about graduating and renovating the house. But now the graduation was over and you were officially free of education. The renovation was well underway and you were actively seeking a job with your English literature degree. “Thank God that’s over,” you sighed, sitting down at the kitchen island after pouring yourself a glass of chocolate milk. “Finally free of the tiresome shackles that are higher education.”
He snorted at you, “I’m proud of you. Just think, you were only in your first year at university when we first met.”
You couldn’t help but smile. So much had changed in the last three years of your life. You were sat with your boyfriend, who had just come back from shooting a movie, in the kitchen of your own house in Chelsea, London having just come back from your university graduation ceremony. One of your closest friends was married and had been happily for coming up to two years. The other had just got herself into a relationship after ranting to you about how she wanted to stay single forever countless times before. Life was good and you were content in where you were for your age. Who wouldn’t be? You’d just broken into your 20s and were about to enter the brutal world of careers. “I miss your long hair,” you said suddenly, pouting slightly at the sight of Harry without his hair you’d grown so used to.
“I don’t. Dries so much quicker after showers,” he said. “Stays out of my face when I’m doing stuff. Doesn’t get knotted so easily. So many perks to shorter hair.”
“But you looked so hot with it,” you said, mocking a sad tone.
He smiled, “Don’t I look hot now?”
You shrugged, “You always look hot. Just less hair to grab now.”
His cheeks flushed and you couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so cheeky sometimes!”
“Just speaking the truth, your honour,” you raised your hands in surrender. “What shall we order in for dinner?”
“Up to you, it’s your day after all,” he smiled. “I’m just going for a shower, so just order me whatever.”
As he got up, he pressed his lips to yours briefly as he walked past, squeezing your shoulder. It was the domesticity of it that made you fall in love with him more and more. Late nights binging crappy tv shows and early morning leftovers and the moment of realisation that you’d forgotten to water the plants by the kitchen window. It was what you’d imagined the entire time you’d been with Harry. All of these hypotheticals that you had stored away in your mind were now your simply marvellous reality.
10 may, 2017
The topic of children had been brought up a few times before. You’d both agreed that you wanted them one day. Mid-twenties maybe, 25 or 26? You’d been together since you were both nineteen, but you were still young. That’s not to say that if you happened to fall pregnant now you’d be entirely opposed to becoming parents. Your house had long been finished and you had a decent job and Harry had his debut album and his film coming out.
But presently, you found yourself sat on the sofa, listening to Harry’s completed album. Anne was sat beside you, silently absorbing the masterpiece that her son had crafted. As Two Ghosts slowly became Sweet Creature, you felt yourself tear up, only to look over and find Anne in floods of tears. You knew, as you listened intently to the lyrics, it was Harry’s way of assuring you it was going to be okay. You didn’t need to worry about starting a family yet. You didn’t need to worry about arguing with him. It would all be okay in the end.
As the final note of From the Dining Table echoed across your living room, it was safe to say you and Anne were both desperate to hear it all again. Harry Styles being unapologetically himself was something you would be eternally proud of him for.
21 july, 2017
Maybe if you hadn’t gone to the Dunkirk premiere on Harry’s arm, you wouldn’t be feeling so uneasy. You were there to look nice and give the newspapers something to talk about the next morning. Always something about ‘HARRY STYLES AND LONG TERM GIRLFRIEND Y/N Y/L/N AT DUNKIRK PREMIERE’ which would be full of meaningless facts about your relationship, your education and career and family, who styled the two of you. Of course, you were excited to see Harry in a project he’d put so much life into and you were so proud of him. But it was when you and Harry were being interviewed that you began to feel uncomfortable.
It had started off fine with questions about what prompted Harry to star in a film, what it was like working with Christopher Nolan, that sort of thing. But, as usual, the interviewers managed to make smooth transitions into Harry’s personal life. “Y/N, you and Harry have been together since 2013, how does it feel to see him succeed on such a global scale?” one asked.
Your gaze shifted between Harry and the camera behind the interviewer, “Well, he’s happy, isn’t he? And, as long as he’s happy, I’ll always be proud of him.”
He couldn’t help but smile to himself at your answer, as did the interviewer, who knew they were getting some good footage. It wasn’t often you did publicity things. Obviously, you would have to be in certain places with Harry to spark some news articles, which were completely set up by Harry’s management. You didn’t mind that so much. But being asked about yourself and your relationship was something you didn’t like all that much. You’d go live on Instagram sometimes and you would get a couple of questions about Harry, which you were usually happy to answer. And if you felt uncomfortable answering them, you could just pretend you hadn’t seen it. But in real-life interviews, there was no escaping them and the hole the camera burnt into you. “So, you two have obviously been together for nearly five years,” another began, “is there any possibility of children in your future?”
Harry had been getting the kids question since he turned twenty, but this one seemed to make him flinch slightly. Maybe it was the recent tension you’d both been feeling about starting a family. Were you ready? Weren’t you? Should you get a home that wasn’t so central first? All these questions that neither of you knew the answers to. Maybe it was the recent loss of Harry’s stepfather and the ripple that had caused within the family. “I think we should get a cat before we have a child,” was your reply, your tone joking and your smile friendly, but your answer serious.
Harry chuckled, “I think we’re both still quite young and we’re both committed to our careers, so having a child right now would just be illogical and impractical. I think it’s healthy to focus on ourselves and our relationship for a few years more.”
But that wasn’t the last question about parenthood. And with each one, you began to feel the pressure of society to start a family more and more. It was actually such a relief to get into the cinema, sit down and just enjoy the film. When you finally got home and up into bed, you had to roll over and voice your thoughts to Harry. “Should we have a baby?” you asked quietly.
“Not if you’re not ready,” he replied in a hushed tone as if he’d been expecting you to bring such a topic up. And, truth be told, he had. He had watched your eyebrows furrow more every time you were asked about kids and your tone become an increasingly stronger mix of shakiness and aggressiveness.
“Everyone expects us to, Harry,” you said.
“Well, they’re not in our relationship. It’s your body, love, when you want a kid, we’ll have a kid.”
09 january, 2019
One year ago, you and Harry had decided to start trying for a baby. You had both reached a point in your lives where you were happy and comfortable. You decided it was the perfect time to start expanding your quiet little home. Neither of you were to know the stress that would come in the following months.
It had been a year. A year and not even a single sign of pregnancy. None of your periods were significantly late, you never felt the urge to throw up in the morning. No weird cravings, no weight gain.
You were round at Nelly’s house with Eileen. Her wife, Emma, was out for the day so Nelly had invited the two of you round. Six episodes deep into the latest craze of television, the three of you found more interest in conversation. “How’s Harry?” Eileen asked after she’d finished telling you about the new dog she and her boyfriend, Charlie, had adopted.
You sighed. You didn’t want to lie and say he was fine; that the two of you were fine. Because you weren’t. Every single negative pregnancy test resulted in an extra argument, more pressure and stress and lots more guilt on both ends. “Yeah, yeah, he’s good. We’re good,” you said.
“You’re such a liar,” Nelly laughed. “Tell us what’s wrong.”
Taking a deep breath, you prepared to explain everything to your friends. From the pressures of the media to the failure to conceive. The two girls sat and listened in silence, absorbing the piles of information you were presenting them with. And, when you were finally finished, Eileen said, “Maybe you should go to the doctors about that. If it’s been a year and you still aren’t pregnant, it might be something they can fix… you know, cure.”
“I’d rather not know if there’s something wrong with me,” you grumbled.
“I think you would. It would be better to know, right? As Eileen said, it might be something they have some pills for,” Nelly said.
“They have pills for everything,” you sighed. “But fine, I’ll go to the doctors. Only if you come with me.”
“Of course,” Nelly smiled softly as Eileen leaned over to squeeze your trembling hand. “Are you going to tell Harry?”
“I’ll tell him if something happens. If they say it’s nothing, then he doesn’t need to know,” you said quietly.
Nelly and Eileen exchanged a silent glance, before Eileen said, “It’s been a year, Y/N. It must be something.”
17 january, 2019
You sat nervously opposite the doctor. Your knee was bouncing and your heart rate can’t have been healthy. You had gotten up early, leaving Harry asleep in bed, to come and collect your results from the doctor. She smiled softly at you and it definitely made you feel more comfortable. “So, Y/N. Your results came back and it appears you have Diminished Ovarian Reserve, or DOR. Basically, you have a lower number or quality of eggs, which makes it harder to reproduce. Essentially, you don’t have as much reproductive potential left within your ovaries.”
Her words quickly became a ringing noise rooted deep within your ears. Your eyes fell from her own and found the horrible carpet on the floor far more comforting. You were alone now and you were beginning to wish you’d brought one of the girls or your mother or even Harry. “I-is there any kind of treatment?” you asked.
She leant back in her chair slightly, interlocking her hands on her lap, “We can prescribe some supplements, which will hopefully increase fertility. But if you want a child, there’s always adoption or we can even try IVF. It’s up to you, Y/N.”
You nodded, grabbing your coat from the chair beside you and slipping your arms into it. You thanked her quickly, taking the supplements and leaving. Everything seemed to pass you by in a blur. It took you a long time to collect your thoughts. And, as you reached your front door, it hit you that you were to blame for the lack of positive pregnancy tests. It was your eggs that were fucking it all up. You might even have a baby right now if it weren’t for you. You took a moment to wipe away the tears that were falling freely from your eyes. You rested your head against the front door before finally pushing your way through.
Harry was sat at the piano in the corner of the living room. He was still in his pyjamas and there was a glass of half-drunken orange juice on the coffee table. He didn’t turn to look at you when he heard you enter, he just said, “Morning, love. Where have you been? You weren’t here when I woke up.”
He was busy scribbling in his notebook to take any real interest in your whereabouts. This was the problem with the hole you and Harry had dug yourselves trying to conceive: nobody cared anymore. He didn’t care where you went or how you were. He didn’t care how your mother was. You didn’t care about how his day was. You didn’t care how his friends were getting on. Nobody cared anymore and it was driving you insane. “The doctors,” you said firmly, standing in the doorframe of the living room, waiting for him to turn around. To face you. To fucking look you in the eye and not be a coward for once in his life.
But alas, he didn’t. He kept his eyes trained on the scribbles of lyrics, “Oh yeah? How was it?”
“Shit,” you snapped. “It was fucking shit. I can’t have kids. We can’t have kids. If you cared to know.”
“How come?” he asked, his back paying you more attention than his eyes.
“Because, Harry, I’m fucking infertile. Okay? I’m infertile. I have Diminished Ovarian Reserve. So, we can’t have kids, so there’s no point in even trying anymore.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We can try again later.”
He wasn’t listening. He didn’t know what you were talking about. You finally snapped in that moment. You’d had enough of living like this. “Why are we trying, Harry?” you asked, the tears you’d tried so hard to hide resurfacing.
“Because I thought you wanted kids,” he replied.
“No, Harry. Why are we trying? With us. Neither of us cares about the other, we’re both miserable. You’d rather be anywhere but here. And I can’t stand this house any longer. We’re both fucking miserable so why are we still trying? Why are we still fighting for this? Why are we still fighting for a relationship that died months ago?”
He turned to look at you. The scribbling had stopped. The tinkering on the piano had stopped. He was silent. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that, so he didn’t think about it, “I am happy, love. Can’t you see?”
You shook your head, stepping back, “No, you’re not. You’re angry at me and you’ll only blame me because I can’t give us children. I need to leave, Harry.”
“What? Y/N, wait,” he said, but you’d already marched up the stairs to your bedroom. He knew you were packing your things up and what you couldn’t pack you’d come back for later. He knew he couldn’t stop you from leaving. He knew he’d be wrong for trying. Maybe you were right, maybe he was miserable, but he still loved you. God, he was so fucking in love with you. And now he was watching the girl he’d loved since he first laid eyes on her dancing in that club with her friends in 2013 walk out of his life.
When you came back down the stairs, some bags thrown over your shoulder, you stood in the doorway to get a final glimpse of him. He looked up, meeting your eyes. Your pretty eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. But he knew you weren’t apologising for the outburst. He knew you weren’t going to come crying into his arms and apologise profusely. He knew he wouldn’t have the chance to explain that they could work through it together. As they always had done before.
“Me too,” he said quietly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And you were gone. You did love him. You felt obliged to tell him so. But you needed to leave. You were being strangled in that relationship, in that house. And you knew he was too. You’d grown to resent each other, but you were sure you would love him forever.
13 april, 2021
The baby gurgled loudly, clasping your hair between his fingers. You smiled down at the little miracle in your arms. He was only six months old. But what a little bundle of joy he was. You looked up at the sight of Eileen emerging from the shop, tucking her mask into her pocket, “Thanks for taking care of him.”
You handed him back to his mother. You had swiftly agreed to look after baby Oliver while Eileen ducked into a shop to buy Charlie his birthday present. You both wandered through the hot streets of London, patrolling the fresh fruit market that radiated a vast variety of marvellous scents. Oliver was asleep, the sun making him tired. You liked the little world you’d built up for yourself since 2019. You were a couple of years older with a flat of your own, with plants you still forget to water. And yet, you couldn’t help the prideful smile that took over your features when you heard that Harry had won a Grammy. Any bitterness you’d felt for him soon dissipated. It was your fault for the collapse of your relationship as much as it was his.
But, when you saw Harry Styles purchasing some fresh strawberries just a few metres away, it all came flooding back. A tsunami of forgotten memories. You felt like a young and innocent university student who fell in love too quickly again. Maybe that was the reason you approached him. As he turned to leave the stand, his eyes connected with yours. You smiled softly, “Hi, Harry.”
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azriel x reader mates
slow dancing plzz that would be so cute
Pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)
Warnings: mentions of scars but asides from that just pure studio ghibli inspired fluff
A/n: I had this idea agessss ago and then forgot abt it but this anon reminded me!! I used Home!Az for this but you don’t need to read the series to understand it I don’t think, it’s just for world building and stuff. I’m also linking the song I imagined for it :)) hope you enjoy!!!! (Also I’m too tired to proof read so sorry if it’s shit)
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You woke up to Azriel pressing kisses into your neck, his hands softly trailing along your body, so gently as if you were made of glass. You had been with him for almost a year now, the rings glinting on your hands when they caught the light, and the scars on your back no longer a weight. Instead something you showed freely, as a symbol of your strength.
You cracked open an eye and watch as Azriel lifted his head with a soft smile, a scarred hand coming to caress your face.
“Happy birthday flower,” he whispered and you giggled, kissing him deeply, no longer surprised at how easily the smile came onto your face.
“Mmm morning handsome,” you said, pushing up on your forearms as Az arranged the pillows behind you for you to lean against. He settled beside you before passing you a steaming mug of black coffee, picking up his own as he kissed your shoulder, the tip of one of the scars, your neck, cheek, and then finally mouth. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you snuggled into his side, sipping your coffee and sighing in content at the taste.
“Why are you up so early?” You asked, head tilting to look at him, swathed in shadows and with the light stubble you had come to find out grew back pretty much every third day. He ran a hand over his chin before answering.
“Had a couple things to prepare,”
“What are you preparing for?” You asked and he looked at you, horrified.
“Your birthday of course,”
“Oh yeah, whoops,”
“How did you already forget?” He asked frowning slightly, this was the first birthday he got to celebrate with you and he was determined to make it special but you didn’t seem to fully remember it was a celebration.
“It’s like 8am leave me alone,” you elbowed him in the stomach and he laughed.
“Actually it’s half seven but I’m on strict orders to have you at the town house by eight,” you frowned and he kissed you gently, taking your mug from your hands and putting it on the bedside table.
“But that gives me at least twenty minutes to make you fall apart.” He smirked wolfishly as he settled between your legs.
—
It was half eight by the time you arrived at the town house, legs slightly aching and Azriel smug as a thief.
After a slight telling off from Rhys, filled with warm expressions and then a five minute hug from Cassian followed by a ten minute hug from Mor, you were sat around the table. The plates in the middle were filled with pancakes and fruit, mugs of steaming coffee and glasses of fresh juice. There were flowers in the middle of the table and blue and gold balloons designed in an arch. You had cried when you saw it and had another long hug, this one from Feyre, Azriel and Rhys dragging you apart.
After you had eaten, head already slightly lighter from the champagne Mor had lovingly filled your glass with, you sat around the living room as you opened your presents.
You cried much more than you probably should have, overly emotional because of the kind family you had found.
Feyre had gifted you a long, sage green dress that you swore you recognised, she winked at Azriel as you opened it and you furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what they were up too.
You were given books, weapons, expensive jewellery from Amren (who decided you needed more than the crystals you kept around your neck) and enough drink to last you a lifetime, or maybe a week or two from the way Cassian was eyeing it up.
When you were finished opening your presents, none from Azriel who had sparkling eyes as he watched you, his family as in love with you as he was.
“I’m presuming you two are heading off now, what time will you be back do you think?” Rhys asked, waving his hand to dispose of the wrapping paper that was piled around you.
“We are?” You turned to face Azriel and he grinned at you.
“We are, but we’ve to get changed first. You should wear that dress,” he nodded to the green one in your lap and you smiled at Feyre.
“That’s a good idea, am I getting told where we’re going?” You asked and he just shook his head, standing as you laughed and went to hug your friends goodbye.
“We’ll probably be back around 7.” Azriel told Rhys.
“Okay well enjoy!” You finished hugging Nesta as Azriel wrapped an arm around your waist, winnowing you back to your home.
“Go get changed, you won’t need a jacket, I’ll meet you gear in half an hour,” he kissed you lightly before shoving you off in the direction of your room gently, and you giggled, excited to find out what he was planning.
—
Thirty minutes later you were stood in your new dress, your hair down and some simple brown pumps on. You saw Azriel walk towards you, holding a picnic basket in one hand as you gaped at him.
“You look so good, holy fuck!” You exclaimed, he was wearing his usual black trousers but had a loose, white shirt tucked into them, and upon further inspection an earring with a dangling emerald hanging from one ear, his face freshly shaven. “Since when have you had your ears pierced?” You asked and he laughed.
“Since yesterday, never trust Cassian with delicate things,” he joked and you furrowed your eyebrows, still confused what he was doing. “Have you got your phone?” He asked and you nodded, your phone, speaker and Polaroid camera tucked carefully into a bag you had slung over your shoulder.
“Perfect, let’s go,” he grabbed your hand and before you could ask where he was taking you he had winnowed the two of you away.
You took in your surroundings, tears forming in your eyes as you realised what was going on.
You were stood in a green pasture, the sun whinging brightly above you, a stream flowing past you and the ground completely covered in flowers. You turned to Azriel as you took in his outfit.
“I do listen when we watch movies,” he said as you let out a choked sob, “Now (y/n), may I have this dance,” he held out his hand as he took your phone from his bag, playing the theme from howls moving castle as you nodded, taking his hand as it came through the speaker you had brought.
He kept his wings flared behind him as he twirled you around, the dance fast but intimate, you felt like you were flying as he twirled you around, your dress floating in the breeze as he spun you gently. He lifted you above him at one point as you moved together, watching you with so much love before dipping you as the song ended, kissing you deeply.
When the song ended he wrapped his arms around your waist as your linked around his neck, swaying you slowly to the song. You could feel his heart beat against your own chest, interlinking you fingers and allowing the flowers that were surrounding you to grow and bloom.
“Thank you,” you whispered against his mouth as he grinned, kissing you gently.
“Happy birthday baby,”
He stepped back to the picnic basket and lay out the blanket and food, helping you sit down as you leaned against him, taking a Polaroid of the two of you and hiding it in the basket to let it develop while Azriel stared in wonder at the technology.
“Let me give you your presents.” He said in between feeding you chocolate strawberries and you turned to him with wide eyes.
“There’s more?!”
“Of course baby, gotta treat my best girl,” he pulled a selection of neatly wrapped boxes from another bad he had brought and you smiled as you bit into a bit of baklava.
You opened a set of of deep blue lingerie first, gasping at the intricate material and looking up to see him watching you with a devilish smirk. The you found a collection of books from his world he thought you would love, more candles and crystals.
The final box wasn’t wrapped like the rest however, instead it was a plain cardboard box that said ‘from pepper’ in black writing on the top and you gasped.
“You didn’t!” Your eyes were wide as he laughed.
“Open it!” He demanded and you felt your heart pound as you carefully opened the box, pulling out another glass box which contained Tony Starks arc reactor, the words “proof that Tony stark has a heart” engraved in as your eyes watered.
“I had it made after we finished endgame,” he explained as you leapt on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Thank you, for everything,” you whispered into his neck and he kissed your head. Holding you tightly for the rest of the afternoon, red wine flavoured kisses on sun kissed skin. The two of you lay in each other’s arms, Azriel taking you apart slowly under the sun, then flying you over the hills as you squealed, gripping close to him as he dipped and twirled.
When it was finally time to retire for the day he held you closely, the picnic basket clutched in one hand as you balanced your gifts in your arms, kissing you deeply and winnowing the two of you home. You placed your gifts down gently on the bed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting gently upon your shoulder as he kissed your neck. You turned in his arms, facing him and kissed him again.
“I love you, more than anything,” you whispered against his mouth.
“I love you more,” you giggled at him as you pulled away, ready to spent the night with your new family, your beloved mate holding you close.
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Locked -
Taehyung
Smut with Taehyung in Paris what could be better? 19+
Happy Birthday Taehyung! You are my sun my moon and all of my stars.
Part of the The Juis Suis Fou de Toi Universe.
Artist Tae AU. 4213 words.
While convincing his girlfriend he should paint her, things get a little sexually abstract.
Contains sex (M/F), Oral (M) Mutual Masturbation (M/F), Swearing, Slight Dom Tae, OC is insecure. Do not be fooled before the read more, there is no cheating in this fic.
"We're almost home, please don't make me carry you."
Yeontan looked up with big eyes as he defiantly sat in the middle of the sidewalk. Crouching down to his level in defeat you tore a piece of your pastry off and began bargaining.
"It's strawberry your favorite, you can have some if you just stand up."
He let out a little bark seemingly in agreeance with the bribe and stood, tail wagging frantically.
"Tannie," Taehyung scooped the excited dog into his arms while placing a kiss on your cheek.
"Camille, this is my girlfriend Y/N and this," Yeontan wiggled in his arms while licking his face, "is Tannie."
"Oh, Hi."
Shocked you took in the tall gorgeous blonde who accompanied you boyfriend. Why Taehyung was walking around the streets of Paris with her you were unsure, and honestly not very happy.
"It's really nice to meet you Camille."
Suddenly feeling self conscious you pulled your coat tighter around yourself.
Taehyung, noticing the sudden shift in your mood wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Camille is helping me with the gallery opening. We were going to grab some dinner before we started. Do you want to join us?"
Your mind raced, what do you do? He hadn't invited you in the first place so obviously you'd be intruding.
If you stayed he'd be looking at you side by side, comparing Pomme to Pomme De Terre. But, if you left they'd be alone, getting to know one another or worse. Maybe they already knew each other better than they should.
In either scenario your insecurities would be winning.
"Tannie's getting pretty tired and I was going to stop at the Butcher to grab us dinner." Your eyes fell on his searching for guilt and found nothing but adoration. "But I guess you've already got plans so I'll just catch up with you later."
He passed the dog back to you, a new look of concern on his face.
"Okay, I guess I'll just see you at home later," he kissed your cheek.
"Bye Tannie, bye Y/N."
The woman smiled and looped her arm through Taehyung's as they walked towards the cafe.
"That doesn’t mean anything right Tan? It’s just a French thing I’m sure.” You must be going crazy standing in the street talking to your dog. “So, how do you feel about stopping for some wine?"
You frowned at your four legged companion and for once he seemed sympathetic offering a head tilt and a whimper.
"Don't worry, you can have his Steak."
Walking home in a daze you searched your memory, had he told you about this? Taehyung liked to work alone, surely you'd remember him mentioning he'd hired an assistant.
Your feet had suddenly become as tired as your mind. The blue mansard roof of your apartment peeked through the greenery of the blowing trees urging you forward, calling you home.
Rounding the last corner, the Pont Des Arts had been covered in gaudy yellow caution tape. In the hour and a half you'd been out, workers had begun pulling off rail sections of the love locked bridge.
You felt dizzy, was this a sign? The lock that you'd placed on it signifying your commitment was being taken away. Helpless you stood watching thousands of couples promise's to one another being disassembled.
Pulling your phone from your satin lined pocket your first instinct was to text Taehyung.
Y/N: I can't believe it, they're dismantling the bridge and taking away our lock 💔 I'm so sad Taehyung, It really meant so much to me.
Tears rolled down your cheek as you reevaluated the message. Instead of hitting send you deleted and replaced your words
Y/N: The bridge is under construction, maybe take a different way home later.
You hadn't heard him come home and had no idea how late he'd been out. With sadness and worry getting the best of your brain, sleep seemed like the only way to curb your anxiety. It had been quite an effective method until you found yourself wide awake tiptoeing through your house in the wee hours of the morning.
The worn floorboards creaked underneath your slow step, the vintage wood was cold to the touch of your bare feet. The old apartment was drafty on the best of days but 4 am carried its own specific type of chill.
A shiver ran up your spine, perhaps one of Le Marais famous revolutionary ghosts had joined in on the quest to find your boyfriend. Or maybe it was just the ominous feeling in the pit of your stomach that the universe was trying to tell you something.
A faint light glowed yellow under the warped door at the end of the hallway and the sounds of Thelonious Monk's piano drifted through the air the closer you got.
The painted metal door handle gave way opening to a wall of heat from the radiators lining the enormous windows.
"Go figure I'd find you in the warmest room in the house."
He was shirtless and seemingly debating the fate of the canvas before him. With his paintbrush clenched between his teeth he turned, a huge smile warming you instantly.
"Why aren't you in bed?" He set the brush down and walked over to wrap you in his embrace.
"I don't like sleeping without you, you're the only thing that keeps me warm in that freezer of a bedroom."
You stood on your tiptoes to place a peck on his lips.
"What are you working on? Is it for the gallery?"
He sighed heavily, "Just another Lavender Field I guess. I'm so uninspired. Why won't you just let me paint you, hmm?"
His fingers splayed over the lace covered small of your back pulling you in tighter. "What are you so afraid of."
"Tae," you buried your face into the crook of his neck. "Isn't the point of art painting things that people want to look at? You should be painting women like Camille not me."
Pressed to his chest you swear you heard his breath halt. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully before he spoke softly.
"Camille is pretty but there is absolutely nothing unique or inspiring about her."
He kissed the top of your head before tugging on your chin to make you look at him.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, but you are a terribly uncooperative muse."
"I don't want to be Tae, I'm just afraid"
"What is there to be afraid of? It's just you and me, If you don’t like it I'm the only one who will see it."
"That's it though, what if…" a tear slipped from your eye, "What if you don't like what you see, what if painting me makes you see all my flaws. I can't stand looking in the mirror for 5 minutes and you want to immortalize my every imperfection on a canvas."
His face was soft and serious, the lights from the city streaming through the large windows across his honey skin.
"Sweetheart, how do I make you believe me? I never want you to be uncomfortable but I think if I can show you how you look through my eyes you'll understand what my heart sees every time I look at you.”
Stepping back from him you nodded. Sliding the thin straps off your shoulders you stepped out of the white lace puddle that now lay at your feet.
"Okay."
His face lit up like he'd received divine inspiration.
"I have an idea."
He scurried for a palate, squeezing colors on it like a man possessed. Rummaging for the right brushes he returned presenting them to you like a cat who'd dragged home a mouse.
"Trust me?"
You nodded, "I do."
Loading his brush with paint you stood waiting for him to lay the first stroke to the oversize canvas leaning on the wall beside you.
Raising the tool to his mouth he exhaled a warm breath over it as if trying to take the chill off.
"I've never seen this technique before"
"It's because I've only just invented it."
He ran the paintbrush down your torso sending a shiver from head to toe.
You gasped, "You're not just painting me... you're literally painting Me?"
The biggest smile overtook his face, "You said you trusted me."
Trying to remain still and not ask questions you watched him work. Diligently mixing colors and trading brushes his design slowly revealed itself.
"Are you painting me as starry night?"
He stepped back to admire his work. "Like the stars, you guide and inspire me. I think it captures your spirit."
He shifted the canvas so it was flat to the wall.
"Come over here." He reached for your hand, "Are you ready? I want you to press yourself against it."
"Here?"
Sliding in close behind you he raised your arms into position, holding them up.
"Like this, right here."
His breath felt hot on your skin and your nipples hardened with his words. Gently he used his body weight to press you onto the canvas.
