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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

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just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

#bts #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook drabble #very brief mention of seokjin x namjoon #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut

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lilmisssweetdreams · 4 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ strawberry lace

mdni, 18+ only

he’s always been cold on his birthdays, that much is a given. he expects the indoor parties and the alcohol blankets. he expects the raging hangovers the next day and the oily regret and the bitter realisation of one more year gone by; lingering in the air like the cold.

what he doesn’t expect is to wake up on the other side of the world.

the south side, that is.

he’s never been one for spontaneous travel—not one to throw caution to the wind and say fuck it! and all that jazz.

well, he wasn’t anyway. not before her.

alex is a planner. alex is careful. alex wants to vet things and carefully structure everything.

she does none of those things.

she’s a whirlwind of all things frazzled and exciting and chaotic. she’s everything he’s not; everything he wants to be.

and so when she begs and begs for a spontaneous birthday trip, (not for her birthday, it's for his birthday) he gives in for once.

he’s 38. he counts as a middle-aged man, alex is sure of it. and yet with her he wants to chase his youth again and again.

the morning of the fifth he wakes up in his own bed.

the morning of the sixth he wakes up in fiji.

what’s more is that he wakes up in an inexplicably pink, princess bedroom. there are balloons—so so many balloons! pink and white and silver and the foil ones that spell “HAPPY BIRTHDAY AL” on the wall in front of him. and the moment he moves an inch, she jumps on him and smothers him with kisses.

“there you are. i’ve been waiting!”

“waiting for?”

“for you to wake up!” she laughs. alex smiles in return and properly pulls her against him. “happy birthday, baby.”

her lips latch onto his, making him melt.

her entire body is warm—not the kind of warm that comes from being in front of the radiator. she’s sunshine warm, like she’s already been outside before he’s even ventured away from the land of the dreaming.

sleep makes his body melt into hers and alex happily nuzzles his face into her tits.

“what’s all this?”

“do you like it?” she asks and presses a kiss into his messy hair. “i could only find pink balloons at first so i just went with the theme.”

“‘s all very cute. just like you.”

alex presses a kiss on her collarbone and inhales the sent of her skin—sunshine and strawberries and vanilla. utterly sweet. once he’s started, there’s no way he can bring himself to stop tasting her skin, breathing her in. drinking in her soft sounds and shivers and relishing the feel of her fingers digging into his bicep.

alex hasn’t even properly opened his eyes yet and he knows he’s already in heaven.

“stay,” he murmurs and finds her lips.

she lightly runs her fingers along his stubbly jaw, all the way to the nape of his neck, sinking them into his hair. then her hand runs lower, gingerly raking her nails down his bare back, making him shiver in delight.

warmth coils in his stomach.

january is supposed to be cold and pine scented, it’s supposed to be stubborn remnants of christmas and bittersweet new years excitement. it’s never been warm, salty breeze and a sweet, sunshine girl in his arms.

“stay in bed with you all day?” she giggles and tries to kiss him again. alex lets her chase his mouth, then smugly pulls back at the last minute.

“stay and keep me warm.”

“you’re plenty warm!”

now that his eyes are properly open, he takes her in inch by inch—first the red of her lips and then down her jaw, her chin, her neck… she’s clad in a bikini top: white lace, printed strawberries, a bow tied at the back. before she can even object, alex pulls on the string and the knot comes undone.

“you’re like my little birthday gift, aren’t you? i get to unwrap all the layers.”

“mmm, is that what you’re doing now?”

her already red lip becomes redder when she bites on it and throws her leg over his so his knee hovers just below her cunt. one movement and he’ll have her shaking under him.

he takes his time though, time is what he has in abundance today.

alex feels his skin tingle, every press of her skin against his is electric—little sparks dancing in the barely-there space between them. her breaths comes out in quick pants and her eyes roam over him. over his face and then his chest that’s devoid of any clothes.

the only clothes he’s wearing are some cotton pyjamas. easy to discard.

the bikini top falls apart and there she is, right under him now, back arching so she can brush her chest against his. get any friction on her nipples really. goosebumps rise on her skin wherever his fingers touch.

“look at you,” alex breathes and swallows roughly. he feels a little drunk then, almost like he’s been intoxicated since the moment he woke up. “my beautiful, perfect girl,” alex hums.

his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone. the heat in his stomach intensifies, his hand comes to rest on the back of her neck. he’s often used this position to hold her in place, to stop her from squirming but this time his hold is gentle.