"Now step back to me slowly."
Pulling back, the paint had transferred to the canvas. It was stamped with starry breasts, stomach and thighs, it was you and it was beautiful. He dragged his lips down your shoulder as you stood looking at it.
"Now let's do the right side."
You repeated the process but this time you could feel him growing hard against you. His hands trailed down your sides and his lips moved warm against your ear.
"You've never been sexier."
His rumbles of admiration set your insides on fire.
"Taehyung I want you."
All the gentle brush strokes and touching had left you aroused aching for him to fill you.
"Do you need me to take care of you baby?"
He slid his cloth covered cock over your bare ass, grinding, teasing, slowly torturing your needy cunt.
"Fuck you until you're screaming my name?"
Sliding two long fingers deep inside you he held them there motionless.
Leaning over you, dominating, he growled into your ear.
"Show me how you like it, fuck my fingers like you want to fuck my cock."
You clenched immediately around his digits and he laughed, "that's my dirty girl, now use me to make yourself feel good."
Throbbing wet and desperate you used his hand to pleasure yourself. Harder and deeper it felt good but it wasn't him.
"Tae, It's not enough I need your cock."
He snickered again, "why is that, maybe you should tell me."
He reached his free hand around to pinch your nipple.
The truth was, nothing could satisfy you once you'd had him inside you. He was huge and perfect and he knew how insatiable you were for him.
"I need you to stretch me, wanna feel you against my cervix fucking me so hard."
You sounded whiny and it flipped the switch inside him from teasing to wanting instant gratification.
Pulling his hand away from your breast he undid his pants and kicked them away. His erection fell against your ass as he pressed you back to the center of the canvas.
"Right here, arms up for me."
You did as you were told as he took a stance behind you lining himself with your entrance. He could be the most generous gentle lover when needed but right now you both wanted something animalistic and dirty.
Thrusting hard and deep your whole body slid in an upward motion streaking the paint vertically onto the canvas.
"Fuck."
It was pleasure, it was pain and it was satisfying to your core.
"Is that enough for you?" His large hand feel heavy against your ass.
"Harder."
"Such a greedy little girl you are."
Another thrust and you were seeing stars. Splayed across the canvas your cheek dragged through the midnight blue acrylic.
Trying to desperately catch your breath your mouth hung open panting the words fuck me and faster while he pumped furiously into you.
His fingertips traveled from their grip on your hip to the protruding bud engorged with arousal that lay starved for attention between your thighs. He pressed and rolled your clit softly in contradiction to the rough pounding your pussy was taking.
"Tae."
His name moaned out of your mouth and it was the only signal he needed to know he'd done his job. He slowed his hips and pulled you down impaling you onto his cock until your walls convulsed around him. He held you there, still for a minute until your senses had come back and you were able to stand on your own.
His mouth hung open in a grin while his erection still stood hungry for more.
Pulling the canvas from the wall he laid it on the ground.
"I think this painting needs some pretty little knee marks on it."
"Show me where." It was your turn to tease.
He pointed where he wanted you to kneel and shoved his finger into your mouth.
"Right there, and right here," he stroked your tongue with his thumb.
He pulled his finger away and rubbed his tip around your lips.
Opening up wide for him he gently began fucking your mouth. Head was always a challenge given his size so it was never rushed.
Gingerly you wrapped your hands around him stroking the length that didn't fit in your mouth. His head was thrown back, eyes closed as puffs of air heaved from his chest in pleasure.
He was getting close, his now careless thrusts began making you choke around him.
"Fuck, sorry," he pulled back.
You kitten licked and sucked at his tip while he wrapped his hand tightly around himself and began rubbing.
You looked up at him from the position on your knees. His beautiful body was covered in paint splatters everywhere it had connected with yours
"Fuck Tae, I love watching you touch yourself."
"Yeah?" he took a long stroke thumbing the tip.
"Yeah," you could feel yourself getting worked up again.
"Lay back. "He stood over you, "Can you see how beautiful I think you are now?" His hands wandered between his legs and he rubbed his balls with one while he resumed stroking with the other. "How sexy I think you are?"
His words washed over you, arousal peaking you nipples.
"When I can't find inspiration I imagine you just like this and I masturbate thinking about your perfect tits."
Your pussy was pulsing at the thought of him in here clearing his head by milking himself.
"Can you touch yourself for me? Give my imagination something to use next time I'm stuck in here?"
You nodded, breath heavy in anticipation of cumming again for him.
"Stick your fingers in your pussy for me."
You did, moaning instantly. You were sensitive, every nerve was lit like a fuse ready to explode. Pumping your fingers in time with his strokes you were both unravelling quickly.
His exasperated breathing got louder signaling his immanent release. Picking up speed he came in warm droplets that landed on you and over the canvas on which you lay.
So turned on watching him you finished your own orgasm mere seconds after he did.
Opening his eyes looking down at you shocked he smiled, "Did we just do that?" He held out his hand to help you up.
"Yeah, I think we did." you blushed.
Grabbing a clean drop cloth from the shelf he draped it around you as you both stood looking over the painting.
"It's really not bad, I can still make out the important parts. The way the stars smeared looks intentional like their shooting through the sky."
Laughing you shook your head, "It's definitely an abstract."
"As are you," he turned you to the mirror. Painted cheeks, wild hair, dried yellow stars flaking off the skin of your stomach.
"Let's go out!” He abruptly declared. “I want to see you all messy and fucked out with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop."
"You're crazy Taehyung, What will people think?"
"They'll think they're in Paris and that an artist and his muse just made wild passionate love in the wee hours of the morning because they couldn't stand to keep their hands off of one another."
He grabbed his coat from the corner and tied the belt tightly around your waist.
Placing his hands on your cheeks and cradling your face his lips pressed and lingered against yours.
"They'll think, that must be what true love looks like and they’ll all be jealous."
Taking leisurely steps across the bridge the quiet of dawn was only broken by the water lapping beneath you. The absence of the locks amplified the little wakes and you tried to mentally record them as one of the many new memories you'd made tonight.
Coffee in one hand and Taehyung's in the other. He pulled pieces of chocolatine from the bag tucked under his arm and fed them to you as you walked.
"I don't think I'm ever going to get over the fact you don't like coffee." You took a big sip.
"It's strategic. If I had to hold a coffee and the pastry bag I wouldn't be able to hold your hand."
He stopped abruptly lightly jarring your arm.
"Hey, Did you know that right here, this is the exact spot we first met."
His dark eyes reflected the lamplight just like they did as he looked at you that night.
"You were leaning over the rail," he pointed, "right here, waving to the passengers in the boats."
"Ughh, I was such a tourist." You laughed in retrospect.
He took the coffee from your hand and set it on the base of the lamppost.
"Go pose for me, I want to take your picture so I can paint you from the night we met, I'll even add the locks back in."
"It won't be the same." You sighed, "I'm covered in paint, my hair's a mess and all I have on is your trench coat."
"You're crazy if you think I don't remember everything about the way you looked. How that loose strand of hair fell," he tucked your hair behind your ear, "and still falls over your eye. You had on that green sweater, I remember It was so soft against my fingertips when I reached out to hold your hand.”
He kissed you and whispered, "Let me have that moment again."
"You're such a hopeless romantic my love." You smiled fondly and obliged. Leaning over and looking down you re-enacted the opening scene of your meeting.
After a few minutes of waving to an imaginary boat you turned giggling. "Did you get what you wanted?"
He was kneeling on the ground a few feet away looking pensive.
"Almost."
"Do you want me to do it again?"
His smile grew as his hand reached into his pocket and he held up what appeared to be a padlock.
"No," He paused. "I want you and I to be locked together forever."
Turning back towards the rails you inspected them closely. "I don't think we can Tae, they pretty much made them lock proof." By the time you'd spun back to face him he was standing beside you.
His large hand was wrapped around the lock with only little glimmers of metal peeking out.
"But this is a magic lock. I'm going to give you the key and you're going to have to make a decision, just like when we first met." He pressed the lock's pronged companion piece into your palm while simultaneously unfurling his fingers.
"Marry me?"
Shocked floored, not even an ounce of intuition had told you this was coming. Hooked onto the shackle an enormous pear shaped diamond awaited your answer.
"Tae," your hand shook and tears blurred your vision as you moved to free the ring from it's restraint.
"Of course, Yes." Turning the key Taehyung pulled the lock apart and slid the diamond onto your finger.
Under the lamp, on the bridge in the middle of Paris it was like lightning had struck twice. You stood kissing the man who'd once again changed your life.
"But what are we going to do with the Lock?" The bridge was stark under the first rays of sunrise and heartbreakingly void of the promises it once guarded.
"So superstitious." He put the lock back in his pocket. "You're just going to have to hold on to that key until the time is right."
Fresh paint overwhelmed your senses. Guiding you with his large hands he steered you forward for what felt like forever.
"Is the blindfold necessary?"
"In order to surprise you, yes, yes it is."
He'd been working hard on his new exhibition and it had been kept tightly under wraps. One advantage of sleeping with the artist was the private advanced viewing from the curator himself.
"Are you ready?" he stilled you adjusting your angles. "Hold out your hand."
"Oh, it's an interactive piece?" you chided him. "I agree to do one painting and suddenly we're Marina and Ulay."
Placing something that felt like cool metal into your palm he slipped the blindfold off.
Before your eyes stood a huge section of railing, thousands of padlocks adorning it. Behind the rail, a life size painting, a girl in a green sweater. Leaning forward she waved, looking happy, as her hair blew softly. Her eyes naïve, not knowing she was about to fall in love.
The words on the wall named the piece, "Locked"
"Tae," a tear fell in awe at his recreation. "You made me look beautiful."
"No mon petite, you make you look beautiful. Do you have your key?"
Lifting the chain from around your neck you held it up for him.
"Let's find our lock. It was closer to the top if I recall correctly."
"There's no way? This isn't a recreation? This is the real bridge?"
He laughed, "I know what it meant to you. They were selling pieces for charity. That's what I was really doing with Camille that day. She's a broker for the auction house."
The memory of your insecurities came back in a flash and your cheeks blushed pink at how foolish the notion of him straying seemed now.
"Here it is!" He crouched down holding it in his hand, your inked initials a little worn but still visible.
Slipping your key into the new lock you popped it open and knelt down beside him. Hooking it through the original it stood out higher than the rest and you both smiled.
"You're stuck with me now, triple locked." He fiddled with your ring suddenly shy.
"I don't need metaphors to know we'll be together forever Taehyung." You kissed his soft lips. "but I really like them."
The gallery had been taken over by a hum of excitement, the air hanging heavy, was full of compliments and bids. Everyone was clamoring for the chance to own a Kim Taehyung original.
You hadn't seen the man of the hour in a while. You'd been kept dutifully in one spot regaling everyone with the romantic story behind the girl waving on the bridge.
Finally breaking away you grabbed a glass of champagne from the nearest waiters tray and made your way to the back of the gallery. He stood by a painting you'd yet to see with an eclectic looking woman in large red framed glasses. Her bangle bracelets chimed together as she theatrically asked him questions about his work.
Noticing you moving towards him, his face pleaded silently with you to come to his social rescue.
"Ah, the girl in the Green Sweater!" She pulled you into her side grabbing and holding your hand. "Are you also The Reluctant Muse?" she pointed to the secretly cum splatterd piece.
Taehyung held back his smile, biting his lip.
"Yes, I guess I am."
"The abstract way he displayed your body, it's very sexy. You know I used to be someone's muse." She patted the back of your hand. "From the size of this ring I'm guessing you're not nearly as reluctant anymore."
Knocking back your champagne you reached for another, "I'm currently working on lowering my inhibitions."
Focusing back on Taehyung she continued, "I simply have to have this painting, it reminds me so much of my younger days."
He shook his head to reinforce what he was about to say. "Unfortunately this one has already been curated to a private collection." He winked nodding discreetly in your direction.
"Don't be silly, I'll give you $20,000."
You choked on your drink surprised while he reiterated his statement.
"I'm sorry, It's just a very special painting to me."
You had to interject, "Let's not make any hasty decisions."
Taehyung raised a scolding eyebrow, "The piece is simply priceless, I've put too much of myself in it to sell."
You smirked at his secret admission. "What if," feeling emboldened with confidence you put forth the suggestion, "we make it a series?"
Taehyung's eyes lit up as you explained.
"It'll be one of a kind, just for you madam."
Her bangles declared her excitement as she clapped. "Yes, I love that! But I have two conditions."
Leaning forward you both eagerly waited.
“I want extra splatters, I really like the way they look. And I'm going to need it finished in time for my party next week.”
Taehyung shook the woman's hand and grinned proudly at you.
"No problem, we'll start working on it tonight."
#taehyung smut#tae#bts smut#bts#Tae#V#JSFDT series#This is part 2 to an unwritten part 1 because my brain sucks
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🎄31 Days of Recs - @comebackassholes 🎄
Crave
“Hello, I’m Louis Tomlinson, it’s nice to meet you.” There’s a little bit of shakiness to his voice, but Louis is still proud he didn’t lose his cool right then and there.
The other man grins, his dimple poking out in the most beautiful way, stretching his own hand out to shake Louis’. It’s warm and inviting, just like Louis remembers the rest of his body being. Louis swallows hard.
“I’m Harry Styles. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Tomlinson.” And God. That voice. That deep, deep voice. Louis has to close his eyes for a second before his dick gets hard right in the middle of the conference room. The way Harry says Louis’ name, sort of teasing, like he knows exactly what he’s doing makes Louis want to put him over his lap and give him a good spanking for behaving that way.
*
All eyes are on Louis Tomlinson to bring new talent to save Hanover Records from the mess the previous executive left behind. His newest artist, Harry Styles, is charismatic and everything Louis needs to revive the label. It’s up to Louis and his team to make Harry the star he was born to be. When Harry and Louis come face to face, it isn’t the first time they’ve met, and their worlds are about to be turned upside down.
Until I Found You
Harry Styles is the popstar of the century, or so the media proclaims. He’s linked to every omega he’s seen with, donned as an alpha lothario who isn’t ready to settle down any time soon. His team works hard to publicise him as an alpha who can’t keep his knot in his pants, but not everything is as it seems.
Louis Tomlinson, an aspiring musician working as a porn star and camboy, is waiting for his big break. When he meets Harry Styles he can’t stand the alpha that only uses his power and fame to bed as many omegas as possible. He runs into him at a party and hopes to never see him again only to find that Harry’s assistant is dating Louis’ best friend. To make matters worse, Harry’s about to embark on a world tour and is in need of a guitarist at the last minute, an opportunity Zayn uses to put in a good word for Louis.
What happens when the opportunity that Louis has been waiting for finally comes, but at the price of having to share the stage with one Harry Styles?
Dom Louis Series
Dear Mr. Louis,
Hello. I’m Harry. I got your contact from a good friend of mine and was wondering if I can get your services. My 30th birthday is coming up and all I’ve ever wanted is to get spanked, maybe more?
If you’re interested, please contact me. I’d love to hear from you.
Sincerely,
Harry
Marcel reads over the words. He guesses there isn’t a much better way to ask for what he needs. He almost changes the name again but decides Harry is fine. It’s generic and nothing that can be traced to him. At least he doesn’t think so. Okay, he’s overthinking again so he clicks the send button before he can talk himself out of it. His heart races as soon as he does. He almost wants to take it back, figure out a way to undo it, but he takes a big gulp of his wine to calm down.
It’s fine. This is fine. He can do this.
In This Moment
A mix-up at the hospital causes Louis to reevaluate his life and he works on trying to fix his biggest mistake: letting Harry Styles walk out of his life two years ago.
Wait for It
A How I Met Your Mother au with a better ending. Louis is ready to find the love of his life and when he meets Harry he thinks he's finally found them. Liam and Zayn have been together since college and are ready to take the next step in their relationship, except Zayn might be having doubts. And Niall is happy with no strings attached dating until a new employee at the bar they frequent walks into his life and makes him question his entire existence.
Strawberries & Cigarettes
Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.
And I want More
Hearing Harry talk about knotting dildos makes Louis’ cock twitch. And fuck did it get hotter in here? Wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand he pulls Harry’s drawer to retrieve said dildo. It’s pink and glittery and honestly, Louis would expect nothing less from his best friend. A dazed smile forms on Harry’s face as soon as he wraps his fingers around it.
“Alright well, I should leave you to it. I’ll hang around on campus until your heat passes,” Louis informs Harry.
Harry’s eyes are open now, but they’re not looking at Louis, instead, they’re focused somewhere further south. He follows his gaze and immediately blushes when he notices what has caught his best friend’s attention. Louis’ erection is tenting in his sweatpants, a wet spot of precome darkening the fabric of his pants.
“Oh fuck.” It’s all making more sense now. All the heat he’s been feeling, the sweat. Louis is going through heat too.
a/b/o series
It takes Louis' early heat for Harry and Louis to figure things out.
Falling All in You
Louis wins a contest to meet Harry Styles even though he doesn't consider himself a fan. What he doesn't expect is to win over the popstar's heart.
Feeling Hazy (in the ballroom of my mind)
The doors to the ballroom open and violin music fills Harry’s ears, his skin prickling as he tightens his hold on Liam’s arm. All eyes fall on him as he makes his grand entrance next to Lord Payne, Earl of Wolverhampton. According to the media, they’re the couple of the century, but little do they know they’re not really dating. Harry tugs on his collar, the tightness around his neck almost too much. He’ll never get used to being Prince of Cheshire. Not only are wearing his royal garments a pain in the arse, he also hates all of the attention it garners.
There’s only one person’s attention Harry really wants.
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Better Than Me (2/2)
Part one is here!
Summary: You really are better than them.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!)Reader.
Word Count: 3000-ish.
Warnings: Angst. Fluff.
It was ridiculous. So ridiculous that it bordered near downright insane. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. Impractical, stupid and completely, utterly ridiculous. Beautiful, sparkly and downright amazing, but ridiculous. You fucking loved it.
The baby pink, bejeweled handgun sat inside a pink velvet box on your lap. The bow, which was also pink, of course, was lying at your feet, which were clad in bedazzled silver Louboutins. Gems of all colors on the rainbow covered it on all sides, from the barrel to the handgrip and along the safety pin.
You gazed up at Tony, who wore an amused expression on his face, before glancing over at Pepper. She had her hand over her mouth in embarrassment, clearly horrified by Tony’s gift choice. The card read that it was from both of them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.
“Happy birthday, kid.” He said with a smirk that nearly extended from ear to ear.
“I don’t even want to know how much you spent on that,” Pepper muttered, shaking her head while you took the thing out of the pink and white polka-dotted tissue paper.
The others sighed audibly when you smiled, annoyed that Tony’s gift overshadowed theirs yet again. To be fair, they’d all expected it, but all of them secretly hoped any one of their gifts would be your favorite.
“I love it,” you said, twirling the weapon around in your hand, “and I agree with Pepper, I can’t even imagine how much you spent on this thing...”
“You’ll make it work,” he mused, “Two million dollars, by the way, and you could just thank me.”
Your breath caught in your throat and for a moment, you were sure Pepper was going to faint. Natasha shook her head, watching the scene unfold in horror. It was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. Wanda, who seemed to share none of her feelings, had created a monster out of you.
“Thanks, Tony,” you blew him a kiss, unable to get up from your seat at the dinner table that was covered in white roses in silver vases and wine that came from expensive bottles.
“It’s very pretty,” the witch said, “Can I hold it?”
“Please,” you shoved it into her hands, “by all means.”
“You’re insane, Tony,” you said as you took the gift Bruce had gotten for you from his outstretched hands with a smile, “Absolutely fucking nuts, but I love you for it.”
Your eyes went around the room, finding Steve at the end of the table of which you sat at the head. You were the birthday girl, after all, the pink satin sash draped around you said so in large, cursive letters and so it was your turn to have the most important seat of the house. It was a ridiculous ordeal, he thought so anyway, but you were smiling and chatting and enjoying the company of your friends and it was good to see. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened and knew very well he was to blame.
He was the one who pushed you away, even though it was for your own good.
You took Thor’s gift just as the waiter began to serve your first course, and since he was seated closest to you, you thanked him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Steve’s gift came last. You didn’t expect anything from him given the circumstances.
Four hours, six courses and many glasses of wine and Asgardian mead later, you found yourself back in your room. Gifts given to you by your fellow team members were sprawled out on your bed, ranging from a pair of silk pajamas with glittery Ugg slippers to match from Wanda to Starbucks and Sephora gift cards from Sam and everything in between. Chocolate covered strawberries in a glittery box, two romance novels, a bottle of beautifully aged red wine from Asgard and a peach-toned Dior lipstick, all tokens of appreciation given to you by the people you cared about the most.
Despite the hardships that you faced the previous year and the social distancing that occurred during that time, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be with the team again. You’d changed a lot in a year, grown to be a different person than the one you were before. It wasn’t necessarily a good or a bad thing in your mind, it just happened naturally.
You sat down beside the velvet box, eyes automatically flying towards the item on your far left. A drawing of you, sitting on a terrace, staring out into the sunny skyline with a cup of coffee in your hand. It was an old drawing by the looks of it because your hair was much shorter and a different shade and your clothing was far plainer than it was now; black jeans and a white t-shirt. A signature that read SR sat in the bottom right corner in messy, doctor-like handwriting. It made your toes curl.
Of course, he was the one with the overly personal gift. You didn’t know whether it was because he simply had no fucking clue what 21st-century women liked to receive for their birthdays or whether he’d purposely done it to make you remember the day it was drawn, but the latter happened and now, you were sitting on your bed with prickling eyes and goosebumps that lined your skin.
You remembered that day very vividly. You’d only been an Avenger for three months and were struggling to adjust to the fact that you had to suddenly follow orders. Before joining the team, you’d worked alone, hired by people with deep pockets and dark intentions. You made your own rules.
The first time Steve had taken you out for coffee he kind to offer you advice. At first, you thought it felt a little like he was trying to be the human resource manager with the way he talked to you, you continued to meet up every Saturday afternoon and as the weeks passed, something in the dynamic changed. He loosened up, got rid of his Captain America persona and instead became Steve. You didn’t know what caused the change, but it was good, allowed you to actually get to know the man behind the suit and vice versa.
That particular day was a good one, It was a sunny day in spring, not too hot and not too cold, with a soft breeze that carried the scent of fresh flowers across the terrace. You’d ordered a latte, Steve liked it black. You weren’t talking, but instead, a comfortable silence hung between you. You’d brought a book just like you always did and read it while occasionally eyeing the people that passed you by. Steve, whose cheeks had become fiery red out of the blue, pulled out a leather-bound sketchbook and began to draw.
You never asked him what he was drawing, even when he stored away his pencils and shoved the book back inside his tote did you not bother to pry. Not even when you became so close you’d sometimes fall asleep together on the couch, did you not ask.
You knew now, but they didn’t say ignorance is bliss without reason.
You began to mindlessly pick at three layers of lavender toned sparkling nail polish, pulling at it as it came off your fingers with far too much ease. You’d paid the lady $60 for your manicure three days prior and now, you were ripping it off. With a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, gripping the back of your heels so you could slip them off with ease. You’d probably never wear them again.
You slowly began to clean up the mess, discarded packaging, boxes, and gift bags and placing them in the corner of your room near the door. You put everything away except for the drawing, which you couldn’t decide what to do with. Why was it such a big deal to you, anyway? You hardly spoke to Steve anymore and if you did, it was during pre- and post-mission briefings. Maybe that’s why it made you feel so strange. it didn’t feel right, such a personal, intimate gift after how far the two of you had drifted apart.
He hadn’t asked you about Netflix in four months and you hadn’t offered your expertise on which shows and movies were the best. You didn’t bring him coffee anymore but instead, he made his own, never leaving enough in the pot for you to make a cup as well. The message he sent you was loud and clear and in return, you were an open book.
He’d grumble when a stranger was seated at the breakfast table on Sundays courtesy of your hospitality, avert his eyes when they tried to kiss you openly (which you refused). The pang in his chest would hit him when he saw Ubers out front whose engines were running to carry you to your dates in high-end restaurants and fancy bars. He wasn’t jealous, he kept telling himself. He was just worried about your safety when you disappeared into the night with strange men. Men that weren’t him, ironically.
He should’ve seen you when you were right in front of him. When you were there, literally waiting for him to make a move on you, begging him with your mannerisms and your looks, your glances, and smiles even when his jokes weren’t funny. He knew damn well you would make an amazing couple, that you could take on the entire fucking world as a duo, but he was too scared to put it on the line, too scared of what might happen once the bad guys caught a whiff of your relationship. They’d already tried to destroy Bucky and Jesus Christ, they nearly succeeded. He couldn’t handle the thought of losing you to an organization like HYDRA, or worse. He never told you this. You had no idea. You were convinced he didn’t want you because of your flaws. Because of who you were.
You got over it, shut out the thought of ever holding hands with Steve in public, the thoughts of ever feeling his lips softly pressing against your plump cheeks and his body weighing down on top of you while his voice vibrated against your ear and neck. You managed to forget about him, managed to exchange the memories and fantasies of him for diamond necklaces, silk blazers, and expensive shoes. You traded him in for strangers with big bank accounts driving nice cars wearing expensive suits. They managed to fill the void he created by pushing you away.
So yeah, the gift bothered you. It was too nice, too sweet, so sweet you had to struggle to stay stoic when thanking him earlier. You literally had to stop yourself from smiling too big, from allowing tears of gratitude and happiness to completely ruin your make-up. if things had been different, you would have done those things. They weren’t. He didn’t want you and now he was being nice. It didn’t make sense.
Just as you were about to change into a different outfit for the evening, your phone vibrated. You picked it up off your nightstand and opened it. It was a text message, but not from the guy who would be knocking on the front door in the coming hour.
I didn’t get a chance to personally wish you a happy birthday. Can we talk? -S
You gripped the device so hard you nearly crushed the screen. Six months ago, a message like this would’ve had you crying on your bathroom floor for four hours. Now, it just made you angry. So angry, that you picked your studded Louboutin off the floor and chucked it at the wall. The heel broke off against the concrete, but you didn’t notice. You weren’t going to wear them again anyway.
Your fingers typed furiously, breathing coming out in shallow huffs. Images of the girls he’d brought back to Tony’s party’s flashed before your eyes while your fingers went faster than your brain could keep up with.
Roof. Omw.
Whether he understood the abbreviation ‘omw’ or not, you didn’t take the time to guess. You left your room without changing into the other dress or putting on new shoes. The elevator went up agonizingly slowly, but it was too late to go back and take the stairs. The buttons were pushed and the door closed.
He was standing by the edge, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. In contrast to you, he had changed his attire, leaving the light blue button-down he was wearing earlier for a plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants. He looked down at your feet, noticed how your polished toes were bare and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he caught the expression on your face. You weren’t surprised to find him there first. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d come up there running. Apparently, though, he did know what ‘omw’ meant.
“What the hell is this?” You asked, waving your phone in front of his face, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you mean?” He asked, voice wavering.
“What do I mean? What...,” you snorted, “What do you mean?! The gift, the talking? We shouldn’t be here.”
“But why?” He knew why but chose to ignore the sensical part of his brain that told him he shouldn’t be doing this.
You lifted your arms, a deep breath leaving you while you considered what to say. You wanted to come up with an excuse, tell him you were busy or that you’d lost sight of not just him, but the entire team, but fuck it, lying wouldn’t get you anywhere. It had never gotten you anywhere before.
“Because I have to get over you.”
He was silent, taking in your words. They stung, even though he already knew the truth they carried.
“I couldn’t have you constantly hanging around me anymore. I couldn’t stand seeing those girls hanging off your arm at those stupid parties and I sure as hell didn’t want to hear how fun they were and how great and wonderful and how amazing, and-”
He stepped forward, gripping your arms. The sudden contact made blood rush to your head, making you nauseous and dizzy simultaneously.
“I spent so much time wondering why they were better than me,” you mumbled, “I still haven’t figured it out.”
“They aren’t better than you,” he replied softly, “they don’t even compare to you.”
You looked up, eyes large and glossy and so goddamn pretty with that champagne eyeshadow and winged liner and Steve thought he was going to lose his mind then and there.
“I had to let you go because I’m afraid,” he admitted, “terrified of what might happen if anyone tries to get to you because of me.”
“Steve,” you tried, but couldn’t find words.
All this time, you thought he didn’t like you. That he wasn’t interested in you, didn’t want anything from you but a friendship at most. You’d taught yourself to ignore your constant desire for him because it would never be reciprocated.
“When you distanced yourself from me, I knew I’d messed up, but it was too late. I’d dug a hole for myself and there was nothing I could do to get back out,” he snorted, “I needed those girls as a distraction, but none of them are as good as you.”
He smiled sadly, taking your hands in his larger, calloused palms and began to rub circles on your knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I’ve been stupid and an ass and I don’t deserve to even be in the same room as you. I fucked up, Y/N.”
The skin on the back of his neck was soft when you clasped your fingers around it, muscles tensing up when you began to pull him down to meet you. Without heels on, you’d lost a significant amount of height on him, causing him to tower over you. On a hot day, he could be your personal parasol, shielding you from the sun with his entire body.
“Idiot,” you mumbled before his mouth found yours.
He kissed you, hands gripping your waist out of fear that if he were to let go, he’d wake up in his bed alone. But it wasn’t a dream, he knew it because the soft feeling of your glossy lips against his own was unlike anything he’d ever felt.
“Idiot,” you said again when you took a moment to breathe.
“I am,” he kissed you again, the sweet taste of Chardonnay and that night’s dessert - creme brulee and vanilla ice cream - still lingering on your tongue, sending his senses in complete overdrive.
“I don’t want to stay away from you anymore,” he said finally, “I’d never let anyone hurt you.”
You smiled, heart ready to explode from the sudden burst of happiness you experienced for the first time in a long time. Maybe Wanda was right all along.
“Steve, I can defend myself. You know that, right?” You mused.
“I’ll kill them if they try.”
He captured your lips with his again. The scent of his cologne, oud, and pine, nearly caused your knees to buckle from under you. You didn’t even realize the goosebumps that lined your skin, or the fact that the date you were supposed to meet up with had already bailed on you. It didn’t matter, because you finally had Steve where you wanted him. It only took for the two of you to drift apart almost completely for you to realize that you could never truly get away from one another.
You placed your head on top of his chest, allowing his body heat to warm you up in a hug that engulfed you. It was nice, the feeling of his chest rising and falling slowly while you watched the city’s skyline in the dark. The want for it had been suppressed for so long you almost forgot what it felt like.
“Steve?” You asked, peeking up at him through false eyelashes and three layers of waterproof mascara.
“Hmm?”
“Your gift was my favorite.”
Yeah, all of those bitches definitely weren’t better than you.
#steve rogers imagine#steve x reader#steve rogers imagines#steve rogers#marvel imagine#marvel smut#marvel#marvel writing#captain america imagine#captain america#captain america smut#captain america fic#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fic#jammywrites#avengers imagine#avenger x reader
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⦿ | 𝕲𝖚𝖑𝖆 : 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕝𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 | ⦿
gluttony is the over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink, or wealth items.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
β pairing: kim seokjin x reader
β word count: 5.3k
β summary: your boyfriend’s mastery of the kitchen is a pleasant surprise. he loves watching you enjoy the food he makes for you, and he has you eating out of the palm of his hand- literally. when a cute little game turns into something more sinister, can you handle the heat, or do you need to get out of the kitchen?
β tags: 18+/smut, bts smut, seokjin x reader, reader insert, boyfriend jin, blindfold, strip game, food play, oral (f + m receiving), light breath play, ripping clothes, unprotected sex (pls stay safe kids), lite monster fucking?, demon au
β part: 2 out of 7 of our seven deadly sins milestone challenge
⋫ link to master list here
β a/n: heya everyone! hope you enjoyed zesty’s first chapter yesterday! we’re diving a little deeper into the next sin. things will continue to unravel from here, so be sure to stay tuned because we will be releasing a chapter every day this week! please go to the masterlist linked above to see the rest of the chapters- you’re definitely going to want to read these bad boys in order. thanks luv, enjoy!
love, ya girl minty ✧
Jin’s front door opens, and a wall of aromas smack right into you. The scents flying into your nose whisk you away to a faraway shoreline, where the fresh breeze is hinted with a little bit of the ocean’s saltiness. The bright smell of lemon and the rich smell of wood chips fill you with delight, and your stomach churns at the thought of what he’s prepared for you.
You have been seeing Jin for a couple of months at this point, and he had finally, finally offered for the two of you to have a special dinner at his house. You’d been dreaming of taking it further with him every time you had been out with him, but he was a very classy guy, not that you were opposed. He had been intent on the two of you taking time with your budding relationship. Though you had spent hours flushed at your daydreams of him between your legs, eager for him to just get down there already, you allowed your desire to build inside of you. When you were finally allowed to let the dam burst, you wanted it to be a flood.
He is easily the dreamiest guy you’d ever seen in your life. He’s tall. He’s got the most gorgeous set of lips. His laugh is just ridiculous enough to be endearing. When you’d hugged him goodbye at the end of these last several dates you’d been on, his strong and broad shoulders rippling under your arms had your knees weakened and crumbling in moments. He’s incredibly handsome, and he knows it.
And you love it.
You’re plucked back to reality when you catch Jin looking you over, slowly up and down, taking in every inch of your form with his hungry eyes. His eyes are much darker than you remember, but it could just be a trick of the light. Tonight, they look like they’re churning with something mischievous. He’s also never been so bold about checking you out before. Perhaps there is a hope there’s more to his menu tonight than just food.
“Come in from the night, beautiful,” he says, reaching for your waist and helping you in his front door, “you’re right on time; everything is just about ready.”
You’re glad to come indoors, too. The sun had just barely fully set, but it had already turned cold. He gently shuts the door behind you as you take off your shoes, and for a moment, a waft of something sharp hits your senses. It smells a little like something is roasting, maybe broccoli, judging by that slight sulfur tang.
“What smells so good, Jin?” you ask flirtatiously as you follow him into the kitchen. You take a seat on the stool at his kitchen island and watch as he begins stirring something in a large pot ever so gently. His dress shirt sleeves are rolled up over his forearms, and taking in the sight is stirring something within you.
“I’ve got one pretty big lobster finishing up in that pot next to me, and this one I’m stirring has the pasta. I’ll be adding the meat to the lemon butter sauce in that pan there, and then I’ll toss it with the capellini which should… just… be… about… done?” he says, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he whisks out a steaming noodle and slurps it into his mouth, leaving his perfect bottom lip slightly damp. God, you want his mouth on you so badly, you feel like you could die. “Mmm,” he says, “al dente,” and you can’t rip your eyes off of how his lips move when he speaks. It’s almost as if his words came out in slow motion. That’s how mesmerizing this man is. If there wasn’t a steaming pot in front of you, it would be so easy to just lean across the counter and kiss him, to finally feel his lips on yours, to hold onto his shoulders as--
“Wanna try?” he asks, breaking you from your devilish thoughts. You find his hand itches away from your lips, offering you a noodle that is hanging delicately off of his pointer and middle fingers. You swallow hard before opening your lips and wrapping your mouth over his fingertips, using your tongue to secure the noodle before pulling yourself off. You dared to look up into his eyes, desperately hoping that he would understand your verbal message. You needed him to know how badly you wanted him. His eyes flashed with something incomprehensible, something that looked like, for a moment, wild anger, and you quickly avert your gaze and really hope he wasn’t turned off by your eager advancement. Just as you mentally scold yourself, it hits you again. That smacking smell of sulfur, for just an instant.
“Is there broccoli too?” you ask, trying to play off your daring move. “I thought I smelled some when I walked in.”
“No broccoli, just a summer salad for a side,” he says casually, looking back across his shoulders as he drains the pasta in the sink, steam rising. “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you,” he adds with a little bit of his odd laugh, “I’ve never heard of anyone being upset at a lack of broccoli.”
“No, it’s fine,” you laugh as he turns back to the stove to grab the other pot with the lobster, “I just swore I could have smelled it. Either that or maybe boiled eggs? Maybe for the salad?”
He turns back to the sink to drain out this pot, and you see three large bright red-orange lobsters fall out into the colander.
“Nope, not that either, I’m afraid,” he says as he carries the lobsters onto his wooden cutting board and begins the de-shelling process. “The salad is a mix of field greens and spinach with candied pecans, sunflower seeds, sliced strawberry and mandarin oranges, topped with a simple vinaigrette. No egg in sight, my dear.”
You hear a patter and a tinkling sound from his hallway and moments later, a little black and tan miniature pinscher trots out.
“Jin! I didn’t know you had a dog,” you say, reaching down to let the little guy sniff your hand. He seems unimpressed and hops onto the lounge chair just in the other room.
“Name’s Spot. I got him as a guard dog.”
You glance over at the small pup curled up on the chair and snicker. “There’s no way he’s a guard dog. He’s so cute and tiny!”
Jin laughs a little, “He gets the job done. Alright!” Jin exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Dinner is ready! Go get comfortable,” he says, gesturing to the table, “I’ll bring you your plate.”
Wow, you think, he’s really going over the top with this dinner. You seat yourself and take in how beautifully the table’s been set. Two matching sets of sparkling white dinnerware on either side of the table, and in between, two small candles sit, waiting to be lit. There’s a beautiful clear glass bottle of still water and a very expensive looking white wine to your left. You pick up the wine bottle and give it a look. LaVeyan Vineyards. You’ve heard that name before, but you can’t quite place it.
You glance back up at Jin who is skillfully plating your food, before glancing over to Spot who is sleeping soundly on the chair. You nearly drop the bottle of wine in your surprise, because there are three dogs on the living chair. You forcefully shut your eyes, only to open them and still find the three dogs still there sound asleep. Just as you’re about to turn and call over to Jin, he sits your plates in front of you and caresses your shoulder, interrupting your gaze from the growing dogpile. When you look back, there’s just the one little snoring pinscher again.
“What is it?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as he rubs circles on your shoulder. “You look like you might be nauseous.”
“No, I’m fine,” you say, “I just must be really hungry.”
“Well, then, enjoy!” Jin says, watching you intently as you take a generous first bite of your salad. The taste is nothing like you’ve ever had before. The sweet nuttiness of the pecans, the crispness of the fresh spinach, the crunch of the sunflower seeds and the tartness of the orange and vinaigrette swirl together and overwhelm and consume you. You melt away, feeling like you and the food are one.
Sometime later, the wine is gone and your plates are clean. There’s not a drop of sauce or dressing left. You’ve never been so full in your life, even still, you long to eat more.
“Jin, this has to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I can’t believe you made this.”
“Only the best for you. But I do hope you have room left, because I think it’s time for… dessert.”
“Dessert?”
“I’d like to play a little game with you. You’re going to close your eyes, and I’m going to feed you something. Using only your taste and smell, you have to tell me what it is. If you get it wrong, there will be… consequences.”
This piqued your interest. You’d almost fainted when Jin let you eat the pasta off of his hand earlier. You wonder for a moment again if he knows just how weak he makes you.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
You do as you're told, shaking with anticipation. Your world becomes dark, and you sit there waiting for Jin. Something cool touches your lips, and you part them a little bit to allow the food in. It’s a slightly conical shape, but there’s no taste to it.
“Bite.”
As soon as you bite, the familiar flavor bursts onto your tongue. As you chew, the sweet and tangy flavor coats your mouth, and you smile, knowing that you’ll get this one right.
“Strawberry. Easy.”
“Very good. This next one will be a little harder.”
The next sensation to hit your lips is a surprisingly cool and tangy pudding-like texture. It swirls with what feels like a warm whipped cream that’s been toasted. You can taste the little bit of char on the top, and then there's the crunch of something buttery as you chew. This one is definitely more complex, but you’ve had this before.
“Lemon meringue pie.”
“You’re right again, my dear.”
“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Jin.”
Your eyes remain closed as you feel something smooth and cool graze against your bottom lip. You open wider to accommodate, and as you close your lips around it, you feel that you’re eating off of a spoon. Once the spoon is gone, you’re left with a sweet and spongy mouthful of… something. This one is definitely more difficult. There’s coffee, cream, and chocolate. Some sort of cake texture fights with a fluffy cream for dominance. There’s something familiar about this taste, though. You remember having it several summers ago with your friend Soobin. Where were you? You struggle to bring up the memory. The smell of fresh bread and a summer breeze soars through you. You’re hit with the smell of after dinner coffee, and then you can see a small plate in front of you at the cafe table. You were in Italy, and the dish you had shared with Soobin was…
“Tiramisu.”
“Impressive. Although I was hoping you would get it wrong. Let me try again.”
“You’re on.”
Feeling cocky, you sit there with your mouth wide open. You’re more than ready for his next challenge.
In slides something warm and sticky, and you feel the juice coat your tongue as you chew. It’s definitely rice; the texture is unmistakable. It’s sweet, tropical, and pudding-like in consistency. A sticky sweet bite of fruit bursts in your mouth. The cold fruit fights with the warm pudding for dominance, and they end up in a draw, mixing perfectly with each other to create something so harmonious, it should be impossible. You’ve never tasted anything like this, and it’s driving you crazy.
“So, what is it?” Jin asks. You don’t have to be able to see to know he has a smug look on his face.
“Let me have another bite,” you say. He obliges and you’re sent again into the whirlwind of flavor. This time you pick out coconut and mango as those tropical flavors, as the combination dances on your tongue and drives you dizzy.
“I’ve never had anything like this, Jin.”
“Does that mean that you can’t give me a correct answer?”
“Is it… rice pudding?”
“No, it’s not.”
You open your eyes. There’s nothing on the table but your empty plates and the table setting. Where did those deserts come from?
“I have to know what that was. That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“First… Consequences, my dear,” Jin says, standing from the table. He strides over to you and lifts you up out of the chair by your hands. He leads you out of the kitchen and down the short hallway into his bedroom.
“J-Jin?” you stutter, “what are we doing?”
“Consequences.” he states, sitting you on the end of his bed. As you sink into the soft comforter, he walks to his dresser and retrieves something out of the drawer. He turns back around and presents to you a dull orange blindfold.
“I didn’t say you could open your eyes yet, so I guess this is the only way I can be sure you won’t peek,” he says, poking his tongue into the side of his mouth. The change in scenery seeps in.
“Are we going to continue… in here?”
“I’d like to… heighten the stakes a little,” he says, towering over you. He holds your jaw delicately in his hand, and directs you to look up at him. “Every time you guess wrong, I get to remove a piece of your clothing.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
“And once I have you the way I want you, because you will be getting every answer wrong from here on out, I’m going to eat you up. How does that sound?”
There’s no way you can speak right now, so you just affix the blindfold over your eyes and release a shaky breath.
“Very good. Now tell me, what is this?”
You bite down on something that feels like melon, but the taste is… bizarre. It’s savory, and you feel the ice cold juice run out and coat your tongue. It’s incredibly delicious, but you have no idea what it is. It’s an impossible food. As you chew, it gets more and more complex; flavors of cinnamon and ginger swirl together and then as it breaks down further, you begin to taste… ash.
“Jin, what is this?”
“I’ll take that as wrong answer number one. First, your shirt. I’ve been wondering what your bra looks like all night. I bet you put on your sexiest set, hoping I would see it.”
You had never imagined for him to be this… blunt. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t turning you on further. Him simply feeding you already had you soaked. You feel his hands on your hips, and his fingers dip beneath the hem of your blouse, inching it up and gingerly lifting it over your head, careful to not disturb the blindfold. You hear his breath hitch when your breasts are exposed to the chilly air. He was right, you did put on your nicest bra. The way your simple necklace draped down your cleavage and accentuated the curve of your breast was lighting a fire in him.
“Of course you have perfect tits,” he mumbles. As you open your mouth to ask him what that was supposed to mean, he gingerly places another morsel on your lips. He must be eager for you to try again. You bite down and crack through some sort of hard coating, and a sticky inside clings to your molars. You chew and chew, trying to decipher the flavor, but really nothing is there. It’s as if you were chewing on air. Only when you swallow, you’re met with the taste of dust.
“Jin, this is getting weird,” you say.
“Do you not know what this one is either?” Jin asks, a slightly teasing tone slipping like honey from his lips.
“It didn’t taste like anything at all, Jin!”
“Are you saying I fed you something bad?”
“No, I-”
“Okay then, sweetheart,” he says, slipping his fingers along the inside of your thigh, dipping just below the hem of your skirt, “I think you know what comes next.”
Your breath hitches as he unzips your side zipper. He takes his sweet ass time with it too, fingers barely grazing your hip as he shimmies the fabric down. Your palms begin to sweat as you reflexively lift yourself up to help him get them off.
“You are a hungry woman, aren’t you?” Jin questions as you hear your skirt hit the floor. You really wish you could see where he is. You really wish you could see where exactly he’s looking. “I knew you would be a dangerous little thing, but coming into my house, my realm, my domain without the decency to even wear panties?”
You unconsciously cross your legs and tilt your head away from where his deep voice is speaking from a distance. You can’t see him looking at you, but you can feel it. You can feel the weight of his gaze roaming over your body. You feel utterly exposed, and a little humiliated. You also feel very aroused. As if he can read your thoughts, he speaks again, this time quietly into the shell of your ear.
“You know you came here with one thing on your mind. You’ve been teasing me all night. Look at you, you’re practically shaking,” he says with a small chuckle, “you’re touch starved, aren’t you, my darling?”
His large hands wander down your waist and hips and he grips your thigh, just firm enough for you to feel small bruises forming where his fingertips dig into your flesh. His grip is almost sharp, but that tiny bit of pain only causes you to clench around nothing.
“I did promise to eat you up, did I not?” Jin says, as you feel him getting closer to your bare form. There’s an immense heat radiating off of him, and that drives you to reach out and touch him. His chest is as firm and tight as you’d imagined, but his skin is hot to the touch, almost burning. He slightly winces at the coolness of your touch, but is only emboldened by your engagement.
You feel yourself being shoved back onto his mattress, and your breath leaves your lungs upon impact. The next thing you know, your legs are being roughly opened, the cool air against your dripping heat causing you to clench again. Jin chuckles darkly.
“I’ve barely even touched you, and you’re already dripping for me,” he says, swiping up your entrance and collecting some of your slick. You hear an obscene popping noise, and as soon as you realize what he’s done, you gasp. The mental image you have of Jin’s perfect lips coated in your slick has to be nothing compared to what he actually looks like right now. There’s a guttural groan, not much more than a low rumble coming from the man between your thighs.
“My dear, the gods knew what they were doing when they made you. They knew you would ruin me.”
Before you can ask, his mouth is firmly on your slit, sucking and nibbling at your folds like a man starved. He grunts into your sopping cunt, hands firm on your legs as he slurps up every last drop of you. Your hands find purchase on his comforter, and you thrust up into him, a silent beg for more.
His tongue slides inside of you, farther than you think it ought to go, but you’re too far gone reeling in ecstasy to protest. His tongue splits you open as his nose finds purchase on your aching clit, and you’re sent into a silent scream. Your hands race to his beautiful black hair to hold onto him for dear life, wanting to be assured he can’t pull away. You twist your fingers through his soft locks and find purchase on two solid objects protruding from his head.
You edge closer, begging him not to stop as he struggles to hold your hips in place. His tongue is replaced by two of his fingers, that same sharpness you felt before on your thigh now at your inner walls. He curls his fingers up into the spot that will have you seeing stars, and he finally speaks again. This time, his voice is almost an octave lower, and heavy with desire.
“I can’t wait to taste your orgasm on my tongue. Cum for me, darling. Let me taste all that your sweet pussy has to offer.”
And with that, you come undone.
It’s as if your climax rips through your body and destroys everything in its wake. Your bones feel like jelly, and your mind is torn to shreds. Here, in this time and place, it’s as if you cease to exist for an instant. You are utterly consumed by your orgasm. The pleasure is so great that you forget who and what you are; all you know is that you want more. You don’t even register that you’re screaming until you start to come back down. Your body pieces itself back together, your heartbeat resumes normalcy, and you find your hands still firmly affixed to Jin’s silky hair.
“I want more,” you say, voice cracking. You’re met with another growl, this time directly on your swollen folds. You get a glimpse for only a moment out of the bottom of your blindfold, and that instance will forever be burned into your mind. Jin is looking straight up at you from between your thighs, slick coating his plump and swollen lips. His irises are no longer the warm chocolate hue you’ve grown to love, but between the few stray strands of hair that has fallen into his face now lie two bright and churning orange eyes.
“What, one orgasm not enough for you?” the man teases, “I knew you were a hungry woman, but I hadn’t pegged you as glutton for punishment. Are you sure you can handle more of me?”
“Jin, let me be clear: I want you to give me everything you have. I want it all.”
You can hear him exhale deeply as you feel him crawling on top of you. His heat again radiates onto your chest, and intensifies as he comes closer. He’s thrown one leg to each side of you, and his weight on your hips is delicious.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You don’t realize the mess you’re getting yourself in, little one,” he says, almost tenderly, as he grazes your collarbones with his touch.
“I think it is you who will be rendered a mess when this is all over, dear.” you retort, confident in your ability to make him see stars as well.
“Don’t hold your breath,” he mumbles against your ear. “Or… do.” he says and quickly fastens his hand around the base of your neck. Your heart quickens its pace at your lack of oxygen, but you’re determined to hold out. Only when you start seeing spots does he let go and wrap his hands around your body tenderly.
“I bet you thought I was going to be rather plain when it comes to sex,” he toys. “You thought you were going to come in here and seduce me tonight. You thought you were with an innocent man. You thought wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth, little one.”
The hand that was once caressing your back is now ripping through the fabric of your bra. As you hear the fabric tear, you feel a deep rumble in Jin’s chest. How can anyone be strong enough to tear through the band of your bra?
Maybe you had bitten off more than you can chew.
You hear what you assume to be your bra hitting the floor, and Jin wastes no time in making you putty in his hands again. He is busy placing open mouthed kisses over your chest and down your cleavage, taking special care to remove your delicate necklace.
“You should be more careful with pretty necklaces,” he says into the crook of your neck, biting down there where your pulse point is. You feel something poking against the inside of your leg, and you wonder for a moment when he managed to remove his pants.
“Jin, please,” you beg, your voice lingering on his name, hoping the extra little bit of whine would get you what you want. You feel his cock twitching right at your folds, and having what you desire be so close and yet so far away is the closest thing to actual torture you’ve ever experienced. You start clenching around nothing again each time you feel his cock twitch. You’re still so wet, he could just so easily slip right i-
Your thoughts are cut short as he takes his time inserting himself into your still dripping cunt. You thought it would be frictionless, but clearly he is much... bigger than you’d anticipated. Inch by inch, he slowly sinks into you. The stretch is slightly painful, but the fullness that accompanies it is to die for. His tip reaches your cervix, and you realize that there is still more of him to go.
He pauses. You whimper.
“I warned you, beautiful,” is all he says before he’s slamming into you over and over again, hitting your cervix and sending waves of pleasure through you. The slight pain fades and all you’re left with is unbelievable ecstasy. You reach up to hold onto his shoulders, desperate for support. You feel the muscle ripple under your touch, as he uses his arms to grab your hips. You don’t remember his hands being this big, but they seem to be able to wrap all the way around your hips.
In no time, you feel yourself approaching your second high, and you wrap your hands around his back. You want to dig your nails into his skin; you want him to notice the scratch marks you leave and be reminded of tonight. On your way down, you feel a rough patch of skin near his shoulder blades. Like it’s been shredded over and over again. Jin hisses as your hands drape over his scars, and you’re afraid you hurt him, but it’s followed with the deepest groan you’ve heard yet. His hips start to sputter, and you can tell he’s getting close. You scratch down his back once more and you finally get to hear how he sounds when he comes undone. His release triggers your own, and you’re both reeling through your orgasms, panting hard into each other’s mouths.
He pulls out of you with an obscene pop and you wince at the loss of warmth. You sit up, wondering where he’s gone, but in a flash his warm hands are on your shoulders, holding you steady.
“You think I’m done with you yet?” he asks, “Or is that all you can take? Do you still want more?”
You feel his seed drip out of you, and that sparks an idea. You quickly get onto your knees in front of him and let your hands roam down his torso until you find his cock, still completely hard. You guide his tip to your mouth, and you hear him gasp. You take in just his tip, tasting yourself on him, and let out a moan of your own.
“You know,” you say against the shaft of his cock, “You would enjoy this so much more if I could make eye contact with you.”
“You’re insufferable, aren’t you?” he grunts out as you continue to tease his tip with your tongue. “You’re almost too hot to handle, you know that? I’d be surprised if anyone else can… handle you like I can.”
“Just admit that you’re not strong enough to last long if I take your whole dick and look at you. Or I could just take off the blindfold and you could prove me wrong.”
“Well, well, is that some pride I see?” he asks with a low chuckle, “Oh dear, you’re in for quite a ride, aren’t you? Have it your way, spoiled brat,” he says as he rips the blindfold off.
Your eyes have to adjust to the new level of light, but when they do, you’re met with the most intense stare you’ve ever seen. Jin is staring right through you, right between the stray pieces of hair that’s fallen into his face. His whole body glistens with sweat; his chest is flashing as he breathes. From his parted lips come his last demand, wrapped up nicely in just a single word.
“Swallow.”
You waste no time in showing him what you can do. You alternate teasing his head with taking him as much as you can with some help from your hands. You quicken the pace and hollow out your cheeks as you make eye contact with him, getting lost in his beautiful brown eyes. He tilts his head back and you can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to contain himself. His abdominal muscles clench when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, and you know you’ve got him.
He told you to swallow, but you don’t think he was anticipating you being able to do this.
You paused, only just to catch his attention and have his eyes back on you. Opening your throat, you ease down every last inch he has, and he fingers through your hair, using it as a hold as he fucks into your mouth. Tears are stinging your eyes as his devilish length hits the back of your throat, but you know he’s close again.
You hold out until he’s a sputtering mess inside of you, and his cum is like honey on your tongue. You’ve never tasted something so delicious, and you don’t think you ever will again. You wait for Jin to finish, and without wavering eye contact, you look up at him with your best innocent expression, and display your cum covered tongue. You swallow, as instructed, and lay down feeling proud of yourself.
“You’re going to be trouble, woman,” is all he says before laying down next to you, cock still twitching, eyes closed as he tries to gather himself.
You take this time to scan the room, now only being able to properly see everything. There’s a beautiful painting of two people mid-sex act, and you make a mental note to ask him about it later, because you notice something rather odd.
You’ve been on your dinner date for maybe a few hours, but according to the sun outside of his bedroom window, it’s the middle of the afternoon. You look back over to the resting Jin to say something, but the reflection of his back in his dresser mirror is… not right. The skin on his back is… cracked. Like a porcelain doll.
“Jin?” you sheepishly ask.
He opens his eyes.
They’re bright orange.
#seokjin smut#seokjin x reader#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fanfiction#jin x reader#jin smut#demon au#demon!jin#demon!seokjin#seven deadly sins#admin minty#kim seokjin#seokjin x you
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What Goes Around Comes Around
T. Shouto x Fem! Reader (inspired song fic)
Song: What Goes Around by Justin Timberlake
Warnings: angst, cheating, like one scene of sex (very small scene), characters are 18+
Italics mean flashback
Word Count: 3k
A/N: This is my first fic and my first attempt at writing angst so I’m sorry if this is quite shit and of course it had to be my boy (pls forgive if there are typos). Also big shoutout to @shoutodoki and @shoutosplaything (also thank u for beta reading gabbi) for letting me tag them!
Don’t wanna think about it
Don't wanna talk about it
I’m just so sick about it
I can’t believe it's ending this way
Just so confused about it
Feeling the blues about it
I just can’t do it without ya
Can you tell me is this fair?
14 days
It’s been 14 days since the last time you saw Shouto Todoroki. You refused to acknowledge him as the man that you once loved but deep down inside you knew that you still love him. Everyday your thoughts kept haunting you as if it was a song that kept repeating itself without your permission.
Was I good enough?
Did he not love me anymore?
Could I have known before it happened?
Could it have been fixed?
Maybe I wasn’t putting enough effort?
You thought that your relationship was perfect. Like every other couple, you had your ups and downs. To something as silly as leaving the dirty dishes there or something as serious as miscommunication. Regardless, that was the best relationship you’ve been in for a while. Thought Shouto was the one to be. The one you would spend the rest of your life with. You guys were the It Couple. All your friends would always compliment on your relationship. Soulmates. That’s how everyone described your relationship with Shouto. A bond that could never be broken. The universe bringing two people together to forge the most perfect relationship. That’s what everyone used to say.
Tonight, just like every night you stared up at the ceiling refusing to let sleep take over your body as all you saw was Shouto when you closed your eyes. Laying on the couch, you stared up at the ceiling like you were in a trance, unmoving. The blanket lazily hangs off of the couch as you refused to shield your body from the cold. The unfinished dinner stayed on the granite counter in your kitchen, the half-empty wine bottle laid untouched on your low table. How pathetic you thought to yourself as you let out a weak chuckle and sat up slowly, running a hand through your messy hair. A bang like knock to your door startled you, making you turn your head quickly and could have sworn you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Who in the hell..” you mumbled and stood up, wiping your sweaty palms against your shorts as you made your way to the door, stopping in front of it. You let out a deep sigh and fixed your hair quickly to the best of your ability.
“Who is it?”
“Y/N.”
You let out an indescribable noise as you quickly covered your mouth. Why was he here? What does he need? Is he drunk? Millions of questions raced through your mind. Even with the door separating you two, you could still feel his intense gaze burning holes right through it.
“Y/N please open the door. I just want to talk to you and explain things.”
“There is nothing to talk about Todoroki” you snapped and leaned your forehead against the cool wood. He internally cringed whenever you used his last name. It sounded so foreign to him whenever the word escaped your mouth that he honestly forgot what it sounded like.
“Please all I ask of you is to let me explain”
You let out a low groan and unlocked the door quickly, opening it with force that even Shouto was surprised you would agree to face him.
“Explain?! You’re gonna explain how you oh so magically or you tripped and stuck your dick in another girl’s vagina?! Cause if you have an amazing explanation please be my guess and enlighten me.”
“Y/N come on don’t act like that..”
“No! You have no right to tell me how I should be acting! And don’t you fucking dare call me by my name. We aren’t formal anymore” You snapped and felt tears starting to form. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see you cry. Not again.
~~~~
The thought of marrying Shouto has been on your mind for the longest. Being in a relationship for 3 almost 4 years with him was amazing, you were deeply in love with him and you wanted to take the next step.
Recently you noticed a difference in Shouto’s behavior. He lost his loving touch. As time went on you noticed the bridge separating both of you as if it forbade you to meet in the middle once again. It started off small. He would come home later than usual. Yes being a Pro-Hero called for him to be out at unusual times of the night but this didn’t feel right. It wasn’t right.
“Shouto!” You called out from the front of your apartment, slipping on your shoes. “I’m going to be out for a while with Ochako! I shouldn’t be gone too long!”
Silence.
You were met with silence.
A frown formed on your face as you glanced at the man sitting down on the couch, staring down at his phone. ”Shouto?” This time you were met with a grunt. Least it was better than silence. “Did you even listen to what I said?”
“No. What did you say”
Ouch. That hurt.
“I said I was going out. With Ochako” you announced slowly, expecting that he would take notice this time. ”Uh-huh. That's cool.” he mumbled, not looking up from his phone once as a small smile formed on his face. ”Well..okay then I'll see you later then. I love you.”
Once again you were met with silence but this time he lifted his head up to meet your gaze. The look in his eyes looked unrecognized, something you haven't seen since the beginning of your friendship. ”Ok. Stay as long as you want.”
That was some of the red flags you should have taken notice of, but you were so blinded by your love for him that you didn't bring it up.
You told your best friend, Ochako Uraraka about the situation and she simply told you that you were probably overreacting and just needed to speak with the man himself. “Ochako you know he doesn't even acknowledge me anymore. He doesn't say ’I love you’, he's not affectionate anymore and always pushes me away whenever I try to have sex with him. Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?”
The brunette girl sitting beside you swirled the red wine in her glass as she stared down at it. ”I really wish I knew the answer for you Y/N-chan. From what it sounds like you just need to sit down and talk with him. It could possibly just be miscommunication.”
”What if he's cheating on me?”
”I'm going to have to stop you right there. Todoroki may be a bit dense at times but he isn't an idiot. If that were the case I would personally go down there and show him that he doesn't mess with the best girl around. In case you didn't notice, you're the best girl.
A weak chuckle escaped your lips as you took the final sip of your wine, relishing the way it went down your throat and left a tangy aftertaste. “Maybe I’ll buy a little something on the way back. Maybe some strawberry milk and soba noodles from his favorite place.”
“I mean you can do or you could just go straight home and talk to him without any bribery.”
A sigh exited your mouth as you placed your now empty glass on her white table. ”I really appreciate that you let me come over”
A smile tugged on her lips as she wrapped her arms around you, hugging you tightly against her smaller frame. “Of course Y/N-Chan! Let me know how it goes after!”
Then that’s how you found yourself in front of your door, reciting a small monologue on how you would approach the man. You opened the door quietly, staying put when you heard the soft creak of the door. “He should be home..” you whispered to yourself as you shut the door behind you once you entered your shared apartment. “All I have to do is approach and speak my mi-“ Black heels? When did you leave black heels here?
You didn’t. The only pair of shoes that were beside the black heels were your white slippers. You felt as if your heart dropped down in the depths of your body. It was a misunderstanding. It had to be.
You began walking towards your room, taking quiet steps despite feeling that your feet were dragging across the floor. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t capable of doing that. Right?
Turning the corner to enter the hallway you stopped your motion and stared. Across the hallway was your closed bedroom door. It felt like a journey that hasn’t even begun. Before taking a single step towards your destination, you heard it.
“S-Shouto!”
That was it. The moan. The noise of skin slapping against skin and the creaking of your once shared bed where it was him making you feel that good. Him touching you in a way that no one else could feel his touch. It used to be you. Only you.
“No no no” you repeated like a mantra and walked over quickly only to stop in front of the door, hand resting about the door knob. You were hesitating, but why? You already had your answer. Was it because you were in denial? You thought this was a dream?
Taking a deep breath you grasped the knob and turned it, pushing the door open quietly.
There it was. The scene you always hoped you would never see. Your now ex-boyfriend, drilling some woman into your mattress. Your presence seemed to be ignored by them.
“Fuck baby you fuck me so good!”
“You’re so fucking tight” Shouto grunted and threw his head back and closed his eyes before opening them again, tensing up on once he spotted you standing right behind him. His hips stilled as his hands let go of the woman’s ass.
You couldn’t believe it and started shaking your head in denial
“Y/N this isn’t what it looks like”
“Oh? What is it then huh? I know I’m not fucking blind. I can see what is going on with my own two eyes.”
He got off the bed quickly and grabbed a spare sheet, placing it on top to cover himself up. “Please Y/N” he whispered. He sounded desperate as he reached to grab your hand while taking a step towards you.
“How long has this been going on.”
“What?”
“How long have you been doing this behind my back.”
“...6 months.”
The past 6 months seemed like a lie now. Every kiss. Every touch. Every ‘I love you’ was nothing but a lie. Now, you remembered all the red flags that were thrown your way but your denial got the best of you. The constant fighting, blowing you off on dates to go hang out at ‘Midoriya’s place’ or even ‘Bakugo’s place’. Coming home late even when he wasn't called for work. It all made sense now.
”Baby we can talk about this”
“No!” You snapped and pointed a shaky finger at him. “Do not beg me. I gave you everything I possibly could. I put in all my time and my energy for this relationship and for you to just..” you trailed off and covered your mouth with your hand, suppressing a sob from fleeing. ”You know...instead for future purposes. If you want out of a relationship j-just tell them. Don't cheat on them from behind. And don’t you dare call me that fucking name again.” You said as confident as you could but in reality it was the opposite of confident. Your voice was wavering, your once perfect mascara was running down your face mixed with your tears.
Shouto gulped and clenched the sheet in his hand. “I still love you Y/N.. we can talk this out please. Just give me a chance.” He whispered and looked directly into your eyes. Broken. Torn. Guilty. The look in his eyes seemed to stare right through your soul.
“If you really loved me, you would have never cheated on me in the first place. You would have come up to me and spoken to me how you felt instead of doing this behind my back… I’m going to leave. When I come back, I want you out of my apartment. Take everything you own and leave.”
Is this the way it’s really going down?
Is this how we say goodbye?
Shoulda known better when you came around
That you were gonna make me cry
Now it’s breaking my heart to watch you run around
Cause I know that you’re living a lie
But that’s ok baby cause in time you will find
What goes around, comes around
~~~~
You shut your eyes tightly as the memory and clenched your fists right by your side.
“I was drunk. I went to a bar right when you left to go visit Uraraka.” Shouto said as he took a small step towards you. It felt like the world was suffocating you.
“A bar? That’s your excuse for cheating on me? Drunk for 6 months? Please. I’m not stupid. I know plenty of men that get ‘drunk’ and they don’t cheat on their significant other. I didn’t expect that coming from your mouth. You disappointed me. You let me down. You made me feel like it was my fault.”
“That’s because it’s not!” He suddenly yelled and you flinched slightly at the sudden change of his tone. He let out a deep sigh and kept going forward till he had you caged between him and the wall inside your apartment. “It was all me. I was stupid. I’m sorry for hurting you..I should have just came up to you and spoke to you how I was feeling. I’m sorry.” He whispered and placed his finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him.
You gulped and felt his intense gaze stare through you. His bi-colored hair tickling the top of your forehead. His face was close to yours, you could feel his hot breath hitting your face as he cupped your cheek.
“I’m afraid of losing you..I don’t want to lose you Y/LN” he whispered into your ear, smiling faintly when he saw you shiver. Even like this, he still had the same effect on you and you loathed it. “We can just forgive and forget.. I’ll make it up to you I promise just please forgive me”
You wanted to. You wanted time to go back and give you what you wanted. A meaningful relationship. Being with Shouto was on your mind everyday as if it was mocking you. You desperately wanted to be in his loving arms again, feeling his body on yours. Now that you were caged behind him, a low level panic started to arise in your body. Could you ever forgive him? How could you forget? What makes this different? What if he does it again?
“She cheated on you didn’t she”
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, she cheated on you. Didn’t she?”
His quietness was all you needed as your answer. You shook your head and looked up at him, stroking his scar gently with your thumb.
“And you felt if you came back to me thinking I’ll let you back huh? You think that because she cheated on you it’ll make us relate on a different level and make everything better right? How’d it feel? It felt horrible huh? Like your heart was being ripped into two then stomped on.”
Shouto growled faintly and gripped your shoulders a bit tighter, opening his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.
“No. I’m not done fucking talking. I cried. I cried and cried for your sorry ass. You and I are not feeling the same type of pain. I loved you. She didn’t. I..I still love you” you whispered the last part under your breath
Shouto sucked in air as he tensed up. Time seemed to stop as the earth stilled. No one said anything. You missed the silence with him. Under different circumstances you would have enjoyed it. “You..you still love me?”
“Course I still love you!” You cried out and pushed him off of you, walking towards him as he kept backing up with each step you took. “But I can’t be with you. Part of me wants to forgive you and throw myself at you but the other half is telling me you’ll just do it again.”
“You think I would do it again?”
“I mean you did it the first time. So what would make it different from the next? Todoroki you just.. you need to leave.”
He quickly reached for your hands and cupped them, holding them to his chest. “I can’t lose you Y/N..” he whispered
“You already did.” You said coldly and pulled your hands out of his grasp. “What goes around comes around huh? That’s your karma now. Get out. I never want to see you again. I want the guilt to swallow you alive.”
He stood there unmoving, hands grasping around nothing as he looked up at you. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sorry. I hope we can start over again soon. I hope you can forgive me.”
You watched as Todoroki walked down the steps and into the dark night. It felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders but the hole in your heart was still wide and open. Closing the door till he was no longer in sight, you let your head fall against the wood, letting out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding in.
“Goodbye Todoroki Shouto.”
Is this the way it’s really going down?
Is this how we say goodbye?
Shoulda known better when you came around
That you were gonna make me cry
Now it’s breaking my heart to watch you run around
Cause I know that you’re living a lie
But that’s ok baby cause in time you will find
What Goes Around, Comes Around
#bhna#mha#bhna x reader#todoroki#todoroki shouto#shouto todoroki#todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#shouto x reader#my hero academia#bokonoacademia#xreader#xreaderinsert#readerinsert
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farmer!taehyung 1: after the mulberries (m)
just a re-upload for his birthday!!!! 💖💖💖💖
You’d left the mulberries to soak in wine an hour ago. The vineyard isn’t that far a walk, but you’d still waited just a little before sunset to go picking, and even then you had sweat right through your blouse. Hauling your mulberry-heavy basket back through that muggy heat wasn’t fun. The shower you took, though—it was a different experience of divine.
The fireflies are out and around the cabana when Taehyung stops by your family’s lot.
“Hi lady.” He adjusts the basket slung on his shoulders with a jump. “You finally finished the couch.”
The monstrosity of bamboo you relax on creaks when you nod. “Pretty, right?”
“You worked hard,” he compliments.
“Whatcha got in there?”
“Ribs and liver.”
The announcement had rung clear just now, town horns cutting through your cross-stitching session. Cow’s been killed; come get what you want before it’s gone! You hadn’t gone though. You still have ham in storage, and Taehyung makes better beef stew. “Yum. You wanna stop by when you drop that off?”
Taehyung hums. “What do you have in mind we do, miss?”
“I need help building an oven for my sister,” you say. He doesn’t hide it when he sags with disappointment, frowning like he’d wanted another suggestion. “Kidding. Everyone’s gone to the city, you need to keep your fiancée preoccupied another way.”
“You promise it doesn’t involve me getting dirty?”
“I’ll get you dirty with something else.”
“Well shit,” he laughs with relief. He won’t step closer for a kiss because he knows you’ll gag from the smell. “Be back, then.”
You’re just about done stitching the last petal of a sunflower when you hear Taehyung coming along the walkway again. The sun’s set, lamp flickering under the fuzz of the mosquito net. Taehyung’s sure to secure the zipper before he slumps on the cushions next to you. He curls the smell of soap into your side.
The sigh he lets out bears the weariness of a long day. “How long are your parents gone for this time round?”
“Probably two weeks,” you say. Another visit to your auntie who made it big in the corporate world, plus you’d asked for another phone because yours was starting to give out. There’s cracks from when Taehyung dropped it on the cement a couple days ago. “You tired?”
“Mm.” He leaves a slow kiss on your shoulder. “Rice paddies are no fucking joke.”
“Aw. It was so hot today too.”
He lays a light hand on your cheek to turn your mouth to his. Eager with his tongue that says he’s not as tired as he lets on, so you kiss him like you want it. “As much as I wanna appreciate this couch, I don’t want it to break.”
“From doing what?”
“From doing what you said would make me dirty,” Taehyung answers.
You don’t hesitate to get up with shaky legs, leaving behind your unfinished threads. You beckon with impatient fingers. “Bed’s waiting.”
The lamp squeaks when Taehyung twists the flame out. When you pop up from the net you don’t feel the mosquitos flying around anymore. Means all the old people have gone to bed, and now you’re extra-cautious when you bring Taehyung back inside the house like new lovers caught under the secrecy of night. The layout’s familiar to him though—he doesn’t knock you over the low table in front of your bed when he strips you of your dress. His shirt falls on the floor. You tumble with him onto the sheets.
“Let’s get married already,” he whispers when he crawls over you. “I’ll build our house near that pond you love to visit so much.”
As much as you want to hurry with all the marriage prep, you know your mom would have a fit if she wasn’t there to contribute. Tradition called for ceremony upon ceremony, and if you so much as got a shade of colour wrong for the drapes then you’d be cursed with bad yield, too much rain. Her gossip is petty but you wouldn’t risk it. Taehyung licks quiet love on your neck. “That sounds nice. And I found a new video for a nice marble sink.”
“Yeah?”
“Our bathroom’s gonna be more beautiful than Miss Taehee’s.”
“I donno, Miss Taehee’s built a mean bamboo sink.”
You cluck your tongue. “Whatever.”
“Hm. I’m really fuckin’ sleepy, peaches.”
“Then come back up here and kiss me,” you prompt. He doesn’t. Just sucks lower down your stomach and slipping your panties down for a quick lick up your sex you’re not prepared for. “Tae—“
“Sh-h. Missed you. Let me just…”
He’s got you hooked with a sweet tongue and hard arms wrapped around your thighs. It hasn’t even been that long since you last saw each other; you’d stopped by the rice paddies when you went mulberry picking, and you’d thrown some in his mouth as he worked knee-deep in the water. Had simple conversation with a hi to his little siblings wading around him. You know he’s worked hard today. “Oh,” you sigh when he suckles hard. “P-Please don’t make me come, I can’t last.”
Taehyung pulls off with a hard prod to your clit. “Want me to stop?”
“No, keep going,” you plead. You’re sticky with heat and slick, halfway to wrecked and he hasn’t even put his dick inside yet. Bucking your hips isn’t easy but you try under his locked attention anyway. It’s a grumble he responds with. Then he laves the stretch of your pussy like it’s punitive and you’re heaving. “Oh. F-Fuck, please. Please—I won’t—“
“The fireflies might hear you,” he chides.
“Shut up.”
“Remember when Grandma Min asked us if we heard that wailing sound before?”
“Shut up.” Taehyung dodges the smack you deliver, catching your fingers between his teeth. You pulse hot from the pinch of his wet mouth. “You’re so annoying.”
He ignores you. “Your hands still taste like berries.”
“Picked a ton. Come up here mister, I miss your mouth already.”
“You’re so sweet.” He probably means it literally but you still smile like it was meant to please you. Your head digs into the pillow when he meets you with a heady kiss, tongue tracing all the noises you don’t want Grandma Min hearing.
Taehyung grabs at your back. Twisting you over him with the drag of his hand down your thigh till he has your leg splayed over his waist, and you prop yourself up with a lazy elbow and a perplexed expression. “You wanna fuck like this?”
“Yeah. I mean I’d love to pound you into the bed but that’s way too loud and I have zero energy, those goddamned rice paddies.” You snort. He slides his pants and underwear off fast just to rub on your cunt slow. “You still have coconut oil here?”
“Bottom cubby.” A reach to your bedside table, the pop of the vial, a slicked up dick that Taehyung teases along your clit just to hear you sigh before he slides it in. The angle is new but you cream him senseless regardless. You bury a moan in his sweaty neck. “Fuck.”
He growls a low sound. Hands woven tight on your ass so he can grind up on your push down, and your eyes roll back stupidly hard. “Feels so good.”
You vibrate from the praise. It’s silent save for your desperate breathing, the sound of your slippery skin on his. Ribs knocking against each other because you’re so close like this. Your gut twists when Taehyung ruts up that extra inch. “H-ah—! O-Oh, right there. Likethat—“
“Christ,” Taehyung chokes. “Keep talking and I might r-really pound into you.”
“Thought you were tired.”
“I always work hard for this pussy.” You stutter through a laugh, not fighting him when he spreads you flat on the bed under his leaking cock. He’s deep in your cunt within a second, balls a hazard when they threaten high volume because he really can’t keep from fucking you hard when you’re lain pliant like this.
You can’t say you’re not into it either. The bed creaks under Taehyung’s quick hips, sheets bunched tight in your fists. And you don’t prompt the thumb he licks and pushes against your clit but the croaky groan you let out. “Oh god—“
“I want you to come first,” Taehyung says.
It’s not a hard thing to achieve, and you give it to him straight. Your neck aches with the need to stay silent. He doesn’t let up for that exact same reason, cock heady in its thrusts to get you on your high. You know he wants it loud. “T-Tae—“
“Just let me have it, please—!”
You might as well have the mic for the town horns to blast. So you give it to him: burning hot along your nerves just to feel that sweet unraveling you can’t control, convulsing from your core and you know Taehyung feels it too when his dick sputters through his rhythm. You squeal. Grabbing onto his arms to anchor the squirming you’re liable to when you come so good.
“Fuck,” you heave with satisfaction. And he’s desperate for that high too, cock slapping fast in the race for an orgasm he’s sweat all day for, one he spills over your stomach when he pulls out in the last second. Taehyung pumps with a slow hand, tired beyond his wits. Brain melting in the heat of post-climactic achievement. “Dirty.”
He laughs into your embrace, cum on your stomach and all. “Be my wife already, god. Don’t wanna pull out anymore.”
You simmer with excitement at the thought. “I know.”
“A month.”
“I know,” you say again, with just as much impatience. “How’s ice cream sound for tomorrow?”
“Absolutely wonderful. Please. I worked so hard with the rice paddies—“
“Yeah I know.”
Taehyung huffs. “I’ll always work hard for you,” he promises.
You croon into his hair. You won’t ask for help when you go strawberry picking tomorrow. He’s worked too hard.
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Demons VI
hope you’re all okay :) been doing all these instagram posts that i complete forgot about this so sorry this took so long. hope you like it :)
TW: mentions of self harm, mentions of sexual assault, depression, eating disorder, use of drugs, swearing, age gap (19/24)
Billie woke up feeling slightly better than she did the day before. She woke up to a reassuring text from Harry which made her smile, but it went away when she heard a knock at her door. Billie hoped it was her father, coming in to wake up her so they could spend their day together, but it was still fairly early and it was his day off so she assumed he would still be asleep. Maybe it was Jacob coming to check on her.
“Billie, are you awake?” Her mum called quietly and she sighed. She didn’t need an earful from her right now. As bad as it was, Billie tried to ignore her, turning over so her back was facing the door before her mum walked in. The older woman sat on her daughter’s bed and took in a deep breath. “I know you’re not asleep.”
Billie groaned and covered her face with the duvet. “Can we pretend that I am?”
“No, because I want to talk to you.”
“I know you’re gonna have a go at me.” Billie sighed as she sat up on the bed and looked at her mother. “And you should. I shouldn’t have just disappeared like that.”
“You shouldn’t have, but I’m not gonna have a go at you. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”
“Oh?” Billie didn’t know how to respond. “I-I guess now that I’m home I feel a bit better.”
“Your father told me where you were.”
“I know what you’re gonna say-“
“I’m really sorry, Billie.” Her mother looked down. “I’m gonna try my best to be there for you and help you.”
“I’m sorry, too.” The back of Billie’s eyes pricked with tears. “I know I’m difficult and maybe if I tried a bit harder to get better it would be easier.”
“You can’t help it, and I’m learning to understand that. I think that if we communicate better then maybe we’ll be able to work through this.” Ruth reached up to tuck Billie’s hair behind her ear, the way she did when she was a child. The young girl smiled at that. “Haven’t seen you smile in so long. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, mum.” Billie’s phone buzzed with a text before she could say anything else. She picked it up and giggled at the silly joke that Harry had told.
“Who’s that?”
“Harry.”
“Oh, are you two... you know?”
“We’re just friends.” Billie shrugged, her mother wasn’t convinced by her words but she didn’t ask anymore questions.
“Why don’t we have breakfast together before I go to work?”
Billie was now sat at the table with a cup of tea while her mother made her chocolate chip pancakes, the way she used to when she was younger. Ruth placed the stack of pancakes in front of Billie, they were decorated with chocolate chips and strawberries and her mouth watered. If Billie was honest, she wasn’t in the mood to eat. But she was hungry, and her mum had spent time of making it.
“Why didn’t you take the day off like dad?” The young girl asked her mother as she took the first bite. God, it tasted so good.
“Oh, I took yesterday off already.”
“Why?”
“I was worried sick about you. Literally. I couldn’t bring myself to go to work.”
“I’m really sorry.” Billie sighed. “I promise I won’t do anything like that again.”
“You’re home now, that’s all that matters.”
The two of them spoke while they finished up their breakfast. Billie couldn’t even remember the last time her and her mum had a proper conversation - she really missed it. Billie didn’t even notice that she had finished all of her pancakes until she went to have another bite but looked down and realised they were all gone.
“Oh, my god.” She felt like she could cry.
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, too. “I can’t even remember the last time you finished a meal.” She said, getting up to give Billie a hug.
As if on cue, Jacob walked into the kitchen. He was confused by the sight. He couldn’t remember a time where his sister and mother weren’t at each other’s throats. “Oh, you’re back.” He noted. He seemed angry.
“Yeah,” she said, detaching herself from her mother, “I’m really-“
“You could’ve texted me.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Dad and I are gonna do something fun today, you can join us if you like.”
“That’s okay, Ryan’s coming over.” The young boy shrugged.
“Oh, okay.”
***
It was the evening now. Billie had spent the entire day with her father and she was in a good mood. They went to the park and fed the ducks (she made sure to send loads of pictures to Harry). They stopped for ice cream, but only one scoop because Billie was still full from her breakfast. If anything, they spent most of their time just talking and making up for those years where they were hostile towards each other. They spoke about work, therapy, Jacob, Harry. She liked speaking about Harry.
“You spend a lot of time with Harry, don’t you?” Her father asked.
“I guess.” Billie shrugged. “He’s the first friend I’ve had in a while so...”
“Are you just friends or?”
“Yes, dad.” She let out a nervous laugh. “Boys and girls can be friends.”
“I know that, but this is different.”
“How?”
“Your face just lights up whenever you speak about him or if he texts you.” Billie’s phone pinged as if on cue. “Just like that.”
“Oh, apparently mum invited him and Anne round for dinner tonight.”
***
By the time Billie got home, she was honestly quite hungry. And for once, she didn’t feel guilty about it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to have the biggest dinner in the world and she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to finish it, but the fact that she was even thinking about eating was a step in the right direction.
Harry and Anne were already there when they got back, they were stood in the kitchen with Ruth. Even though Billie had just seen Harry the day before, she felt so much better seeing him. She was having a good day, and she wanted to share that with him.
“Finally!” Ruth sighed after seeing her husband and daughter, giving them both a kiss on the cheek. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Billie’s parents ended up falling into a conversation with Anne, leaving her and Harry alone. They gave each other a hug and he kissed her on the forehead like he always did, hoping their parents didn’t see.
“Hey, how was your day? Didn’t speak that much.” He asked her. Billie told him about everything. The conversation with her father the night before, the one with her mother that morning. She told him how she finished her breakfast and even had ice cream and didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty for it. “Oh my god, I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, H.” She smiled.
Dinner went pretty well, the only thing that bothered Billie was that Jacob had been really quiet. Was he still upset with her? She needed to fix this. The only time he would really speak is if his friend, Ryan, had said something to him. Oh, well. I’ll speak to him after dinner, she thought. The problem was, she didn’t get the chance to. After everyone was finished eating, they all did their own thing. Jacob and Ryan went to play on the PS4 some more, and her parents and Anne all decided to share a bottle of wine. Even though her and Harry were offered some wine, they decided against it and went up to her room instead.
They spoke for ages about absolutely everything. Billie liked that about Harry, she liked that they could see each other and speak all the time but there was still always something new to speak about. She told him about Jacob, about how he was upset with her because of what happened. It wouldn’t have bothered her so much if it was her parents that were still angry at her, but Jacob always had her back. Maybe she finally took it too far.
“Talk to him properly, B.” Harry told her. “Go knock on his door and speak to him.”
She sighed but got up anyway, leaving Harry in her bed, walking to her younger brother’s room and knocking on his door. He didn’t answer or open the door, so either she didn’t knock loud enough or he was really angry. She figured there was no harm in just walking in because that’s what she usually did. But she wasn’t prepared for what she walked into. Her younger brother was making out with his best friend on his bed but they jumped off of each other as soon as the door open.
“What the fuck, Billie? Do you not know how to knock?!”
“I did!”
“Get out!”
“Fuck! Okay, I’m sorry!” She held her hands up and walked out, closing the door.
“What was all that shouting about?” Harry asked when she made it back to her room.
“I just walked in on him and Ryan.” She told him, still in shock.
“What? Like...?”
“Kissing, yeah.”
“Guess you’ll just have to speak to him later then.”
***
It had been a couple of hours, Billie could still hear her parents and Anne talking and laughing. She didn’t think they’d stop anytime soon, but she didn’t mind because she wanted to be around Harry for as long as possible. It was pretty late, almost midnight and Billie was usually getting ready for bed at this time.
“H, I’m just gonna have a shower.” She told him. “Do you want to put on something more comfortable? I have these joggers that are way too big for me. I’m sorry, I just can’t watch you chill in jeans for this long.”
Harry took the greg joggers, only changing into them once Billie had gone into the bathroom. She wasn’t gone long, only 15 minutes. She walked back in wearing nothing but an oversized band t-shirt and a towel on her head, which she quickly took off to dry her hair with it. Harry didn’t think he’d seen a prettier sight.
“How was your shower?” He asked, moving so he could make more space for her on the bed.
“Got shampoo in my eye, hurt like a bitch.” The younger girl chuckled, looking at him. She tried not to choke when she saw how good he looked in the joggers. “Do you want a cup of tea? I was about to go make one.”
“Yeah, I’ll come down with you.”
Billie’s father was in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher while Anne and Ruth were in the living room. He made small talk with Harry as Billie made the tea (Harry offered but she was very specific about how she had her tea). “H, can you just get the milk from the fridge for me, please?”
“Here, love.” He said, handing her the milk and then staying by her side as she finished it. She said a quiet thank you and gave him a small smile.
Her father watched the two interact, and he noticed how Billie was different around him. He had never seen her smile like that or seen her so calm and comfortable. He needed to say something, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
“You two make a lovely couple.”
Billie groaned and Harry’s eyes widened. “I told you we’re just friends, dad.” She turned around to face him.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He held his hands up and made his way out of the kitchen, saying I’ll leave you two alone now.
“That was weird.”
Billie rolled her eyes, “no, it wasn’t, he knew exactly what he was doing.”
“You’ve spoken about this before?”
“Yeah, my parents thought we were together. I obviously said we weren’t.” Billie tried to brush it off. “I mean, that’s crazy.”
“Didn’t say that when we kissed.”
“You kissed me, Harry.”
“You kissed me back.”
“You didn’t say anything after it happened, I thought that maybe it was a mistake for you so I just ignored it.” Billie shrugged.
“Wasn’t a mistake.”
“The tea’s getting cold.” Billie blurted, not knowing what else to say. She could see the disappointment in Harry’s eyes. Did he really want to speak about it that much? She simply ignored it and took her tea upstairs, Harry following behind.
“I didn’t say anything about the kiss because I didn’t know if meant it. You were going through a lot so I thought that I was just a distraction.” Harry said after being sat in silence for ten minutes.
“Harry, I would never use you like that.” She said, turning to face him. “I kissed you because I wanted to.”
Harry smiled at that, “did you like it?”
“The kiss?” He nodded. “Yeah, it was good.”
“Just good?”
She knew exactly what he was doing, so she decided to tease him a little. “Yep. Just good.”
Billie was laying on her front, her elbows supporting her as she looked at Harry, who was laying on his back with is head being elevated by her pillows.
“So, you’ve had better then?”
“Hm, maybe.” Billie tried to hide her smile by biting her lip. She failed. “I don’t remember very well.”
“Need me to refresh your memory?” Harry asked, he seemed hesitant. In situations like this, Billie would usually change the subject or make a joke because she felt uncomfortable and awkward. This was different. The only thing she could feel was the desire to kiss Harry, so she simply nodded at his questions.
Harry didn’t waste any time, he attached his lips to hers and felt himself relax. Her lips were so fucking soft. He brought his hand up to place it on her check, the other one resting on her hip. Her left hand was resting on his chest as the other one holding the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Harry’s hand was suddenly getting lower and Billie hadn’t noticed until she felt his hand on her thigh.
“Harry,” she whispered, breaking the kiss.
“I’m sorry, I-“
“No, it’s fine. It’s just,” she paused, “I have scars. I don’t want you to see them.”
“Hey, that’s okay,” he kissed her on the forehead. “But just so you know, it won’t bother me. I’ve seen the ones on your arms, I don’t think of you any different. You’re beautiful. Your scars are beautiful.”
“They’re not.” She was about to cry and she hated it. “They’re just... ugly.”
“Stop that.” He said, quietly but firmly as he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “I really wish you could see what I see. Most beautiful girl in the world.”
#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfic#harry styles blurb#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles solo#harry styles writing#harry styles angst#harry styles music#harry styles fic#harry styles fine line#fine line#demons#only-kiwi
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Strawberry Wine
This was prompted by my lovely, mythical friend Ross ( @mythical-ross ).
—
Rhett shifted in his seat as the interviewer and his small crew were setting up around them. Rhett’s back was aching from sitting too long on the uncomfortable couch, and the hunger that has been gnawing at his insides for a while now had just audibly announced itself to the room. Jenna seemed to notice Rhett’s discomfort because she got up and walked to him. She leaned down to brush off invisible lint from his shoulder and whispered, “This is the last one.”
Rhett gave her a small grateful smile and trained his attention to the interviewer. He was a young guy, probably in his early twenties. Rhett had already forgotten where the guy had said he was from but by his appearance, Rhett could guess it was some kind of a website – something young and hip and trendy. Exactly the type of site they wanted writing about Bleak Creek.
“Okay, you guys ready to start?” the interviewer asked. Rhett glanced at Link, whose smile was wide but tight around the edges – he was tired too.
“Let’s go,” Rhett said jovially as Link nodded in agreement.
The interviewer launched into his intro with way too much energy for Rhett’s liking. The questions were all boilerplate – stuff they’d already answered dozens if not hundreds of times during the press tour of Bleak Creek. In a way Rhett is thankful. The answers flowed out of him without much effort, and the carefully rehearsed give and take with Link shone brightly despite their weariness.
“Okay. Great! One more thing I wanted to talk to you about. Actually, it’s something I wanted to show you. Our researchers found an interesting video. Here, let me…” the guy said, setting up a laptop in front of them. He looked almost giddy, and Rhett frowned wondering which of their videos could garner that strong of a reaction.
A blurry image of a guy with a guitar filled the screen. Rhett stared at it for a beat, confused. It was clearly him, but it wasn’t any of their usual sets. He looked so young with his cropped hair and barely bearded face.
“What’s this?” Link asked, curiously leaning towards the laptop.
“Our researchers found a deleted Myspace page saved up on one of those vault sites. It appears to be Rhett’s, yes?” he asked looking at Rhett expectantly. Rhett nodded slowly as the image started to move. Young Rhett was strumming the guitar. There was a chill creeping inside Rhett now, making him weak and a bit nauseous. This couldn’t be…
“Really?” Link asked with a crooked smile, glancing at Rhett. “I didn’t know you had a Myspace page.”
Young Rhett was singing but no sound came from the laptop. The interviewer cursed and his hand shot to turn up the volume.
No! Oh, no. No, no, no.
Rhett was trying to make his limbs move. He waited for his fight or flight response to kick in, but he was stuck inside his immobile body, staring at the screen. He needed to shut this down before –
“…of his eyes. Lips red and moon kissed…” young Rhett sang from the laptop speakers. His voice was shaky but deep and full of emotion. Present Rhett was still frozen in place. His heart was thrumming in his ears and he wondered if you could faint from panic.
“…made me so weak, but it was the blue that got me, and threw me into the deep. And I wished he was mine, that night we –“
The video stopped. Rhett felt numb as he stared at Link’s long, slender fingers on the space bar.
“Oh, this one!” Link said as if he knew what he was talking about. “God, Rhett, you really didn’t know how to use your voice back then,” Link said with an affable laughter, playfully nudging Rhett’s side. Even as confused and panicked as Rhett felt, he realized that Link was trying to save him. He forced out a laugh that sounded more like a hoarse cackle.
The interviewer was watching them like a hawk and Rhett saw his hand move towards the laptop. Finally, Rhett’s self-preservation instincts kicked in, and he slammed the laptop closed. The interviewer almost got his hand caught inside it and jerked back. Rhett smiled at him, trying to look playful, but feared that his expression was probably more on the manic side. He coughed and let out a measured chuckle.
“Well, that was a blast from the past. Yeah, a friend of ours wanted to surprise her boyfriend with a song. But she wasn’t much of a composer, so Link and I helped her with that. She wrote the lyrics.”
“Oh,” the interviewer said, his face falling. “So, this was not about–?”
“You know what?” Link interrupted him. “I think Sarah is still with the guy.”
“Really? That’s nice. Good for her. They were a lovely couple,” Rhett mused.
“Okay. Well, I guess, that’s all…” the interviewer barely got out before Rhett was already getting up and with a hasty goodbye rushed to the door. Link followed close behind him as they left the conference room the hotel had provided for them. Jenna could barely keep up with them as they strode to the elevators.
Rhett was stealing glances at Link all the way up to their floor, wondering if he’d heard enough to know. If he’d made the connection. If he finally knew. But Link was closed off, no emotion showing on his face. A slight twitch at the corner of his lips was the only thing Rhett could see, but it told him nothing.
When the elevator doors opened, Link walked past Rhett, colliding with Rhett’s side with surprising force. Rhett was pushed aside by him and had to rub his arm that had gotten a sharp jab from Link’s elbow. There was no apology and the panic Rhett had felt when the video started playing gripped him again.
“Do you want me to order you guys some dinner?” Jenna asked as she followed Link out of the elevator. She’d been looking at her phone and missed Link’s strangely violent departure.
“Ummm. I think we’ll just order some room service and head to bed. Long day,” Rhett mumbled, distracted by his pounding heart and Link’s receding back.
“Okay. See you tomorrow,” Jenna chirped and turned the other way to head to her room.
Link was already inside their room when Rhett reached the open door. He followed in gingerly. Link was standing at the far end of the room, trying to get his jean jacket off with angry tugs. His whole body was strung tight – muscles tense and posture abnormally straight. He was about to go off. Rhett could see it clear as day.
Link knew.
Rhett’s knees almost bucked and with shaky legs, he sat on the edge of his bad. There was no other explanation. Link had realized who the song was about. Rhett pushed his hands against his thighs, trying to rid the sticky sweat that was gathering on his palms.
“Link, I – I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I…” he started. Link whipped around. His mouth was a tight line and his eyes blazed with anger.
“I can’t – I just can’t believe it! How long have you…? All these years… And to find out like that!“ Link’s voice was rising and there was a shrill edge to it.
“I should’ve told you. I know that. But you gotta understand… The way we were raised – You know how it was back then. And you… You were so – I thought if I told you…”
“You’re my best friend! You have been that for the past thirty-five years! You honestly thought you couldn’t confide in me?! I – Fuck, Rhett. I don’t even know… Who are you?” Link whispered, voice cracking. Rhett got up and stepped towards him.
Link threw his jacket on the floor with a thud, covered his mouth with his hand and rushed past Rhett, pushing him out of the way.
“I’m sorry! I am. But I thought – Link, please wait. Let me explain!” Rhett called after him. Link stopped with his hand on the doorknob. His posture was hunched and his whole body trembled as a sob ripped its way out of him.
“Who was it?” His voice was barely a whisper, and Rhett was sure he’d heard him wrong.
“What?”
“Who was it?” Link repeated, louder, turning around and staring at Rhett with a pained expression. “Who was the guy with the moon kissed lips? Did you – ?” Link’s voice cracked and his eyes slipped closed. “Did you just kiss him or was there more?”
Rhett stared at Link, mouth hanging open. Link thought…
“No. Wait, Link, no! I wasn’t – there wasn’t…”
“Just tell me. Was it someone I know? I need to know.”
“Please sit down.”
Link still stood at the door, eyes closed, trembling. “Tell me,” he repeated.
“I will,” Rhett promised. “Just sit down”
Link moved slowly, dragging his feet, avoiding Rhett’s gaze and sat on his bed. Rhett took a deep breath and grabbed his guitar.
“What are you –?” Link tried to ask but Rhett silenced him with a hand gesture.
“Just listen.” He strummed the guitar, trying to remember the chords. The lyrics were etched into his mind. He would have no trouble remembering those. That stupid song. Why had he ever uploaded it into the internet was still beyond him. Link shifted on the bed, opening his mouth, about to say something but when Rhett began to sing he fell silent and listened.
“It was like ice burning
In the dead of the night
It was the blue that made me fall
The blue of his eyes
Lips red and moon kissed
Made me so weak
But it was the blue that got me
And threw me into the deep
And I wished – oh how I wished
He was mine
That night we drank
Our strawberry wine
You said it had a bite
That it burned oh, so bright
I laughed and agreed
But, baby, I lied
Because no amount of wine
Could match the burn
Of my wish, oh how I yearn
That one day
You could be mine
After that night
All I wished from my life
Was that one day
You would be mine
The blue of his eyes still burns
Oh so bright.
Years have gone by
And I’m still by his side
Even though he’s not mine
The torch that I carry
Still has a flame as bright
As it was that night
And baby,
I still wish you were mine
Just like that night
When we drank
The bottle of sweet
Strawberry wine”
Rhett settled his palm over the strings of the guitar to silence it and slowly lifted his gaze to Link.
“Oh,” Link whispered, lips parted and eyes round.
“Yeah.”
Link got up and walked to the huge picture window showcasing a view of the city lights. Rhett put away the guitar and sat back down on his bed. He tried to find words. Something to say, to explain. But what else was there to say? Nothing. Now Link knew, and Rhett just had to deal with whatever the consequences would be.
The silence stretched and Rhett got lost in his memories. When Link finally spoke, it jarred Rhett into the present, making him jump and kick-starting his heart into an anxious flutter.
“The wine was horrible,” Link said. Rhett chuckled.
“It was.”
“I almost kissed you that night.”
Rhett’s heart missed a beat.
“What?” He’d gotten up without realizing it. Link’s back was still turned. Rhett walked up to him and with trembling hand pulled on his arm to make him turn.
“Please, say that again,” Rhett whispered. Link still refused to look at him, his gaze firmly trained on the burgundy carpet of the hotel room.
“I’d wanted to, for years. And I almost did. But…” He finally lifted his gaze and looked Rhett in the eyes.
“But?” Rhett coaxed him on.
“I was a coward. I was afraid of rejection… Of losing you. I –” Link’s voice broke and he turned his face away again. Rhett gently grabbed his chin and lifted it up. Link’s eyes were glistening with a film of tears and he gave Rhett a small, apologetic smile. One lone tear spilled over and rolled down his cheek. Rhett brushed it away and with a trembling voice said:
“We were both cowards.”
Rhett cupped Link’s cheek and his thumb slowly brushed along Link’s lower lip. Link’s lips parted and he let out a stuttering gasp. Rhett wondered if the beating of Link’s heart was as wild as his was. They stood close, bodies almost touching. Link closed his eyes for a beat and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, their icy flare almost burned a hole into Rhett’s stomach.
“I’m not a coward anymore,” Link whispered before grabbing Rhett’s collar and rising on his tiptoes.
And as their lips met for the first time, Rhett could have sworn that there was a faint taste of strawberry wine.
#rhink#rhink ficlet#Appa writes fic#prompted ficlet#angst and fluff#and one badly written song#(be kind. I've haven't written lyrics before)#Ross! I hope you like it
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Not Guilty- 2
murder mystery’s back! im having too much fun with this story guys
Link to chap 1 in case you need it
warnings: albert being a human disaster, abuse of the word ‘milk’
ship: ralbert, platonic spalbert
word count: 1680
editing: lmaoooo no
Chap 2
When Albert gets to the precinct the next morning, he’s wary to find a wrapped parcel on his desk that looks suspiciously like a sandwich. He pokes at it, frowning when he sees a singular smiley face drawn on the underside in black sharpie.
“Hey, uh, Spot?” He calls, looking up when he hears his partner’s chair roll out from his desk and subsequently poke his head around the low wooden wall that separates their cubicles.
“Yes, honeycakes?” Spot’s expression is the face of innocence and Albert’s stomach churns.
“Did you-” He stumbles, gesturing to the presumed sandwich, “Is this for me?”
“It’s on your desk, isn’t it?” Spot smiles, rolling back into his cubicle.
Albert sighs, taking off his messenger bag and jacket and sitting heavily in his desk chair. He cautiously unwraps the white paper to find a loaded meatball sub sitting in the middle of a napkin. There’s a sticky note placed delicately on the fluffy white bread and Albert plucks it up, squinting at the words:
Sorry you didn’t finish your sandwich xoxo Spottie
He laughs probably too loud and sticks the sticky note on his desktop, right next to the note from Jack that reads: ‘I’m sorry for stealing your pants, I had brains on mine’ after Jack had taken his extra pair of slacks from his locker when his got spoiled at a crime scene.
He takes a bite of the sandwich, pleased to find that he can still stomach his favorite Gianno’s special after yesterday’s events. As he chews, careful not to get any tomato sauce on his shirt, he plucks a sticky note from his own pad and scrawls out: Thanks, Pop Spotcket. Love u, dear xoxo and tosses it over to Spot.
A moment later, Spot snorts indignantly, “‘Pop Spotcket’? Really? Does anyone actually use those anymore? The only person I know who has one is my niece and she’s eleven.”
Albert rolls his chair so he’s in Spot’s cubicle, sandwich still in hand, “I have one, asshole. They’re useful. Anyway, thanks for the sandwich. How’s it looking at Gianno’s?”
Spot sighs wearily, placing a stack of papers down and turning from his computer to look at Albert, “Eh. They’re closed today. I stopped by this morning to pick up some evidence left at the crime scene and one of the waiters asked if I wanted anything and I remembered that you didn’t get to finish your lunch yesterday so…”
“Thanks, man,” Albert says, mouth full. Spot wrinkles his nose and tells him not to speak with food in his mouth. Albert rolls his eyes, “Anyway, evidence? What’s new?”
“Nothing really,” Spot says, “Just Wiesel’s receipt from his last meal. Wasn’t really much on it, but it gave us a sure timestamp that lines up with our original record, so at least that’s set.”
“Good,” Albert shoves the last bit of sandwich into his mouth, licking his fingers.
“Yeah. Saw our boy there, though.”
Albert raises his eyebrows, “Higgins?”
“Mhm.”
“How’s he?”
Spot shrugs, “Didn’t talk to him. Kid looked like shit. Well, more shitty than yesterday if that’s somehow possible. Kept sending cute little glares my way, fucking ray of sunshine, that one.”
“Christ,” Albert grimaces, “I’m convinced he’s a player in this debacle somehow. I mean, he seemed genuinely surprised when he found out the vic was Wiesel, but too many strings lead to connections on his end.”
“Yeah,” Spot agrees, “I dunno, I say we dig a little into Wiesel’s other relations as well. I feel like there’s a gap here somewhere.”
“Toxicology came back,” Albert says after a pause.
Spot looks at him, eyebrows raised, “And?”
“Sarin poison in the blood. Stab wounds were post-mortem. Someone wanted this shit to look messier than it is.”
“Interesting. I wonder who’d go through the trouble of poisoning, then following up with a physical attack. ‘Specially in a public place. S’kinda risky.”
“That’s what I was thinking, but whoever it was, clearly knew what they were doing.”
“Clearly…”
XXX
Albert never understood why there was such a wide variety of milks in the world. And why, in this moment, he can’t find any simple fucking 2%.
He scans over the selection again, bypassing the almond and oat milks and skimming over the fritzy lactose free shit. There’s strawberry milk and chocolate milk on display and even horrifyingly enough, mint milk, but no fucking 2%. It’s not even like this fucking bodega is big enough to warrant having so many milks.
He just wants some damn normal person milk!
“Excuse me, detective.”
Albert doesn’t startle. He doesn’t. He’s a trained law enforcement officer and detective. People like him don’t fucking startle. But, he is on high, professional alert when he turns around to see Antonio Fucking Higgins standing behind him, eyebrows raised in what’s probably amusement and hands shoved in his pockets.
Albert makes a strangled noise, eyes working on their own accord as they trail down Higgins’ body. He’s sweaty, looking like he just came from some sort of workout, and a pair of tight adidas running pants hug his legs in all the right places. He’s in a tank top today, somehow doing his arms more justice than the grey shirt he’d been wearing yesterday. A hat sits backwards on his head, doing little to tame the curls that are trying to sneak out of the stupid hole where the strap meets the fabric. He looks hot and it’s unfair and Albert’s never been ashamed of his sexuality, but right now he’s wishing that he could reign in his gay ass a little bit because aside from the fact that Higgins is a bit of a prick, he’s also a suspect and that’s, like, number one in the Book of Nope for cops of any kind.
Higgins is still looking at him, but now there’s a small crease of concern between his eyebrows, “You alright, man?” He asks, “You look kinda like you’re having a heart attack. Do you have any chest pain? Your left arm feel numb at all?”
Albert shakes himself, morphing his expression into something he hopes looks less like Gay Panic, “Yeah, sorry, I-” He splutters a bit, then shuts his mouth with a click.
Higgins scoffs, “I just need milk, man, you mind?”
Albert starts, hastily stepping out from where he was definitely blocking the milk selection and watching as Race grabs a carton of-- fucking 2%. How did he find it so fast? How did Albert not see it? He’s supposed to be the one trained to look for details others don’t see!
Trying not to flush, Albert reaches out and grabs a carton as well and Higgins looks at him again, laughing, “You were standing here for a long time, dude, I thought you were gonna murder the milk for a second.”
“Couldn’t find the 2%.” Albert mumbles, blushing harder when Higgins laughs louder.
“Real good reconnaissance there, detective.”
When Higgins is laughing, his face changes into something a whole lot more pleasant. Not that it was ever unpleasant (the dude’s got a jawline of a god), but some of the hardness in his eyes and shadows on his face go away and for just a second, he looks like the 25 year old he’s supposed to be. It’s nice, Albert thinks, ignoring the way alarm bells are going off in his head.
“Shut up, Higgins, I’m tired. Some of us have to read about murders all day, so excuse me if my milk finding skills aren’t the most refined.”
Higgins’ face softens and the smile in his eyes turns into something else that Albert doesn’t want to dissect, “Race.”
“What?”
“Higgins is my dad, not me. And I don’t like the name Antonio very much, so if we’re gonna be talking more, be it over murder or milk, call me Race.”
“Race?”
Higgins--Race--winks, “That’s a story for level five amici.”
“Oh, okay.”
They pause for a moment and even though Albert’s not drunk, his inhibitions seem to flutter away from him against his will as he blurts out, “Drinks sometime? Would- uh- would you wanna get drinks sometime?”
And fuck-fuck- SHIT- what are you doing Dasilva? What the fuck?
Race considers him for a moment, “Not that I wouldn’t hit that,” he nods to Albert’s body and Albert flushes. Damnit with the flushing! He’s 26, not some flouncy high schooler, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea, detective.”
Albert nods, “No, yeah, honestly I don’t know why I asked- uh-”
“Relax, don’t have an aneurysm, it’s okay. I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”
“No no, you’re right. Absolutely.”
There’s another pause, then Race smiles apologetically, “I gotta go get the rest of my groceries. Take care.”
Albert cringes internally at how fucking painfully awkward this exchange has been, “You too,” he says, watching Race retreat to the wine aisle. He takes another moment to gather himself, then goes to the checkout line.
XXX
Albert turns up the volume on his TV, pleased with the quiet solitude of his apartment for the night. He doesn’t love living alone, but it’s been a long couple days and he’s been looking forward to a night to himself since he’d woken up that morning. Just him, some thai, and the Animal Planet playing reruns of ‘It’s Me or the Dog’ all night. Fucking self care.
He’s just yelling at some dog owner on the TV for feeding his pug 24 eggs a day and watching as Victoria Stilwell chews out the greasy fucker when his phone rings on the coffee table in front of him.
Groaning, Albert mutes the show and chugs down a few sips of beer, before picking up the phone and answering with an annoyed, “Someone better be dying.”
There’s silence on the other end and Albert pulls the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID. It’s Spot. Shit, someone might actually be dying.”
“Spot? Everything okay?”
Spot sounds sheepish when he says, “Well no one’s dying, technically…”
“But…”
“There was another murder.”
“Shit.”
-
Race went straight home after the bodega, right? RIGHT!??!? stay tuned ;)
thanks saph for ‘pop spotcket’
thanks for reading, chiefs
hmu to be added to my tag
TAG LIST:
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#newsies#newsies fic#ralbert#spot conlon#racetrack higgins#albert dasilva#hehehe#murder boys#and#detective boys
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Dinner
Discord thread featuring: Ryleigh and Bear ( @laid-bear )
Where: Ryleigh’s (Aiden’s) Apartment
When: Friday
Description: Ryleigh cooks dinner for Bear, they enjoy some food, some conversation, a little smutty times.
Trigger Warnings: Smut.
Part 1
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh has never spent so long agonizing over what to cook for someone. She wants to impress him, though she really has no reason to want to do that. He's a nice guy who's having dinner with her because she'd offered and cooking is a passion in her life nobody can take away from her. People may have tried to take other things from her; her dignity, her innocence, her laughter, but they couldn't take this from her. So, Ryleigh finds her confidence between Bear's last message and her trip to the grocery store. She'd baked the dessert this morning - a strawberry shortcake cheesecake. He'd said he wasn't much of a sweets guy, so she tried not to go too overboard on the dessert, but cheesecake is one of her favorites and you can't go wrong with strawberries, right? She's just slipped a pan of vegetables, tossed in her specialty garlic and herb sauce into the oven when she hears a knock on her door. Thank God, she's managed to get Aiden out of the apartment for the evening without much argument on his part. Curiosity, yes, but her brother is never going to say no to spending more time with Cory, she doesn't think. "Just a minute!" Ryleigh calls, wiping her hands on one of the dish towels. The steak is still marinating and has about fifteen minutes left before she can slip them onto the small grill she'd bought about a week ago because Aiden needed one. Readjusting the cardigan on her shoulders, she smooths her hands down the front of her shirt, vaguely wonders if she should've just thrown on a t-shirt, but it's too late to change her mind as she shuffles toward the front door, pulling it open. "Hey, sorry, I was putting the vegetables in the oven, come in!" Ryleigh greets him with a wide smile, her lips lightly glossed as they'd been when she found him in the coffee shop, her golden hair down and spilling around her shoulders this time.
"Did you find the place okay?" She questions as her gaze drinks him in. It's not the first time her fingers have itched to touch his face, to push through the scruff there just to see what it would feel like against her skin. Instead, she closes the door behind him and flips the lock, making a beeline back toward the kitchen. "I hope you like steak? There were a couple of other dishes I thought of, but you can never go wrong with a good steak," she muses lightly, turning on the small grill so it can warm up while she waits for the steak to finish marinated. "Please, have a seat, take your coat off... can I get you anything? Water? I think Aiden has beer in the fridge somewhere," Ryleigh offers brightly as she faces him.
BEAR
Bear slept in late on Friday morning. He normally hated not getting up with the sun, didn't like what it felt like to wake up with sun streaming in through the window, the sounds of cars and and people who'd already begun their day filling his ears as he laid in bed. He hated that shit. And yet when he'd passed out, he knew he was going to sleep hard. That was what happened after you worked two overnight shifts at a strip club and spent the early parts of the morning peeling wasted guys off of girls who just wanted to go home and take a shower. When he'd finally decided to get out of bed and showered himself, he wondered why he'd agreed to go to Ryleigh's house. He didn't know her. She was definitely much younger than her. And, again, he didn't know her. This was not normal behavior for him, and he wasn't sure if it was a particularly good idea to be alone in an apartment with a girl he didn't know. So as he showered, he rehearsed how he would cancel. Should he text her? Call her? Should he wait until he got to her place, then get one of his buddies from home to call him pretending to be his boss calling him in for a shift? As he toweled off, he'd decided to just pick up the phone and bite the bullet, make sure she hadn't decided to cancel herself--which might have been a relief--before he gave her something that didn't sound too much like a line. But then...he hadn't been able to do it. He didn't know why. It should've been easy, especially with how disconnected he always felt with texting people--it always felt so mechanical and robotic...he didn't like not being able to gauge tone, either. But he found himself agreeing to go over there, adding her address to her contact information and wondering what the hell he was doing. He spent the afternoon distractedly watching TV. It was the first time he'd owned one since he lived in Alaska and he found he had like...literally thousands of things to watch but he was distracted as he flipped through the options, mind only
managing to stay on one thing for a few moments before he remembered his plans for the night and he was distracted all over again. When it got to be about an hour before he was meant to show up, he drove in the direction that Ryleigh lived and parked, walking through a few shops. She had told him not to bring anything but he couldn't just show up empty handed, eat her food, and fuck off. After debating a few things, he somehow ended up with a cactus. Why a cactus? No idea. Girls liked plants though, right? So he showed up at Ryleigh's place, cactus in hand, and knocked, nerves suddenly shooting to his gut as she answered the door. Something about that smile...he was totally baffled by how he felt when she smiled every time, like he couldn't help but matching it, feeling unaccustomed to the warmth after so long without it. "Smells great," he said as he walked in, following her into the house and looking around a little before he moved to put the cactus on a spot on the counter far from the food. Maybe he shouldn't mention it? Should he not of brought it? He felt stupid but pushed the feeling aside as he shrugged out of his coat. "I love steak," he said, genuinely pleased, and looked over at her, watching her for a beat before he hung his coat over the back of a chair. "Can I help with something?" he asked, leaning against the counter before slipping past her, hand brushing her waist, before he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. "You're already doing everything, let me at least get this," he said, extending a bottle to her with one hand as he grabbed another for himself.
RYLEIGH
He's carrying a cactus. A small cactus, but a cactus none the less and the fact that he brought anything... she tries not to think too much on it, choosing to focus all of her attention on the cactus. "It's going to taste just as amazing. You brought me a cactus? I've never taken care of a cactus. I barely manage Elton, he's my hedgehog, but I love it, thank you," Ryleigh beams brilliantly in his direction while he removes his coat and drapes over the back of a chair. Her gaze lingers on his biceps, on the sheer size of him taking up space in the kitchen Ryleigh typically flits around so easily. It's part of the reason why Aiden calls her humming bird. She can never sit still. "N-o, I think.. I got it," she answers, hoping he doesn't catch the hitch in her voice when his hand brushes along her waist. Only just, but with enough presence for her to feel it down to the tips of her toes. Those familiar knots are back, the ones she'd felt sitting across from him in the coffee shop, and she hopes she's not going to make a complete fool out of herself. He offers her one of the beers, which Ryleigh takes, but doesn't drink, slipping the bottle onto the counter next to her. It'd be rude not to take it from him, and usually people are so put off by the fact that she doesn't drink. However, after a moment, she smiles warmly at him. "Thanks, I don't really drink, but you can keep that one out for you also, if you'd like?" She nods toward the bottle as she proceeds to cut up a few more vegetables for the small salad she's put together. There are potatoes, too, already boiled and ready to be mashed down, but she'll get to those in a second.
BEAR
Oh my God, why did he bring a stupid fucking cactus? Who brings a cactus to dinner? He had originally planned on bringing a bottle of wine but then chickened out, what if she didn't like wine? It turns out that both of his ideas were stupid because a) she doesn't seem like a plant person now that she's talked about it and b) she doesn't drink. Genius, Bear. His internal monologue is a lot of beating himself up which surprises him considering this was not supposed to be a big deal, it's dinner with a girl--a fucking beautiful girl who smiles all the time and who Bear is pretty sure can't weigh more than like seven pounds--but still just dinner. He reached into his pocket for something to do with his hands, pulling out his keys and using a bottle opener keychain to pry the cap from the glass. He tucked the cap and keys back in his pocket, wondering if he should've gone along with his original plan, why the hell was he so nervous? "What--no, it's cool, I'll--I'm good with the one," he said, clearing his throat and getting a handle on himself after what he was sure was a slightly too long pause. He leaned against the counter at a spot where he hoped he wouldn't be too much in the way, watching her hands because that felt like a safe option at the moment, taking a deep sip from the beer bottle. He vaguely wondered if she grew up around alcoholics too or if it was something else--he wanted to ask her, but it was definitely not the question for right now. "Damn, you've really gone all out," he said after he registered how many things she had going at once. "I hope I'm not putting you out."
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh loves the cactus, because it won't die if she goes a day without watering it (she vaguely remembers something about cacti being able to retain their own water?) and the fact that he'd thought about bringing anything at all? There was definitely more than meets the eye to this man and Ryleigh can't wait to learn as much as she can about him. "Okay, sorry. It's more of a personal choice than anything else. I've never really had a taste for it and the one and only time I ever touched alcohol back in high school, I ended up three hours away from home with no memory as to how I got there, so I typically avoid it," she explains as she finishes the tomatoes, tosses them in a mixing bowl with the lettuce, before moving on to the radishes. It wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough of it he probably wouldn't try to question it further. Parts of her past Ryleigh rarely likes to revisit. "What? No! Honestly, I love stuff like this," she assures him, lifting her gaze to meet his, enjoying the image of him leaning against the counter, in her kitchen (because she's definitely stolen it from her brother), a little too much. Finishing up the radishes, she tosses them into the bowl as well, before grabbing up the small bowl she'd mixed a dressing into. Dipping her finger into it, she slips it past her lips for taste, a soft sound of approval in her throat. "That's so good, here, try this," she insists with hopeful eyes and without thinking, repeats the action before offering her index finger to him, dressing dripping down the slender digit.
BEAR
Bear shook his head as Ryleigh explained the alcohol thing, not wanting her to feel obligated to talk about it but he winced a little all the same at the story. "Yeah...definitely not a stranger to nights like that," he said, scratching the back of his neck a little sheepishly, tone making it clear that he'd had his fair share of ending up somewhere with no memory of the thing, obviously not knowing the deeper layer there. "I'm not judging, whatever works," he said, not sure really how he felt about it or if he should feel a way about it given that this girl's choices definitely shouldn't have been something he was thinking about affecting him. He watched her work, half smiling when she reassured him, even more so when he met her eyes. He liked watching her work, the deft way she used a knife or moved about the kitchen. It was familiar and relaxed him a little, the routine of it, the obvious ease with which she moved through her tasks. When he watched her suck dressing off her finger, though, he tensed a little, feeling his adam's apple bob a little at the sight. Fuck. He looked at her finger as she offered it to him, wondering what the hell he was meant to do. About seven different options--including just dipping and making his way out of there without saying a word--crossed his mind...but he was pretty set on not embarrassing her so, mind going blank, he leaned forward and sucked the dressing from her index finger, tongue grazing the tip of it before he pulled away, entire body aware of what he just did. "Mhm," he mumbled, nodding in agreement. "Better than the store bought stuff."
RYLEIGH
For a heartbeat, Ryleigh debates taking her hand back when he tenses. It's subtle, but her own gaze is drawn to his neck, where she'd been mesmerized by the tenseness of his muscle before. In the coffee shop, which seems like it was a life time ago, but it's really only been a few days. She's close to following through, to take her hand back and apologizing for how forward that might've seemed, when his lips close around the slender digit instead. Heat flickers up her arm as the warmth envelopes her finger, a bare brush of his tongue against the tip making everything south of her naval clench tightly. It happens so quickly, a blink of an eye, truly, and she's taking her hand back, a wild flush coloring her porcelain cheeks. "Absolutely better than the store bought stuff. I won't buy bottled dressing anymore unless I'm in a bind," she agrees, hoping her voice sounds a lot less breathless than she feels right about now. Lips quiver into a soft grin when she realizes the time, and she spins away from him - thankful her path to the refrigerator is clear - to grab the marinated steaks from inside. A couple minutes later, a familiar sizzle echoes through the kitchen as she lays the steaks onto the hot grill, inhaling the scent of herbs and spices. It's almost as mouthwatering as the warm, woodsy scent of him she'd caught the moment he walked past her earlier.
BEAR
Bear watched her intently as she pulled away, studying her as if the flush on her skin could give him some idea of what was going on in her mind, because his own thoughts were a mess. While his body was currently following every demand his brain was telling him to hide it--and successfully so, thank God--he was turned on. He tried to think of a time he'd ever not sexually had someone's fingers in his mouth or vice versa and he grew an absolute blank. Then again, he couldn't remember a time when he'd randomly accepted an invitation to have a girl cook for him, so maybe he was just going to have to lean in to the fact that everything was going to be abnormal. That said, he liked how the color looked on her cheeks and he wondered if it had traveled anywhere else. He sat with that thought as he took another long sip of beer, telling himself that he was only going to have the one as much as he wanted to get a little drunk and dull whatever weird thoughts and feelings were plaguing him. He kept his eyes on her, almost not noticing the food or how good it looked. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence...instead, he watched her, lips pressed together in thought. After a long pause, he spoke. "You really do know what the fuck you're doing, don't you?" he nodded to the grill top.
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh steps away from the grill to allow the steaks to cook. His statement does nothing to diminish the flush in her cheeks despite the way she beams proudly at him. "I've been cooking since I was about eight? I kind of had to learn to fend for myself so ever since I started throwing things in a pan to see what worked, it's been a passion of mine. Baking on the side is more of a guilty pleasure." Ryleigh explains with a gentle shrug, shifting back to the salad where she finally mixes the dressing with the lettuce. "In that cabinet behind you? Would you mind grabbing a couple plates and bowls for me? I usually have to climb onto the counter to get them, but since you're here...?" Her voice trails, giving him a proper smile which says 'please?' before she moves to take the bowl of salad to the small table Aiden owns. She sets it down on the middle, along with the salt and pepper she'd grabbed, before making a beeline for the refrigerator again to grab out sour cream and an herb butter. Ryleigh's motions are fluid and graceful, there's no thinking twice about what she's doing with the meal because this is all second nature to her. "How done do you prefer your steak?" She asks while adding sour cream and butter to the potatoes she's already boiled so she can mash them down. Her gaze shifts back to him as she takes the hand held masher and starts to work it into the bowl in front of her, wondering if he's ever going to catch her in a moment where she's staring at him for a little too long. Can she really be blamed?
BEAR
Bear listened to Ryleigh talk about fending for herself from a young age and he raised a brow, especially at the age that she mentioned...he'd only been nine when his mom had walked into the bay, and that had marked the beginning of basically taking care of himself as well. He felt a kinship with her, definitely listening as she talked but a little distracted by the fact that it was starting to seem like maybe she'd had a rough upbringing. He felt a little of his awkwardness crumble at that, half smiling when she talked about baking. "Well, it seems like it paid of," he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile before hoe nodded, moving to carefully grab the plates and bowls she'd asked for, snorting because it was an easy reach for him and basically at eye level. He took them down and moved them to the counter, brushing past her again to wash his hands, looking over as he scrubbed his palms when she asked the question. "Medium, medium rare, I'm not picky," he said truthfully, watching her hands for a moment and then her face once she looked away.
RYLEIGH
"We'll see," she grins, a little envious of his ease with which he's able to grab the dishes from the cabinet. She hadn't been exaggerating when she mentioned climbing onto the counter - sometimes she uses the step stool, or she has to hop up to grab what she needs. He's able to do it so effortlessly and she appreciates his help. He brushes past her as he sets them down, a waft of woods and warmth completely distracting her, her motions stuttering just slightly. Ryleigh takes that as her cue to step away from the bowl for the moment, flipping the steaks about seven minutes after she'd first put them on. "You say that, but I've seen people go crazy when their steak isn't cooked right," she teases, crossing back to the bowl to finish mashing the potatoes. Once those are done, she, again, dips her finger into the mixture (it's not very sanitary and she wouldn't do it if she wasn't cooking for someone she considers a friend... an acquaintance?) to taste for seasoning. "Hey, can you try this and see if you think it needs anything else?" She asks, this time grabbing a spoon for him, because she's not sure she can take another moment like before without throwing caution to the wind and throwing herself on him. Dipping the spoon into the potatoes, she holds the silverware out to him, an expectant look in her eyes.
BEAR
Bear laughed a little at the comment about stakes being cooked wrong, shaking his head a little. "I've seen that too.." he said, thinking about a time his father threw a plate like a frisbee at his mother and then shaking the memory off. "As far as I'm concerned, having food in my stomach is about as good as I can ask for, anything else is just a bonus," he said, moving to dry his hands on a towel before he raised a brow and moved toward her. Bear took the spoon from her, sliding it into his mouth and making a pleased face at that. "S'good," he said as he swallowed, moving to scrub the spoon clean before he handed it back to her. "Really good," he followed up as he met her eye, meaning it genuinely. "Seriously, you've gotta give me something to do to help...like I told you the other day, idle hands," he said, clearly joking but God also just wanting something to do that wasn't stare at her.
RYLEIGH
If only everyone could have that same thought process, though. “I like the way you think, Bear,” Ryleigh compliments. When he tastes her potatoes, she’s unable to stop beaming the way she is, grateful he’d enjoyed that small taste. “Okay... how good are you with a knife?” She asks curiously, brow arched in a teasing manner before she takes the bowl of finished potatoes to the table. Returning back to the kitchen, she reaches into the refrigerator to grab the package of half used strawberries, turning to him to offer the package to him. “Can you slice up some of these for me? They’re to go with dessert,” she explains, finding him a cutting board and a small knife to cut the fruit with, setting him up on a space of counter by the sink. When she moves to walk away from him, her hand absently brushes against his, fighting this innate urge she has to trail her fingers up his arm - to follow the strong chords of muscle until she reaches the peak of his tattoo. Taking a step back, her teeth dragging over her lower lip, she spins away from him to check on the steaks.
BEAR
Bear liked the way she said his name, the way she smiled at him...he was a little distracted, so much so that he didn't realize what she'd said at first. "Wha--oh, yeah, great with a knife," he said, shaking his head a little as he snapped out of it. He was glad to have something to do with his hands, glad to have the threat of slicing his thumb off keeping his attention on something other than her and how tiny she was and the fact that every time they touched all he wanted to do was stop what he was doing, for her to stop what she was doing, and for them to keep touching each other. But in a totally platonic way, don't make it weird, Bear, just cut the fucking fruit. He did a very passable job of slicing strawberries, only looking up a few times to watch her with the steaks. He took in the way her ass looked in her jeans, the sliver of skin between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband, how her hair was so blonde it almost looked white. After putting his attention back on the job at hand and finishing up, he looked at her over his shoulder. "Anything else you need me to do?"
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh takes care to plate the steaks, leaving them to rest because that’s how they keep their juiciness. Behind her, she can hear the rhythmic chopping Bear is doing, and she’s trying her best not to slip in front of him and take control, not because she doesn’t believe in him, but because she wants to be close to him. Is that strange? To want to be close to someone she’s only known for two weeks and has maybe three conversations with? The timer on the oven goes off, prompting her to pull the pan of roasted vegetables from inside, the aroma of garlic and herbs becoming more prominent in the kitchen. “Here,” she offers at his question, taking the cheesecake from the refrigerator and sliding it onto the counter beside him. “Just take the slices like this,” she starts, having to each over in front of him, her hand barely brushing his torso when she does, to grab a few of the slices before she starts fanning them out along the edges of the crust. “Can you finish this while I set the table?” Ryleigh queries softly, glancing up at him as she remains next to him. She pops a slice of strawberry into her mouth, a drop of juice from the ripe fruit caught on her bottom lip.
BEAR
Bear is glad for something to do because she's close to him, closer than before, and unlike before she's not moving right away and he definitely needs to do something with his hands. He starts to put the strawberries along the edge like she'd showed him, his work not as meticulous or as neat as hers because he was distracted and also because he didn't really care to be. He nodded at her, looking up from his work at the question and meeting her eye, head tilted down toward her. "Yeah, go for it--" he said, watching her eat the strawberry and catching sight of the juice on her mouth. Fuck. He cleared his throat and put his eyes back down to the cut up strawberries again before he looked at her. "You've got a little--" he said, rubbing his thumb over his lip to show her, just as he had the spot on his chin when she'd had icing there before.
RYLEIGH
She probably spends far too long watching his fingers with the strawberries, juices clinging to his own skin with ever strawberry laid down. It’s a mess and she doesn’t want to critique him because he’s helping her, especially when she’s far too occupied with thinking about how his fingers would taste if she— “Hm? What?” Her brows furrow together, a cute little crinkle in the center of her forehead, before she notices what he’s doing. “Oh- shoot, I— wow, why am I always a mess around you?” Ryleigh laughs, wiping her hand over her mouth before stepping away to wash her hands. “Everything’s ready, so once you’re done with that, we can eat,” she suggests while playing the roasted vegetable next to the steak. Utensils are grabbed, plates are carried to the table. Bowls are placed next to the plates for the salad. All appliances have been turned off. “Alright, come, come, have a seat,” she waves him over as she shrugs out of her cardigan because it’s warm in the apartment now. Her arms are bare, an ugly thin scar following the length of her forearm of her left arm from her elbow to two inches above her wrist, and there’s a sliver of skin between her shirt and the high waist of her jeans. “Thank you for helping me,” Ryleigh smiles at him, serving them both a small bowl of the salad.
BEAR
Bear watched her face and wishes he would reached up and smoothed the pad of his thumb across her lip so he would know if it was as soft as it looks. But that’s definitely not something you do to a stranger when you’re in their house and they’ve done nothing but be nice to you. Maybe Ryleigh was like this with everyone. Maybe she was one of those girls who just didn’t know how to not to move through the world in a way that seemed like he was always flirting—he’d know them, there was nothing wrong with that aside from the fact that it was confusing, but it would’ve ultimately been his problem. He wants to tell her she’s not a mess but he knows his tone wouldn’t be right so he doesn’t, instead glancing at his finished work before he cross the room to the table. He sits down across from her, wondering how the hell it ended up this way—weren’t first hangouts normally concerts or drinks or movies, platonic or otherwise?—before he moved his napkin to his lap and looks at her. His eyes trace briefly over the scar, careful to look away quickly so she won’t catch him staring. “I barely did anything,” he said, glad to have something to think about other than all of the new skin he can see. “This is like...all fucking out though,” he said, watching her put salad into his bowl. “You honestly didn’t need to do all this, you could’ve put a hot dog in front of me and I’d’ve been grateful.”
RYLEIGH
"You did enough!" She's quick to argue lightly, no real heat in her voice. "You definitely helped, trust me. I know I didn't need to, but I like doing things like this. Food is a universal language because we all have to eat it and why not be able to share what I know?" Ryleigh shrugs gently, reaching for her fork before she realizes she'd left the steak sauce in the fridge. "Oh, wait," she stands from the table to rush back to the kitchen, another tug of the refrigerator door and she's grabbing the bottle of A1 from the door, a bottle of water for herself, and another beer for him just in case his was warm now. Returning, she drops back into her seat after setting the beer in front of him, the water in front of her and the steak sauce in the middle of the table. "Try it without the sauce, first, but just in case you prefer it with," she suggests, lips pulled into a knowing grin. Any time she's made steak in the past, nobody has had to eat sauce with it, and isn't that a testament to a truly well cooked steak, flavoring and all? "Tell me something about you, Bear. Anything you want to tell me," Ryleigh questions after taking a bite of her salad, eager to get to know all there is to know about this mysterious human in front of her.
BEAR
Bear likes that she doesn’t seem to roll over when he disagrees with her, doesn’t do that thing that girls sometimes do when they scoff and then act like they’d meant to be saying the thing you were saying the whole time. He had spent time with girls who’d been that way, he’d watched his friends back home marry them. He liked a bit of a background, someone who seemed like they’d fight him if they thought he was wrong. He finds it admirable. He watches her get up, already knowing he wouldn’t touch the sauce—it was basically sacrilegious as far as he was concerned, and he knew by the smell that it was well seasoned. He looks at the beer, deciding the break the rule he set earlier as he grabs his keys from his pocket and pops the cap off, setting it next to his knife before he took a sip. “Tell me about you instead,” he shakes his head, picking up his fork to take a bite of his salad as well, tasting the dressing and thinking about how it had tasted different on his skin earlier. He chews before going on, “How d’you like it here?”
RYLEIGH
He deters from answering her question, which could mean he's not the type to ever talk about himself or he merely doesn't have anything he's itching to share. Or he simply doesn't want her to know, but if he truly didn't want to spend time with her, he wouldn't have allowed himself to come to dinner... right? Ryleigh bats away those momentary thoughts, because she's not about to let her own insecurities ruin a perfectly good meal. "It's different. I grew up in Kentucky and then lived in New York for a few years and I guess you could say Dayton's almost a happy medium between the two? Not quite big city, but certainly not a small town by any means." She answers after swallowing her first bite. "Honestly, I only moved here at first because my brother lives here and my friend Sadie convinced me I'd fall in love. I've been here two months already and... I'm not in love with the city, yet, but I guess I can see how it grows on people."
BEAR
Bear listens to her answer as he takes another bite, liking the way her voice sounds and the careful way she seems to talk. He watches her, fork hovering above his bowl of salad, next bite temporarily forgotten as he tries to imagine her in Kentucky, a place he’s only ever heard about on the news and in school. That would explain the accent then. He wonders where her brother is now, whether he’s going to show up and Bear is going to have to awkwardly introduce himself as a guy who once ran into his sister at a bakery looking for a coffee. He lets those thoughts ebb away though, nodding a little at her answer as he tires to think of something worthwhile to say. “This isn’t the forever place then?” He prompts.
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh leans back in her chair, her legs crossed beneath the table at her knees, and she chews and swallows down the bite of her vegetables she'd just taken before answering him. "I wouldn't say it's a forever place? I don't know, honestly. I kind of left New York on a whim with no destination in mind." She answers, a shadow of quiet in her usually bright gaze as her eyes drop away from him to settle on her plate instead. Nobody knows her truth. Cooper knows a little bit, but not enough to really know anything beyond making his own assumptions. "I called Sadie my second day on the road and she convinced me to make the trek cross country, and here I am." Ryleigh adds, a soft almost laugh rolling off of her tongue before she pushes another smile onto her lips and raises her eyes to his once more. "What about you? Is Dayton a forever place for you?"
BEAR
Bear listens, brows drawing together ever so slightly at the change in her voice and demeanor, wondering if there was more to the story than she’s telling him. He knows without giving it a second thought that there almost certainly is, but he doesn’t push, instead nodding to show her he’s listening and taking a sip of his beer and snorting a little bit at her question. “No. I don’t know if there’s such thing as a forever place for me, but if there is I know it’s not this,” he answers confidently, spearing a bite of steak on his fork and eating it, making a pleased sound. “So good,” he complements, wiping his mouth.
RYLEIGH
She's not sure why his answer disappoints her. Dayton isn't really one of those places anybody should be settling down in, let alone someone who wants more out of life. From what she's seen, what she's heard... there's a chance Ryleigh won't last a year in Dayton, let alone six months, but to know Bear probably won't be around for long, either... however long that might be? "Out of all of the places you've been, what's been your favorite?" Ryleigh questions then, her smile warming genuinely as he takes a bite of the steak for the first time. His compliment warms her, and she appreciates his enthusiasm - ignoring how that familiar tingle behind her naval only grows when that pleased sound rumbles in his throat.
BEAR
Bear thinks about the question, running through the mental queue of places he’d been since he’d left Alaska. It takes him a moment before he answers, never having really given thought to the places he’d been in terms of liking one over the other....at the time, they’d just been moments, transitory. “For a couple of months in my early twenties, I ended up on an island off the coast of Washington state called Vashon,” he begins, pausing to take a sip of his beer. “It’s small, only about forty square miles, only about 10,000 people,” he adds, cutting his steak now. “I worked in a brewery there for six months...I liked it a lot. It was probably the easiest living I’ve ever had—only worked one job, rented a trailer from a farmer and lived out behind his lot...” he trailed off. “Uncomplicated,” he said, taking another bite of steak.
RYLEIGH
Fascinated by him, Ryleigh leans forward as she cuts into her own steak, able to take a few bites of the meat while listening to him answer her question. She's surprised he does, considering how he'd skipped over her last one. "It sounds beautiful... life being uncomplicated for a while," she sighs wistfully, digging into her potatoes then. "Have you ever considered settling down somewhere? Or do you feel like you'll always constantly be moving?" She rubs her free hand against the top of her thigh out of habit, brushing away an invisible itch against her palm.
BEAR
Bear thinks of Ryleigh in a bakery with icing on her chin and wonders how complicated her life is now, knows that there must be more to what’s going on with her than she’s saying if she doesn’t feel like life’s uncomplicated. “It was,” he agrees when she says life like that sounded beautiful. It had been. He looks over at her, taking a bite of his vegetables before he answers. “I’m not sure,” he says honestly, meeting her eye. “In some ways I’m tired of starting over. In others, not being able to start over sounds awful.”
RYLEIGH
She hums softly, thoughts drifting toward a life where she doesn't have to constantly feel on edge. Worried one wrong move is going to send her hurdling back a hundred feet and completely negate all the progress she's made thus far. An uncomplicated life. Living in Dayton is the most uncomplicated her life has been, if you don't count the sudden surfacing of a sister she hasn't seen in six years and her brother, who's love triangle woes had left Ryleigh's head spinning the moment she'd moved in with him a few weeks ago. "Alright, if you could pick anywhere in the world you'd want to start over and put down roots, to make a home, where do you think that'd be?" She questions next, finishing off her salad after the query as left her lips before she's reaching for her bottle of water to cleanse her palette with.
BEAR
Bear thinks about putting down roots and is surprised when he doesn’t know what to say. He opens his mouth, waiting for an opinion to come out, and....nothing. He takes a sip of the beer for something to do, shaking his head a little as he tries to come up with something. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Not a specific place, but I’d like to live somewhere where it’s cold at least half the year...maybe have a cabin, a little bit of land, something near the water, some kind of rocky beach or a lake...” he trails of, surprised that he’s said this given that he’d never really given it a second thought.
RYLEIGH
He paints a pretty picture. Somewhere cold, a cabin in the middle of nowhere. She can picture him there, in the middle of winter, in the snow and she smiles warmly in response to the image she paints in her head of him. "I can see that for you... it sounds nice." Ryleigh appraises, taking a few more bits of her steak before she's more than ready to set aside the rest of her meal and dig in to the dessert. She's always had a bit of a sweet tooth. "My ultimate dream is to own my own bistro in Paris. I don't know that it will actually ever happen, but it's a nice thought. My back up plan, though, is to find a nice coastal town in Maine or Vermont, and open up a bakery there. I loved winters in New York and there's something magical about eating a warm pastry in the middle of winter with a good cup of coffee, snow falling around you," she sighs wistfully, rubbing her thumb along the side of her plate.
BEAR
Bear smiles a little at her as she talks about how she’d live, totally able to imagine her in what he thinks Paris must be like and also somewhere on a coast. He can’t help but acknowledge, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, that her second-best option sounds a little similar to his. He doesn’t like his mind linger on that though, instead nodding at her. “From what I know of you, both of those fit,” he says before finishing his last bite of steak, sitting back from the table.
RYLEIGH
His words make her smile widen and when he leans back in his chair, she's far too happy that he's managed to eat everything. "So... what did you think?" She motions toward the empty plate, her own nearly empty, but there's still a few bites of steak left, a couple forkfuls of potato and one or two roasted vegetables. "Do you have room for dessert or do you want to hold off for now?" Ryleigh adds, leaning back in her own chair to take a few more sips from her water bottle.
BEAR
“You’re a fantastic cook,” Bear says genuinely, smiling a little as she leans back and his posture matches hers. “I’m full up right now, Meadows, couldn’t take another bite if I tried,” he says, taking a sip of his beer before he places it back down on the table and folds his arms across his chest.
RYLEIGH
Clapping her hands together, his compliment has her beaming so brightly, her cheeks hurt a little from smiling so much around him. "Dessert later then. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Any time you want another home cooked meal, just let me know. I'm your girl," she offers, standing to start clearing the empty dishes. She can store whats left over on the sides for Bear to take home with him, or if he doesn't want to do that, she knows Aiden will eat them.
BEAR
Bear quickly stands to pick up his own plate, gathering that and his silverware and salad bowl and whatever else he can carry. “Not gonna let you do this too,” he says, brushing past her and shooting her a half smile over his shoulder. “Give me you yours, show me to soap and a sponge and I can take it from here.”
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh quickly follows after him, carrying her own set of plates to set them down on the counter next to the sink. “You don’t have to! I can wash them,” she tries to tell him, but has a feeling he isn’t going to take no for an answer on this one. “You wash, I dry?” She suggests a compromise while showing him where all the cleaning supplies are.
BEAR
Bear feels pleased that he’s basically gotten what he wanted, though he can’t think of a single time in his adult life that he’s ever fought anyone to do the dishes. “Deal,” he says, meeting her eye for a beat before he turns on the warm water and squirts soap on the sponge, wetting it before he starts on a plate. He cleans it, eyes going over it once more to be sure, before he passes it to her, not minding the quiet.
RYLEIGH
She usually hates allowing anyone to clean up after her messes, but the compromise she makes keeps her close to him. Something she shouldn’t aim for, but finds she wants to be as close to him as possible. Ryleigh dries the first plate carefully, setting it to the side, waiting for another. She’s chewing on her lower lip as the silence settles around them, contemplating where the evening might take them next.
BEAR
Bear works on his own plate next, scrubbing it in the same methodical way and rinsing before he handed it off to Ryleigh, liking the way that her hands felt cool on his even as he tries to actively ignore it. After a few moments, he fills the silence. “So what did Dayton do before you became the unofficial welcoming committee?” he says tone light and voice a little quieter than before because she’s so close. The question is a joke, rhetorical, but somewhere in the back of his mind Bear knows he’s asking if she does this often.
RYLEIGH
She takes the next plate, drying that one as well, setting it onto the one she’s already dried. His voice breaks the silence, a pleasurable sound she definitely wants to hear more of as she laughs quietly. “I’m not sure, actually? I mean who doesn’t want to be welcomed with a home cooked meal? It’s funny, actually,” she answers, taking the next dish from him to dry that one as well, “about a month ago I actually ran into someone at the grocery store who asked me for advice on a meal to help him get laid. He had a friend he was inviting over and wanted to cook dinner for, so I helped him out together this spaghetti meal. It was probably one of the most fascinating interactions I’ve had with someone.” Ryleigh finishes with fond sigh, reaching for the next dish, but when the remnants of water coats her fingers, she playfully flicks the couple drops in his direction. “I’m sure you’ve received all kinds of welcoming committees, though, with a smile like yours.”
BEAR
For some reason, hearing her talking about helping someone get laid makes Bear laugh before he can stop himself. He grins, shaking his head a little and looking down at her. “So you basically catered someone else’s date?” He asks, looking amused at this. When she flicks water at him, he sticks his hand under the tap and splashes a little at her before starting to scrub one of the bowls. When she mentions his smile, his grin widens and he lets out a little bit of a snort. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounded like a line.”
RYLEIGH
His laugh is even better than his voice, which she didn’t think was at all possible. She wants to hear it again. “Well when you put it that way, yeah.” Ryleigh laughs with him. When he flicks water at her using the tap though, she squeals and holds up the dish in her hand to block whatever he flicks at her. Her mouth drops open, almost surprised he retaliated. “Oh? Is that what you think it sounded like?” The faucet is one of those detachable ones, so while he’s mid scrubbing the bowl, she reaches across to pull it free from the spout and angling it to flick more water at him. Except it’s definitely more of a spray and there’s definitely wet spots on his shirt now. An almost apologetic look dances over her face as she blinks up at him. “Oops?”
BEAR
Bear grins at her agreeing with him, shaking his head a little because he’d expected a fight and hasn’t gotten one which surprises him—why was he always surprised by her? “That’s what I’m certain it sounded like—shit!” He laughs again, reaching for the nozzle in her hand and closing some of the distance between them. He wraps one of his hands around the spout and probably a few of her fingers to block it. “You might’ve just gotten yourself in trouble, Meadows,” he says with a bit of a smirk. “Haven’t you ever heard you should only pick on people your own size?”
RYLEIGH
His hand wraps around the nozzle in her hand, completely encompassing it and a couple of her finger in the process, but she’s far too focused on how the distance between them has definitely lessened and he’s smirking down at her. “I grew up with three siblings in the middle of the country... you think I can’t handle a little trouble, Everett?” She responds in kind, an easy smirk on her own lips, even as she tries to wiggle the nozzle free from his grip. “Are you kidding me? Picking on people my own size isn’t fun, besides... I never pick in anyone. You’re just easy.” Ryleigh teases, closing a bit more of the distance, dishes clearly forgotten for the moment.
BEAR
Bear’s smirk widens as she calls him by his last name and struggles against his grip—he’s definitely not letting up though he’s ready to let go at any moment if it was hurting her. “Oh, so I’m a special target then?” He asked, cocking a brow at her as she moved closer. “Sort of rude, inviting someone over only to pick on them,” he adds, meeting her gaze, impressed by her confidence and the fact that she hadn’t backed down.
RYLEIGH
When his smirk widens, Ryleigh swears everything around her fades as she zeros in on that smirk. Nothing else matters except this moment because he’s teasing her, and she doesn’t feel threatened. Anyone else his size, with his strength, would’ve made her cower and flinch away. Or maybe she’d just found a lot more backbone since she left New York. “You could say that, and I’m not really picking on you. You could easily turn the tables on me,” she points out, motioning to where he still has a firm grip on the nozzle and her hand, water dripping down her arm and over his hand. “Or leave if you’re feeling really put out,” Ryleigh adds, but there’s a small, knowing smile on her face as she slips closer, pressing her tiny frame against his own.
BEAR
Bear’s not sure what he expected when he offered to do the dishes, but it for damn sure wasn’t this. He didn’t think the front of his shirt would be damp and he didn’t think that he’d be registering it was damp because he could feel Ryleigh’s body pressing to his and his shirt pressing to his skin in turn. He looks down at her, wondering what the hell was going on...well, the back of his head was wondering that. Most of his mind was on the fact that he wants to know what it would be like to be pressed to her like this without any fabric between them, her skin on his. “I don’t scare easy,” he said, prying the nozzle from her hand with both of his now, eyes still on hers.
RYLEIGH
Honestly, she can’t even say what had possessed her to even start this in the first place. Maybe to see how he’d react to a little spontaneity, maybe to see how he’d react to her taking a little leap of faith regarding the tension between them. She has to tip her head back to look up at him, golden tresses spilling down her back when she does, her gaze heavy on his own. “You don’t seem the type that would,” Ryleigh agrees, and instead of letting her hand drop away, she moves it forward to brush her fingers against the damp material of his shirt.
BEAR
“Seems like you might not be the type either,” Bear says, not sure if he’s even making sense anymore because now she’s touching him, a spot at his abdomen, and his body is tensing under her touch but he’s also leaning into it. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches back and lets go of the nozzle so it retracts back in place, one hand on the counter, the other hovering at his side as he wonders if he should touch her or not.
RYLEIGH
Oh. She’s definitely the type who scares easy, but she’s not scared of him. Ryleigh is surprised he releases the nozzle to put it back, and she instinctively reaches out to shut the water off, but never once takes her gaze from his. His body is tense under her small hand, which lifts away from his abdomen to find the ink on his arm instead. Delicate pads trace what she can see, her body angling toward his enough so her front is against his front. “You don’t scare me.” A gentle shrug, lower lip slipping between her teeth again as her other hand rises to the spot the one on his arm had left previously.
BEAR
Bear watches her and feels her hand on his arm and he’s wondering how, about an hour ago, he was thinking about how the girl was smiley and cute and now she’s touching his arm and now he’s totally lost track of himself. He tries to push the thoughts out of his head, focusing on the fact that he was there for dinner, they don’t really know each other, how the fuck old was she...but then he watched her teeth go against her lip and all thoughts of anything else, all resolve, are absolutely gone. “No?” He asks, raising a brow at her as he moves a hand to hook a finger through her belt loop, holding her to him.
RYLEIGH
Definitely no, Ryleigh thinks, because she’s not scared right now. Especially when he hooks his finger into her belt loop, holding her body against his. She’s very aware of every breath she takes, because each one has her chest moving slightly against his abdomen, which only makes her wish she’d decided on a bra this evening. “No.” She answers plainly, for the first time not thinking about anything other than the fire under her skin. She’s not worried about her scars or how damaged she is, because fuck, she’s so damaged. “Do I scare you?” Ryleigh hears herself ask as she shifts against him, her neck aching from having to look up at him for so long, but it’s worth it.
BEAR
Bear isn’t sure if she scares him or not, he doesn’t even know where to start to answer that question. Because he can feel her chest against him and her body is soft and he’s really thinking now about what it would be like for all of this fucking fabric to be gone. Because he can feel her breathing and she’s looking up at him and he doesn’t know what to do with any of this. He drops his hand, glad he’s able to convince himself that he needs to get the fuck out of there, taking a step backwards to give her some excuse but then his eyes are tripping over her body and he hasn’t even realized he’d said “Fuck it, c’mere,” aloud before he’s hooked a finger back through her belt loop and closed the distance, mouth going hard to hers before he can really even register what he’s doing.
RYLEIGH
There’s something there between them. Some tension buzzing in the air around him and she’s almost certain he’s going to do something, but then he drops his hand and disappointment is sharp and potent. As quickly as it starts to spread and she’s trying to get a handle on her sanity, he’s back, hooking his finger in her belt loop, tugging her sharply and then his mouth is hot and hard against her own. A little whimper crawls into her throat as she rises onto her tip toes in an attempt to get closer to him, to the warmth of his mouth. One of her small hands rises to curl around the back of his thick neck and she’s never felt more tiny than she does now, returning the kiss with fervor and pressing the length of her entire, supple frame flush against him - muscle and strength.
BEAR
Bear hadn’t even let himself think about what he would do if he’s somehow read all of this wrong and she wasn’t into it so when she kisses him back, when she’s putting her hands on him and he’s backing her up against the counter, hunching a little at the shoulders so he can keep his mouth level to hers, tongue pushing into her mouth to stroke over hers as his hands spread open to either side of her waist. He absently realizes how tiny her waist is as he pushes the tips of his fingers under the fabric at her back and sides, grunting a little because her skin is smooth and it feels good under the calluses on his hands.
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh wants to touch him everywhere. His mouth is demanding against her own, his hulking frame backing her against the counter and the same flare of heat she’d felt when that same tongue if his flicked against the tip of her finger earlier becomes a raging inferno, there’s no denying she wants him. He tastes of beer and herbs and spices and she’s ravenous, her tongue playing with his own because she wants to drown in the taste of him. She’s so enthralled by his mouth, she misses his hands on her waist, on his calloused fingers grazing her soft skin. This would be the moment she tenses, the moment she drags wandering hands from exploring further, to find the blemished skin beneath the waist of her jeans at her lower back, and further. Ryleigh doesn’t tense, but rather pushes herself even closer until she’s sure he can feel how hard her nipples are against his abdomen.
BEAR
Bear grunts again against her mouth as he feels her against him, feels her nipples against him and the idea of getting her naked is suddenly the absolute only thing on his mind, getting him hard as he slips a hand higher up under her shirt, fingers kneading into the skin at the small of her back. He finds himself almost annoyed at stooping over her so, without breaking the kiss, he moves his hands to her waist again and lifts her onto the counter, pleased that they’re almost level now, one of his hands going to a knee so he can push her legs apart and step between them so they’re close again.
RYLEIGH
Fuck. Ryleigh gasps against his mouth when he lifts her onto the counter without breaking the kiss between them. Her thighs part willingly, allowing him access between them, both of her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders to pull him closer still, as if he can’t get close enough at all. In a moment of need, she nips at his lower lip, curls one of her legs around his waist and arches her his toward his in a way that definitely makes her feel how much he’s enjoying this. Ryleigh whimpers into his mouth, one of her hands shifting into his hair because she wants to explore every inch of him.
BEAR
When she arches against him, Bear’s body takes control and he rolls his hips against hers a little, friction doing wonders on his end on the one hand...on the other, it just makes him realize how badly he wants to be fucking her, how irritating it was to have clothes on when she was making sounds like the one that just came out of her mouth. He smoothes a hand along her body from her back to her abdomen, fingers spreading open against her navel over the fabric covering her before he inched it higher, thumb brushing over her nipple through her shirt, teasing her through the fabric as he kissed her deeply.
RYLEIGH
That friction against her, of him rolling his hips and pressing the tightness of her jeans against her heat, makes her moan and claw at his shoulder, as it’ll convince him to never stop. His entire hand is warm against her, touching her, crawling up her torso until—- “Bear, please,” she moans with a gasp, breaking the kiss because her lungs burn and his thumb is teasing at her nipple, so hard and sensitive to touch. Her once glossed lips are now pink and swollen, her skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink which definitely disappears beneath the high neck collar of her poor excuse for a shirt. Ryleigh dips her head, rolling her hips into his to grind herself against him, brushing her mouth along the scruff of his jaw.
BEAR
He’s normally more measured than this, normally in the mood to tease and take his good ole time, to hold off at first to build the tension. But the tension is already there, has been building since he walked in the door if he’s being honest with himself, and there’s not a single part of him that wants to pretend that delaying being inside of her would make it better. When she says his name, all he can think about is getting her to say it again. He drops a hand to the button of her jeans, flicking it open and undoing the zipper, hand going down the front of the flap to touch her over her underwear, fingers teasing over the fabric for a moment before they’re pressing firmer, rubbing against the layer between his skin and hers in time with the roll of her hips.
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh’s fingers tighten their grip on his hair the moment his hand sinks into her jeans. She shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly he’d managed to do just that, thick fingers pressing firm over her panties and she’s no doubt he can feel how wet she is through them. She’s been that way since he first put his mouth on her finger. “Fuck,” she whimpers, her head falling back against the cabinet behind her. Sex is never about her. Her pleasure has never really mattered and she’s always... it’s been so ingrained into her at this point, she almost feels bad she’s not giving him anything in return. Her free hand reaches between the press her palm flush against his own arousal, desperate to make him feel half as good as she feels right now.
BEAR
Bear groans a little when he feels how wet she is. He doesn’t take more than a moment to reach his hand back up and slide it down the front of her underwear, swearing under his breath at how the wetness felt against her skin instead of the fabric that had been in the way before. While he knows what he’s doing, there’s nothing particularly measured or calculated about the way that his fingers work because all he wants to do is touch her, to get her to keep make the sounds she’s been making. He moves his fingers down along her folds, then teases against her clit at the same time she touches him through his jeans and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, free hand working into the hair at the base of her neck to twine it through his fingers relatively tightly.
RYLEIGH
If there was a way to keep him touching her like this forever, she would find it. His fingers are thick and rough as they slide over her bare skin, the contrast of them against her clit sending sparks through her entire body as she trembles beneath his touch. Combined with his fingers slipping tightly into her hair at the base of her neck, and the low sound in his throat, Ryleigh’s dizzy with pleasure. Desperate to touch him, too, she’s much more clumsy in unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, but soon she’s pushing beneath layers of fabric until her tiny hand curls around his cock - skin hot and hard against her palm. She’s throbbing under his touch, aching in a way she can’t ever remember feeling before, wanting him to shift his fingers further, to push them inside of her, to fuck her. Her hand squeezes around him gently, working along the length of him and his clothes in the way only forces another whimper from her. “Bear,” she gasps, his name a plea, but she’s not sure for what, exactly.
BEAR
God, he likes the way she says his name, her breathing scant and her voice filling the kitchen. When she touches him, he feels like he’s firing on all cylinders—the smooth skin of her hand curling around him makes him press his hips harder to the touch. He knows he’s hung, definitely more so than a lot of guys, and he has a fleeting thought about wanting to see her hand—small as it was—wrapped around his cock. But more than that, he wants it inside of her, basically any part of hm inside of her at this point. He moves his mouth to her neck, sucking hard enough that he knows he’ll leave a mark just below her ear, at the same time that he slides a finger inside of her, instantly aware of how tight she feels around him as his broad finger fills her up. He works over her for a moment, still kissing at her neck, before he adds a second.
RYLEIGH
Her jeans aren’t offering a lot of room for him to move around, but there’s almost something entirely too sexy about how he doesn’t let that deter him. His mouth falls against her neck, teeth and lips sucking hard enough at the sensitive skin, she can’t quiet her louder moan this time. Crying out for him as her pussy clenches tight around that single, thick finger inside of her. Ryleigh is writhing against his hand, trembling under him, as he slowly adds another finger, stretching her around him, her while her hand stutters along his cock, trying to keep up, but failing miserably. Instead, there’s a heady moment when she swirls her thumb around the head of him, gathering what’s already leaking from him onto her thumb before dragging her hand away from him entirely and popping her thumb past her lips, just to taste him.
BEAR
Bear had thought that he had a decent amount of self control before, but when he feels her thumb slide against the head of his cock, when he watches it go into her mouth, self control be damned. In spite of how badly he doesn’t want to, Bear pulls his fingers out of her and moves to strip her jeans off of her, mind entirely alight with the idea of being inside of her, at what it would feel like to have her grinding against his cock instead of his hand. “You need to take these the fuck off,” he says, voice hoarse and husky as he meets her eye and tugs on the denim at her waist, hands already gravitating back toward her as he slips one past the hem of her shirt, fingers pressing firmly and insistently against her abdomen, tracing the underside of her breast, taking this opportunity to tease her only as it distracts him from the time it’s taking to get her jeans off of her.
RYLEIGH
Her hips chase after his fingers when she removes them from her, a pout finding her mouth as soon as they’re gone. She meets his gaze, her own hooded and glazed with want. If the look in his eyes hadn’t been enough for convince her, the growl in his throat is, a new wave of need soaking her panties. They’re ruined now. They’ve got to be with out insatiably turned on she feels. Ryleigh scrambles to push her jeans from her hips, his fingers teasing at her bare skin so fucking distracting. There’s a bed not thirty feet away, but she can’t be bothered to suggest they move when he’s touching her like this. Soon enough she’s got her jeans almost completely off, struggling with one ankle before fabric thuds heavily to the floor, leaning Ryleigh in a pair of navy blue lace panties soaked through the center and a her top which barely covers anything at all anymore. Ryleigh peels her shirt over her head for good measure... baring her full breasts, peaked with pretty pink nipples aching to be touched. She’s flushed and panting and paying no mind to the fact that she’s just gotten nearly naked with him when that never happens with anyone... not so soon and definitely not without a “no questions” promise.
BEAR
As she pulls her clothing off, Bear moves to kiss her heatedly, mouth hard and insistent against hers as he he reaches back behind him to tug his shirt off over his head because now that he’s seen her breasts, the color of her skin pink and pale at the same time, he wants to feel it against his. He’s built—he’s basically had to be given how much manual labor he’s done in his life, chest broad and hard, tattoos covering the majority of it and arching up to his arms down along the cords of muscle on his back. Once his shirt is pooled on the floor, he leans down and brings his mouth to her clavicle, tongue following the line where the bone protrudes slightly from her skin down to the center of her chest, lips hot as he moves his hands back to her and slides one down along her back underneath her underwear to grab at her ass firmly, squeezing the skin there as he draws her to him.
RYLEIGH
She wants to explore all of him. Every inch of hard, toned skin that’s revealed, drag her tongue along the lines of the ink on his flesh. Such a stark contrast in comparison to her own; a small shooting star on her hip, her Gemini tattoo on her shoulder blade. Her small hands find purchase on his skin, unsure where to start, merely knowing she needs to touch him, as his mouth falls against her skin. Ryleigh, in the throes of what he invokes in her, doesn’t even stiffen as she usually would when his fingers ghost over her lower back to curve against the plush skin of her ass. Both legs are around his waist, her hands falling to help push at the fabric of his jeans, needing them gone. Needing him inside of her.
BEAR
Bear shifts his hips to get his jeans off of him, the denim falling to the floor with a heavy sound thanks to the weight of his keys and wallet. He's wearing boxer briefs, the fabric stretched over the hard curve of his ass, waistband slung low at the v of his waist. They were tight under normal circumstances, even more so now that she has him hard and straining against the elastic fabric. He pulls away from her long enough to pull her panties from her, breathing hitching a little as his fingers register the wetness before he adds them to the pile of clothes on the floor, and then he's kissing her hand, palm of his hand coming to one of her breasts as he teases his fingers across her nipple, admiring the peak and the weight of her in his hand as he pulls her to him by her ass again.
RYLEIGH
They’ll probably laugh at the absurdity of their inability to even make it out of the damn kitchen before they’re naked, but the hunger in his eyes, the way he touches her, Ryleigh is not keen on changing anything about this moment. Her eyes drink him in, his boxer briefs giving everything and nothing away and as her little fingers hook under the waistband and she pushes at the fabric, she has a brief, solid moment of ‘Jesus fuck, he’s not going to fit.’ He’s.... impressive and she’s tiny, but she’s so wet she can feel the slickness between her thighs without even pressing them together. Her heart stutters when he kisses her hand, his fingers dragging over one of her nipples, drawing a deeper, needier whimper from her. She dips her head, lips caressing over one muscled pec then the other as she rolls her hips forward in the same moment he grabs her ass and she call feel the hot, heavy length of his cock teasing the swollen lips of her cunt. It’s euphoric, her body shuddering against his and Jesus Christ she might die here.
BEAR
If he's not inside her soon, he thinks he might literally lose his mind. He normally would ask, normally would know from the time he walked in the door of an apartment or climbed into the backseat of a car that sex was on the table, but right now he feels so turned on, so frustrated that he takes his cock in his hand and lines it up with her opening, teasing the head over her clit and along her folds for a couple of seconds--much shorter than he normally would, but he doesn't have restraint in him now--before he pushes inside her and groans louder than he has since he first put his hands on her. She's impossibly tight, the sensation of being fully surrounded by hot, wet velvet the only thing he can focus on for a moment even as his eyes come up to hers.
RYLEIGH
She wants more of that sound, from more of him, and she knows she can’t possibly get any closer than she already is. He pushes into her and she can feel every solid inch, her slick walls drawing tighter around him because he’s... and she’s.... Ryleigh’s small hands lift to clutch at his broad shoulders, clinging to him as he meets her gaze and she swears she could come undone from that look alone. She shifts a little once she feels comfortable enough, even though there’s that slight pressure from how big he is in comparison to her small body. “Please, Bear... I want to feel you,” she whimpers, leaning into him to kiss his neck, his shoulders, nipping at his Adam’s apple, all while still clinging to him and practically dripping onto his cock since she’s only growing that much more desperate for him.
BEAR
Hearing her say his name, the way the words sounded mixed with the plea makes him want to tease her so she'll do it more, makes him want her to beg him...but he can't because he wants it just as much. So he rolls his body to hers, pulling out almost entirely before pushing himself back in deeper than before, somehow even harder than he'd been when he'd first entered her. One of his hands goes back up into her hair, tangling his fingers in the strands firmly as holds her in place to the counter, mouth hot as he sucks hard at a spot where her neck and shoulder meet, breaths coming ragged through his nose.
RYLEIGH
Her eyes flutter as the pleasure rockets through her, the sensation of his skin against hers, of his length moving inside of her nearly enough to make her see stars. Is that even possible? Slender fingers curl into his shoulders, blunt nails biting into thick muscle and there’s a chance he doesn’t even feel it, but she clings heavily to him as nonsensical little moans and whimpers begin pouring out of her. One hand dives into her hair again, holding on so firmly her pussy pulses around him because she likes it, likes that he’s not letting her writhe like she wants to. He’s holding her there, fucking into her so slowly she thinks she might go insane from desire, from a hunger so profound she can’t stop trembling against him. She arches her back when his mouth falls back to her skin, her nails dragging down his bicep in response before her small hand clings to him there, moaning his name, pleading for more.
BEAR
Bear likes that Ryleigh is vocal, likes that her hands are soft and her skin is soft and God, literally every part of her his hand finds makes him want to find another place, wants to test if every inch of her feels as good as the last. He likes that he can feel her tight around the diameter of his cock, squeezing him hard as he fucks her, no matter if he's pushing into her shallowly or angling his hips up so the tip strokes over her g spot. His teeth leave a pattern of shallow marks in their wake, he's nipping at her but not hard enough to bruise, just enough so she can feel it and he can muffle the groans that are falling past his lips faster than he can try to stop them.
RYLEIGH
This is torture. Every moment wrapped around him is torture in the purest, most pleasurable form, and it's glorious. She's intoxicated - is this why people crave it so much? - by the feel of him, by how he can keep her on the edge with his shallow thrusts and then make her moan loudly enough she's sure the neighbors can hear her every time the tip of his cock nudges against that sensitive spot inside of her. Goosebumps kiss her skin under his lips, her fingers traipsing over his skin, gripping and curving, exploring as he fucks her on the kitchen counter. They're making a mess of the surface, too, because she can feel how slick she is, how there must be a fucking spot on the counter now because of it, but none of that matters as she bucks tries to buck toward him, his hard grip keeping her from doing so. "Do you want me to come, Bear?" She whimpers breathlessly, her sweet voice curling around the words with ease. She'll be embarrassed about them later, but right now? She's in the moment and he feels so good inside of her. "Do you want me to come on your cock?" Then her lower lip is between her teeth again, attempting to stifle another moan as he nudges against her g-spot once more, her thighs trembling as she teeters on the edge, so fucking close.
BEAR
Bear’s pretty sure he’s never wanted to make someone come more in his life. He’s pretty sure that this is the first time in a long time he’s fucked someone sober, actually truly paid attention to what his body was doing aside from the most basic actions. He pulls back to look at her, hand moving from her hair to her jaw, thumb against her chin and fingers along the angle leading to her neck—his touch isn’t firm though, there’s only enough pressure to tilt her head so she has basically no choice but to meet his eye. “I want you...” he began, slowing his strokes but easing up on how he was holding her so she could move against him freely, hand on her ass still guiding her in place, “to come all over my cock,” he says, the words punctuating another stroke.
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh's breath stutters when his hand shifts, his thumb a heavy presence on her chin, his fingers long enough to spread down the angle of her neck. All he has to do is shift his hand a little lower, wrap his fingers around her neck and-- she flutters around him again, hoping he can feel exactly what his touch is doing to her and she dips her head instead, soft, still kiss swollen, pink lips wrapping around his thumb as she stares right into those dark eyes. His strokes slow, and he punctates his statement with another broad, slow stroke, making her eyes roll back for half a second. Ryleigh whines, canting her hips when she's given the freedom, fucking herself on his cock with a much faster pace than he'd been using while still trying to savor how he feels inside of her. One of her hands falls away from his body to sink between her quivering thighs, skin slick with her arousal, fingers finding her aching little clit with ease to circle the sensitive bundle. "Please? Please can I?" Ryleigh pleads with a breathy moan in her sugary sweet cadence, eyelids fluttering, gaze heavy on his. He's already said he wants it. She wants him to give her the permission to do it.
BEAR
When Bear feels her lips wrap around his thumb, all he can do his grunt a long sigh, the word that comes out his mouth guttural and almost hoarse. “Fuckkk,” he groans, the word a long and drawn out exhale as he lets his eyes fall over her body. He lets her move against him, feeling his cock swell at the combination of the sounds she was making, the rhythm of her body against his, how her tight body looked where they were connected. He watches her work her hand over her clit for a moment before he moved it out of the way moving his fingers to the spot instead so he can circle the spot instead, fingers moving over her smoothly from her wetness in spite of how rough they were, wanting to be the sole reason she got off. Bear nods at her, leaning down to kiss her briefly before catching her lower lip between his teeth and pulling back. “Come,” he said in a tone that would’ve sound like a command but was in fact a plea because she feels so good around him and he wants to watch her fall apart.
RYLEIGH
His reaction to her, as if he actually enjoys seeing her like this - desperate to come on his cock like it's the only thing in the world she needs to be doing - gives her a feeling of euphoria and one she rides as she continues to circle her fingers around her clit. Before she can comprehend anything else, he's pushing her own hand away and replacing the pressure with his heavy thumb, causing her to jerk against him, her walls fluttering as if doing so will convince him to find his own release. He kisses her briefly and Ryleigh's head spins deliciously, another moaning whimper caught in her throat as he bites her lower lip and the commands... pleads? ... for her to come. She shudders heavily, her hands gripping his arms as she follows through a minute later, shattering around his cock, her walls pulsing rhythmically with the aftermath of her pleasure, his name a sharp cry of pleasure rolling off her tongue as her head drops back against the cabinet once more and she succumbs to the tremors claiming her overwrought frame.
BEAR
Bear strokes her through her orgasm, thumb and cock keeping an even, fluid pace against her as he strokes in and out of her. As he feels her tighten somehow even more, he feels a familiar tug at the base of his gut, warmth beginning to pool there as he hitches his hips harder to hers, moving deeper now as he slides in deep, looking down between their bodies as he watches her slide all the way to the base of his cock and then back out again, then again, then again. His muscles are taut from his legs up through his chest, the hand on her face moving to tangle in her hair again as the other grips hard at her ass, fingertips pressing roughly into the supple skin there as he continues to work her over. He groans a little at the feeling of her skin under his hands and it’s not long before his husky voice fills the kitchen. “Fuck, I’m gonna come...”
RYLEIGH
Shuddering through the aftermath of her orgasm, so sensitive as he continues to fuck into her, she's torn between wanting to close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of him or watch him as he continues to enjoy the feeling of her. Watching him watching her, watching them as he sinks into her all the way to the base, only to pull out again, pushes her toward the verge of another orgasm so soon after her first one. She's almost too sensitive, at this point, but he feels incredible and when he simultaneously tangles his fingers in her hair and grips her ass again, an aftershock of need leaves her whimpering for him. "Do it," she encourages, voice breathy and almost needy as her arm wraps around his neck and she pulls him even closer, soft against hard. "Come inside me, Bear... please? Let me feel how good I make you feel," she whispers, brushing her mouth against his jaw, savoring the scratch of his beard against her skin, before she kisses him. As deep and hard as their initial kiss, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip.
BEAR
Knuckles white around where Bear has her hair in a fist, he’s holding onto her firmly but not pulling aside from a little tug at the root, fingers moving over her scalp as he kisses her back, moving against her hard a couple more times before he tips his forward against hers, breaking the kiss. He moves a hand to her breast, palming it and taking the weight of it in his hand as he reaches the edge of his resolve and topples over it, breathing scant as he makes a sound like he’s been hit in the gut, a sharp inhale before he’s mumbling, “Oh fuck, goddamnit, Ryleigh,” and he’s pushed deep inside of her, words, totally gone, feeling her contracting around him still from her orgasm as he comes hard with a groan that reverberates off of the counters and floor, subconsciously realizing that her neighbors might have heard that one.
RYLEIGH
He's overpowering and she's succumbs to every second he spends inside of her. To his hand on her breast, his fingers tugging sharply on her hair encouraging the goosebumps to kiss her skin even more. Ryleigh trembles heavily and swears she feels another, much smaller, orgasm claim her as he comes inside of her. He pushes deep, stills and her arms wrap tight around his shoulders as he groans loudly, the sound echoing in her ears and filling the space of the apartment. Her own breathing is heavy, a fine sheen of sweat coating her skin and she can't stop herself from peppering kisses against his jaw, the side of his face as one of her hands slips up into his hair. Through the haze of lust, this primal need she'd had, she wonders what he'll think of her now. Whether he'll still--- she hadn't meant for this to happen, but there's something about him, something she hadn't been able to ignore. Challenging him probably hadn't been the smartest idea, but god, she doesn't regret it. Regret this. She trembles against him, a chill settling over her body as the cool air of the apartment is finally noticed around them.
BEAR
It’s like coming up for air after being deep underwater when Bear finally comes back to himself. He’s been leaning against her, letting her body and the counter prop him up as his knees had almost buckled when he came. His mind had gone totally bland, as it often did, brain offline to everything except how fucking good everything feels. He stands there like that for a few moments, aware of the sound of his breathing, of her breathing, the spots where their bodies touch that are damp from exertion...and then he realizes he should probably pull back a little so he does, hand in her hair moving over his back as he pulls back a little. Bear flashes her a smile, the expression much less guarded than before, reservation from before almost totally dissipated because he’s loose now and the good afterglow hormones flowing through him have him almost relaxed, more mellow than he’s been in a week. He lets out a short laugh as he meets her eye, shaking his head a little. “Is this part of the Dayton welcome too?” He asked, voice still husky.
RYLEIGH
He pulls back a little and her arms grow slack around him, her hands shifting to drift down over his skin, fingertips tracing the ink on his flesh as her eyes zero in on the ink. Able to really appreciate it now because she's not in some haze induced need for him to fuck her senseless. When her eyes shift back to his face, he's relaxed, that furrow in his brown smooth, and she smiles warmly. She'd done that. Or helped, at the very least, and it makes her proud she's able to have some kind of affect on him. His question pulls a laugh from her, the huskiness in his voice making her stomach clench and her body tight where she's still wrapped around him, because he might've pulled back, but he hasn't slipped out of her, yet. "Not even close. I'm not going to lie and say I haven't had my fair share of experiences in Dayton, but this isn't... you're different." Ryleigh answers with a small shrug, a pink hue staining her cheeks, but this time, from mild embarrassment with herself and not from the pleasure he'd stoked within her.
BEAR
When he feels her clench around him again, he swears quietly under his breath and shifts to slip from her, loosing a short laugh because he’s so sensitive he can barely stand it. He meets her eye again, a line forming along the center of his forehead as his brows pull together slightly. He’s not sure what he thinks of that. He looks her over again, smoothing one of his hands over her thigh, smacking the outside of it lightly before he turns his back to her and picks up his boxer briefs, tugging them back on wordlessly before picking up his phone from the counter and checking the time just for something to do that’s not talking. “Getting late,” He mumbles, not turning back around as he reaches for his jeans.
RYLEIGH
There's that crease again, appearing as quickly as it'd slipped away. She wants to reach for it, to smooth it away, but as quickly as the thought appears to her, he's slipping away, sliding out of her, leaving her empty. Ryleigh has to shut her thighs even as his hand slaps lightly against her skin in order to not be completely obscene because she's sure the combination of her slick and his cum leaking onto the counter would do very little for her sanity right now. Ryleigh watches him turn from her, reach for his boxer briefs and slide them on. Was it late? She'd lost track of time and she doesn't really care how late it is. He reaches for his jeans and sure, Ryleigh could do what she always does. Let him leave, clean up their mess, take a shower and hope the water washes away her tears as she's weighed down by every moment in her life which forces every insecurity to the forefront of her mind. Reminding her why she isn't important, why she's never going to be important. She's not the girl people stick around for; that's just her luck and somewhere along the way, she's learned to accept it. This, though? Watching him reach for his jeans is a kick to her gut she doesn't expect. She feels vulnerable and naked, a dull ache in her lower back, her thighs itching. Ryleigh slips from the counter and makes a split second decision to grab his shirt instead of her own. Easing it over her head, the fabric swallows her small frame, but shields her body down to her thighs, hiding away how damaged she actually is. "You offered me a ride after dinner... does that still stand or is this the part where you pretend this didn't happen with some bullshit excuse like you being too old for me?" Her arms wrap around her body as she leans back against the counter, eyes on his back.(edited)
BEAR
Bear’s surprised by her reaction. Genuinely, truly surprised. He was used to ‘cool girls,’ girls who would go with the flow and nod along, disinterested and detached and happy to let him fuck them and go. That’s what it had been like on the road, that’s what it had been like in Homer, and aside from a 3 month relationship he had his senior year of high school, it’s what it had been like the entirety of his life. He wasn’t used to being held accountable, for anything other than saying the cursory ‘I’ll text you’ to a girl who knew he definitely would not be texting her but she didn’t care. He would get them off, they would get him off, it was an even exchange. Case closed, no hard feelings. And now this. He turned to look at Ryleigh over his shoulder, surprised to see her in his shirt, eyes on the spot where the hem brushed her thighs, noting the color difference between the dark shirt and the color of her skin, like cream or milk or something equally stupid and pseudo poetic. She’s challenging him. Bear doesn’t know what to do with that. He debates making a joke about having already been for a ride but it seemed mean and he knew he didn’t truly mean it. He’s quiet for a beat, maybe a moment too long, just looking at her over his shoulder before he moves his hands to his fly, turning around and buttoning it as he speaks. “Pants and shoes with some kind of hard toe,” he says, jerking his head toward where he guesses her room is.
RYLEIGH
Ryleigh half expects him to say something mean, but she also doesn't believe he will. Not to her, at least, because that's not the vibe she's gotten from him this entire time. Not from their first meeting, or their second, and yeah, maybe it was unprecedented to fuck him so soon, but she's also been the kind of person who's blown a guy in a public bathroom because she could. Because she was good at it. So when he nods toward her bedroom and finally speaks, it takes her a minute to realize what he's saying. Her entire face lights up, though she tries to squash it as she nods, stoops to grab her clothes from the floor and shuffles through the apartment to he bedroom where her suitcase rests. There's a moment she debates cleaning herself up down there, especially because she's a little sore from being stretched so around him. Ryleigh shivers at the thought, removes his shirt to pull on a pair of clean panties, black jeans, a nude bra and a white t-shirt. A black denim jacket is eased on before she's slides her socked feet into a pair of pink combat boots she'd bought in a whim when she first moved to Dayton. She thinks the toe is hard enough at least. His shirt slung over her arm, she's finishing up the braid she'd started on her hair when she finally joins him. "Here," she offers, holding the shirt out to him, which she hopes smells like her when he slips it over his head.
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A Walk in the Park
Chapter 9
Description: When your husband dies in an accident, you try to move on with your life. When the memories of your shared home become too much even after two years, you make a drastic change and move to California. A new career, a new way of life, and an attractive new friend help you move on to find the happiness you need. *This will be a slow burn*
Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Tim OFC x Reader (Tom Welling face claim)
Warnings for this chapter: Fluff, curse words, and Angst! I’m sorry.
Unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my own. This is purely for fun. Comments and reblogs give me life. Tags are open. Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged.
Read Chapter 8 here
Saturday ended up being a 16-hour day. The wedding went off almost without a hitch. Just a few drunk groomsmen and an upset mother of the groom due to the drunk groomsmen. It wasn’t an uncommon thing. You always were sure to have a pot of coffee brewing, a few packets of calming tea, and mints on hand for moments like these. Luckily for your team, the bride never caught wind of the drama on the other side of the church.
In between the wedding and reception, Victoria learned all about the drama with Chris that had occurred the last couple of weeks, including your emotional blow up last night. Victoria is a wonderful listener, but not one to offer much advice. She simply told you to let him go. “You have a great new thing with Tim. You should really see where that’s going and fuck Chris.” You raised your brows at her and she promptly slapped your shoulder. “You know I don’t mean like that! But…maybe with Tim?” You then promptly slapped her.
The long day allowed you time to bond with Juliet. You had worked with her a few times, but never more than an hour or two. She spent a lot of the day trying to convince you Colleen wasn’t that bad. But for every positive point she made about Colleen, she also would add in a negative one that left you both in hysterics.
Sunday you slept in. You had tentative plans with Tim, but you were exhausted and your feet hurt. It was heels for most of the day and you were kicking yourself for not switching to flats during the reception like Victoria had. After an early morning potty break where you practically crawled to the bathroom, you sent Tim a text asking if you could meet later because you really needed sleep. He was understanding and asked you to text him when you were more awake.
Tim: Sleep well babe.
Y/N:
Thanks for understanding <3
It was after two in the afternoon by the time you were showered and dressed. You were also starving. You scarfed down a full can of Pringles in less than 10 minutes. You weren’t proud, but you were satisfied.
Tim had suggested a trip to the Santa Monica Pier and you happily agreed. It’s a place you had heard about but never visited before. You suggested meeting him there since it would be out of the way for him to pick you up. Tim had asked that you meet him at a building called the Hippodrome. It was easy to spot because it was rather tall with large arched windows and a dome of some sort on top. When you arrived Tim was already there, leaning against the building like a Greek God if you were being honest. He had on navy shorts, white V neck t-shirt, and sneakers.
“Hey beautiful,” he said while walking up to you pulling you into a big bear hug. “Are you feeling better?”
“Hey yourself.” Kissing his cheek softly before pulling away. “Yeah, I was just out of it from yesterday. It was a really long day and I just needed to recover.” He intertwined your hand with his left. “So, what first?”
“Well, in this building, is a carousel that’s over 100 years old. I thought we should go for a spin,” he says, eyes and smile both bright. “Technically it’s a merry-go-round since there are other animals besides horses that you can ride.”
“Look at you with the knowledge!” You squeeze his hand and walk to the entrance.
Tim paid for the tickets and you both entered the line to wait for your turn. After a short wait you both picked your horses and had a pretend race. Even though your horses were side by side, yours was slightly more forward, but Tim joked the whole time that he was gaining on you.
After your very tiring race, you both decided you needed food. Tim grabbed a couple of hot dogs and a large portion of fries while you picked up a funnel cake with strawberries and extra whipped cream. You both met up at a picnic table for your mini feast.
“I think your eyes are bigger than your stomach. There’s no way you’re eating this,” he gestures to your hot dog and a pile of fries, “plus some of that,” pointing to the very large funnel cake.
“I think there’s a lot about me you have yet to find out.” You said while grabbing a fry and stuffing it in your mouth.
“Oh, I bet.” Tim said grabbing a handful of fries and shoving them in his mouth.
Since the sun was still warm in the sky, you both walked down to the beach, removed your shoes and walked along the shore. The water was still freezing but the late afternoon sun helped. You picked a few shells off the beach and after gently cleaning them off in the ocean water, Tim stored them in his pockets.
“I’m glad today worked out. I feel bad that I’m only really free on Sundays.” He said.
“It’s alright. We’re still just getting to know each other. I’m sure you could squeeze me in more if we continue to, I don’t know, get to know each other.” You said with a laugh. Why am I so awkward?
Tim stopped walking suddenly, almost making you trip on your own feet. He turned to you, taking both of your hands in his and stood there with intense eyes. Looking like a prince from some sort of fairytale. You on the other hand stood there, mouth agape, with your hair in your face. If he weren’t holding both of your hands you would be taming your mane. “I want to continue to get to know you Y/N. From what I know so far, I really like.”
He started to lean down to kiss you, but the he noticed your mess of hair. He released your hands and gently tucked your hair behind your ears and kissed you. Man is he smooth.
The kiss started slow and tender, but once you slipped your arms around his waist, you both let go. You parted your lips inviting him in and he eagerly accepted. Tongues clashing for dominance. Hands pulling each other as close as possible. Tim slid his hand down to your ass and squeezed. You heard a couple of cat calls and whistles causing your both to break apart laughing. Your cheeks were warm with embarrassment, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Tim. Smiling at each other like a couple of teenagers.
After a little shopping on the pier, picking up a few candles and bath bombs, Tim walked you to your car. You stood against the driver’s side door with Tim leaning against you, both of his hands gripping your arms. He licks his lips and smiles. “Any way I can convince you to come back to my place tonight?” He asks.
You heart flutters and your pulse quickens. You really want to, boy do you want to, but you aren’t there yet. You know going back to his place means more than just watching a movie or a glass a wine. Going back to his place is that next step. A more intimate step. One that you weren’t quite ready to make. You quickly tried to come up with an excuse but in the end decided the truth was the best option.
“I really, really want to.” Biting your lip, you continued. “I’m just not ready yet. Please don’t take this as a cop out, but I haven’t been in a relationship for a while, so I’m just not there.”
“Oh. No, I totally get that. Yeah. That’s, that’s fine.”
Well, now you felt like shit.
“I just really want to spend more time with you before we get that point.”
He nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you. It was soft and warm, not rushed like earlier. He pulled away and kissed your forehead, holding the kiss there for a while. “Then, well wait.” He smiled and you pulled him back down for another kiss before saying goodnight and driving home.
Monday morning brought good news. Colleen had called both Juliet and yourself into her office. She was very impressed with how you both handled the wedding on Saturday and with how well you both had worked together. As a reward, her word, not yours, you and Juliet would be solely in charge of a dinner party being held on Friday. A good portion of the business your company worked on were dinner parties or parties in general. Usually they were wealthy clients who didn’t want to work with a catering company directly, so instead hired an event coordinator to manage that for them. Everything was already planned and, in the works, you and Juliet would just be there to make sure everything went smoothly and to supervise any staff working the party.
As soon as you were dismissed, you rushed back to your desk and fired off a text to Victoria about your exciting news. Of course, she already knew and sent affirmations about what a good employee you are and how this is well deserved. There was one other person you really wanted to text, but you weren’t sure if you should. Yes, you and Chris spoke at his party, but it still felt unresolved. Why not, I’m just going to do it!
Y/N: I get to co-manage an event this week!
No immediate response was received, so you threw your phone in your handbag and carried on with your day. Not until some time later did you question why you hadn’t thought of telling Tim instead of Chris. You’d have to think on that one later.
The week carried on with a couple of late-night planning sessions with Juliet, usually at a wine bar, but it was work none the less. You never did hear back from Chris. Your optimistic side said he was busy. You’d settle for that for now.
Tim met you for coffee on Thursday. He picked the coffee house that you had your first date in. It was nice and you enjoyed seeing him sooner in the week than your usual Sunday. He would be coming by for dinner at your place on Sunday. You decided to keep it easy with pizza and beer. Tim was a wonderful cook, so you’d leave the cooking to him.
All day Friday you were on cloud nine. Juliet seemed to be in the same mood and you both floated about the office. You even went as far as grabbing lunch for everyone, even the interns. Nothing could spoil your mood.
At 4 pm, Juliet and yourself arrived at the client, Sarah Johnson’s home. Sarah was hosting a dinner for 10 friends, 12 counting herself and her husband Zack. Knowing that people often brought an extra plus one of two, you made sure the catering team with prepared for 15.
While Sarah’s home was luxurious on the inside with a rather large dinning room, the outside was even grander. Her patio was as large as most people’s living rooms. The outside had two separate seating areas with couches and chairs. The seating area to the right had a gas fire pit that was to be turned on right before guests arrived. Even though it wasn’t requested, you brought graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate bars, and skewers for s’mores. This was definitely a Hollywood dinner party, but who doesn’t enjoy s’mores as a great after-dinner treat?
The seating area to the left was pushed further down the patio to make room for a large table. The rental company was there and ready to set up when you both arrived. Juliet was stationed in the house waiting for the catering team while you stayed outside directing where the table and chairs would be placed.
Once everything was moved into position you started to set and decorate the table. Several bunches of flowers were already waiting in water buckets to be placed in the small square vases you brought. Dried branches and clear glass beads were sprinkled on the pale pink table cloth. You set the table for 12, keeping a few extra place settings in the kitchen just in case. The flowers and fragrance-free candles were placed last. The Johnson’s large swimming pool had several water and lighting features, so you played with them until you found a setting that fit the mood.
You checked in the with Juliet who was being kept busy with both Sarah and the caterer. Guests would be arriving any minute now so you ran to the bathroom off the kitchen to freshen up. Hearing new voices, you quickly exited the bathroom and excused yourself back outside. A few guests made their way outside with Sarah and Zack in tow. Minutes later drinks were brought outside by one of the servers and Juliet. Seeing that both Sarah and Zack were outside entertaining about half the guests, you decided to go back inside to greet the guests as they arrived and usher them outside.
The party was on the younger side. Sarah and Zack were about your age, in their mid 30s, but the majority of their friends were in their early to mid 20s. You had counted eight guests so far including Zack and Sarah. You shot Juliet a text that two more guests had just pulled up. A young woman in her early 20s, wearing a short tight black dress started her way up the walk. You opened the door with a smile plastered on your face. “Welcome,” you greeted.
“Thank you so much. I’m just waiting for my date, he had run back to the car.” You nodded your head and held the door. She was blonde with large sparkling blue eyes and a perfect smile. “This is a beautiful home, I just love it here.” And she’s even really friendly.
“It is a gorgeous home.” You said with a smile.
“I’m Hannah by the way.” She stuck her hand out and you gave her yours telling her your name as well. You heard some shuffling at the door and looked up to see Chris walking in. He looked at you but didn’t say anything. You didn’t say anything either, but that’s only because you were you were so surprised to see him. “There you are. I was getting worried.” She giggled.
“Sorry about that.” He grabbed her hand and started to walk into the house further.
“H-hi Chris.” He turned his headed and nodded to you. The asshole just nodded. I am sure Hannah just thought you were a fan, you were mortified.
“Is everyone outside Y/N?” Hannah asked.
Taking a quick breath and composing yourself, you nodded and gestured with your hand. “Yes, right this way. Is there anything you would like to drink?”
“Vodka tonic for me and a beer, right honey?” She said.
“Yes, please.” He replied, looking everywhere but at you.
“Of course, I’ll have it brought out to you. Enjoy the party.”
You quickly told the bartender their order and pointed out who the drinks would be going to and excused yourself to the bathroom. You just needed a minute. Him being here was unexpected but this was your and Juliet’s chance to make an impression. Surely if tonight went well, you would be given the chance to take the lead in the future. If he wanted to play it off as if he didn’t know you, so be it.
After touching up your hair and a few calming breaths, you left the bathroom with a smile plastered on your face.
The rest of the evening went smoothly. You treated Chris as you would any guest and the evening was a success. High praise was given for the s’mores, especially after many alcoholic beverages were consumed. You and a couple of the servers did have to assist with the marshmallows after a few fell into the fire and on the ground.
Everything was cleaned up and put back in place around midnight and you were thankful. It took a lot of effort to ignore Chris ignoring you. Smiling throughout the night wasn’t all that easy, but Juliet hadn’t noticed, so you called it a success.
On your drive home you decided you were done with Chris Evans. So much for the “we’re fine, we’re friends” comment he said last weekend.
After getting home, you jumped in your shower, and then changed into a large t-shirt for bed. Grabbing your phone to plug it in, you had one missed called and three text messages. All from Chris. Clicking open the text thread you found yourself getting angry.
Chris: Could you call me when you get this?
Chris: I just want to talk to you.
Chris: Let me explain.
Turning off your phone, you placed it back on the night stand and tried to fall asleep. You had to stop in the office for a couple of hours so you wanted to be rested. Except you couldn’t. You kept thinking about Chris. His behavior the last few weeks and the person you knew him to be shortly after you had met, they weren’t the same person. Even though he acted like you were a stranger tonight, you were more upset with him at the party last weekend. While he said you were still friends, he never apologized when he knew you were hurt. And now he wants to talk? What’s that all about. Would it be mature if I texted back Fuck you? This was something you would have to think on. As it stood now, you didn’t plan on calling or texting him back.
@crimeshowtrash @cocomel0613 @flamencodiva @the—blackdahlia @thefandomzoneisdangerous @maddie-laufeyson @shameless-pope @tessvillegas @pivans @angelus320 @symonlyjen5 @inlovewith3 @humandasaster @sleepylunarwolf @ fanfiiiiiiics
#chris evans#a walk in the park#cevans#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x y/n#fanfiction#fanfic#chris evans fanfic#chris evans fan fic
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*Worlds Apart - Eric x OC* part 2
*********************************
It’s too damn hot in Amity, every step Eric takes feels as though it’s weighted down by heavy lead and the sweat soaking through the back of his black T-shirt is so disgustingly uncomfortable he wants nothing more than to rip it off his body and curl underneath one of the shady lush green trees lining the backyards of the houses in this god forsaken faction.
“I take it back. I take it all back.. I’m over the sun and fresh air.. I’ve had it.” Four whines as he drains the last of his water bottle and throws the useless plastic on the floor. They’ve been out here since the morning.. it’s almost four now and the sun hasn’t let up even a little.. it’s brutal. For all of amity’s peace and free love not a single resident has offered a cold drink or a place to sit.. they’re too afraid.
Eric grunts, his body tense as they walk the streets, it isn’t until they see Luca and Nick coming to take their place that he speaks
“Thank the fucking lord.” Eric gives the other men the rundown and quickly gathers his things before walking with Four to the apartment complex they’ve been staying at. There’s no air conditioner in the complex and the food that Dauntless has been delivering is something close to gruel but it’s better than standing under the sun and pacing the streets.
“Woah!”
The pretty brunette from last night quite literally runs into Four, his hands coming out to steady her. She was rounding the corner pretty quickly and had her head buried in paperwork.
“Sophie!” Four exclaims, the tension from earlier on easing rapidly as he smiles at the tiny girl.
“Oh! Hey guys.. sorry about that, I was just checking reports on the crop lines from this week and apparently handwriting isn’t important for this job.” She rolls her eyes showing them the chicken scratch scribbled on the paper in her hands “heading back for the day? It sure was a hot one today!”
“Yeah. I can’t believe how hot it gets here. The apartments have no air so we’re probably going to go stand by the freezer for a couple of hours.” Four teased, Eric couldn’t help but notice the way one of his hands was still resting on Sophie’s hip.. she seemed to notice at the same time and stepped away slightly, cheeks pink and green eyes sparking.
“What?! No way, it is way too hot for that today. Why don’t you guys come with me! I was just heading for Violets, I heard she had a pretty rough day at the infirmary and I’m sure she could use the company! There’s air there and snacks!” Sophie reached for Fours wrist tugging him along with her, Eric debated just going the complete other way and leaving Four to fend for himself but something about cool air and warm brown eyes had him following behind.
It wasn’t very far at all, just a five minute walk to Violets home. It wasn’t anything like Eric had ever seen before.. a white cottage wrapped in pink and red roses, vines tangling around the sides and molding to the window, it was small but not too small and the stone walkway was wide enough for all three of them to fit. It was... pretty? Even Eric was impressed by how well maintained it was. The front door was left unlocked and something about that sat uneasy in his stomach, someone as beautiful as Violet should always lock the door, he’d have to let her know.
“V! I’m here.. and I have a surprise!”
As soon as they stepped foot inside the home, the cold air sent chills up erics entire sweaty body, it smelt like vanilla and strawberries.
“I’m in the bedroom..” her voice was muffled and quiet, there was music playing in the kitchen.. something soft and calming.
Sophie giggled, nodding her head towards the bedroom and motioning for them to follow. There flat on the bed with her face pushed into her mattress was Violet, her hair in a messy bun and her scrub pants still on.
“Long day?” Sophie questioned, he heard Four snort from beside him.
Violet moved her face to the side so only her cheek was pressed against the comforter and smiled brightly albeit a little sleepily when she noticed the two large men taking up space in her doorway.
“You could say that again. Did you guys come over for dinner?” She propped herself up on her elbow and smiled, her eyes falling on Eric, everything about violet was soft and sweet and warm.. a vast contrast to Erics cold and angry disposition.
“I..” He swallowed.
“They did! It’s too hot for them to go back to the Amity complexes and I happen to know Johanna sent you over a couple of bottles of that new wine that tastes like candy.. so we’re going to feed these boys and cheer you up.” Sophie beamed tucked close to Fours side.
“Sounds good to me.. why don’t you get a couple of glasses of iced tea ready, lord knows how long you guys have been standing out in the sun.” Violets voice was something like melted sugar, smooth and clear and sweet.
Sophie and Four made their way to the kitchen, Eric moved to follow them but Violet interrupted him
“It’s really good to see you again.” He turned towards her she was sitting up in bed now, her knees over the edge. She glanced down at the space beside her and nodded inviting him to sit on the open spot. He did, not used to the soft plush feel of her comforter in dauntless he slept on silk sheets and a hard mattress, the complete opposite of her cotton duvet and soft mattress.
“Hmm.” He hummed, too distracted by the smell of her clean skin to fully respond.
“Did you know I had to tend to one of your men today? He shot himself in the foot with his own rifle when a bee stung his leg.”
Eric’s eyes snapped towards her, his tension easing when he saw the smile on her face and the giggle she was trying to hold back.
“You know his name?”
She nodded lazily
“Peter.. He didn’t want me to touch him, he said I was “amity scum.” I had to sedate him to stop him from bleeding out.. it’s been a long day.” She chuckled, standing up to grab the pair of leggings on the dresser and walk into her ajoined bathroom “a couple more of your men passed out due to heat exhaustion.. I’m off tomorrow, first time in two weeks! I think I’ll hand out waters to the troops.. you’re just not used to it is all..”
Peter was an idiot, the dumbest recruit in dauntless without a doubt. He didn’t listen and he was arrogant and while the leaders typically let it slide.. it drove Eric crazy..but to insult the one person who was trying to help him.. to insult her? That wasn’t okay with him.
Violet came out of the bathroom fresh faced with her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, cheeks Rosie and eyes sparkling.
“I think Sophie likes four.” She smiled.
Eric couldn’t help the scrunch of his face
“Why would she do that?”
If violets smile was pretty her laugh was on a whole different level, it filled the entire room and made his skin buzz like he had just touched a wet outlet. She was grinning at him like he had just told the most interesting secret.
“I think he likes her too! They’re awfully cute together don’t you think?” She questioned, head tilted like a puppy waiting for a bone.. normally it would disgust him but with her it seemed to only strengthen the growing attraction he felt deep in the pit of his stomach. She was too fucking cute
“Nah.. they’re dorks.” He snorted
“Oh he’s not so bad! And she’s the prettiest woman on this planet..” she made her way to the bedroom door beside him and he couldn’t stop the words that spilled out
“Not nearly as pretty as you.”
Her eyes flicked up to his, trapped in the doorway his chest nearly connecting with hers. Violet blushed rose petal pink.
“Thankyou.” She whispered, her hands fluttering over his chest for a moment before landing on the place right below his heart.
“anytime.” He grinned, the feeling of her fingers over the thin material of his t shirt making his heart beat just a little faster.
“I.. umm.. I better go and start dinner.. you have to be hungry.” She was breathless as she stepped just a centimeter closer, his arm came around her waist.. large hand splaying over the small of her back.
“Starving.” He whispered, dipping down to brush his lips over her ear. She gasped quietly and moved her hands behind his neck, her fingers gripping at the tattoos that wrapped around his skin.
“Eric.” She whispered back.. pupils blown out and eyes black.
He swallowed thickly, dropping his forehead to hers.
“Violet.” He brought his lips to meet hers just an inch away before...
“Are you guys coming? Iced tea is only iced for so long!” Sophie’s voice called from the living room effectively breaking the moment sending Violet shoving back and stumbling from the doorway.
“Dinner.” She mumbled, flicking back on her wide eyed smile “you need dinner! Come on then.. pasta doesn’t cook itself.” She made her way towards the kitchen, hips swinging just a little more exaggerated than before.
Eric leaned back against the doorframe groaning.
This tiny blonde with the honey hair was going to be the death of him.
#divergent#divergent eric#eric coulter#eric x oc#insurgent#jai courtney#eric coulter fanfiction#eric coulter imagine#divergent fanfiction#eric x oc imagine#olivia holt#theo james#eric fanfic#eric coulter au#cloak and dagger#dauntless#amity
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