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed down to her breast.

she mewls when his tongue circles around her nipples.

it doesn’t take another second before her legs are around his middle and his big hands are gripping her thighs. rough, calloused fingers digging into soft flesh while she tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck and makes him groan.

“oh, baby baby,” he breathes on her skin and lets her pull the pyjamas off him. “how am i supposed to let you go anywhere when you look like this.”

“don’t then,” she laughs.

her hands trace his spine and alex feels his cock twitch in his boxers. he needs to be inside her right now, needs to feel her walls clenching around him.

he also wants to taste her but they have all day for that.

“want to be inside you,” alex groans when he feels the wetness between her legs.

she tries to lightly grind onto his stomach, tries to get herself off even if it’s just a little bit.

fuck she’s beautiful, and he doesn’t want to was poetic but the sunlight streaming in through the windows and onto her skin makes her look utterly luminous.

as if in a daze, alex slides the waistband of her underwear off her hips and traces the exposed skin with his fingers. she moans something softly.

“i want you too, al. fuck! baby…”

they barely use their words after that. the room is far from silent though—it echoes with moans and sighs and the sound of her laughter when alex nips at her skin. it’s like a little rhythm—he bites softly and chases away the sting with a lick. he leaves a mark and then rewards her with a kiss.

she doesn’t resist him at all when her underwear joins the heap on the floor with the rest of their clothes.

his hang inches between her legs and finds her clit, fingers rubbing lazily over it, almost in circles, slow at first and growing faster until she’s squirming for more—more friction and more of him and this and ecstasy and alex knows whatever he’s doing isn’t enough but just this once he wants to hear her beg.

(oh, who is he kidding! he always wants to hear her beg and plead and show him how much she wants him.)

“stop being a tease,” she whines and he laughs at her desperation.

finally, alex decides to end this misery. for her and for him. the need is driving him insane too.

when the first thrust comes, slow and sensual—and without warning—her eyes roll back in her head. she whimpers something, curses softly and holds onto him, legs locking around him so she can take him in deeper.

“shit baby…” he moans too. she’s squeezing him so tight. all he feels is her wetness and warmth. all he feels is his cock stretching her open.

she closes her eyes and alex tuts. “open your eyes,” he nudges, “i want you to look at me when you cum.”

and so she obliges, looking him in the eye and moaning his name softly with each thrust, lifting her hips to meet his and grinding her clit on his stomach.

the pressure inside him builds with each thrust, his entire body feels charged and taut and a current runs right under his skin.

under him, she’s as electric as a live wire.

“look at what you do to me,” she moans and alex feels her thighs begin to tremble.

she must be close now, she’s certainly acting like it—nails scratching his back, teeth softly sinking into his shoulder so she doesn’t scream loud enough for everyone to hear. (if it weren’t mid morning, he would have liked to make her scream. alex mentally marks it for later tonight.)

her hips thrust upwards, trying and failing to match him. she’s erratic, almost manic. there’s no rhythm to her movements, only lust and desire and so much want for him that he feels a wave of it run through his whole body.

under him she shudders and cries out.

“al, baby… gonna cum, f-fuck!”

he’s about to speak, about to tell her to let go but she’s already there. her body goes tense as alex feels her squeeze around him, so fucking tight that it tips him over the edge.

alex thrusts into her as the orgasm hits him hard. ropes and ropes of his cum filling her up, spilling from the sides under the insides of her thighs are sticky and wet with slick. both their release combined dripping out of her.

alex can’t help but drip a finger in the mess they’ve made and bring it up to her mouth.

“taste us,” he says and shivers when she swirls her tongue around his fingers.

he doesn’t know how long it takes them to comes down from the high. all he knows is that they stay like that, bodies locked together, him on top of her, breathing her in. the strawberry scent of her body lotion has dulled a bit now, replaced by sex and sweat. he makes absolutely no move to pull out, only adjusts himself so his entire weight isn’t on top of her.

“happy birthday, al.” this time her voice comes out breathy and soft. it surrounds him, permeates through his skull and bounces around his brain.

birthday. yes. his birthday. that’s what they’re here for.

“mmm, thank you, darling. you’re my gift, aren’t you?” his mouth moves to hers again—another sultry, lazy kiss. another long minute passes. “the absolute best birthday gift i’ve ever had.”

“is that so?”

“would you like me to show you my gratitude?” alex smirks.

and then he moves again to position his mouth between her legs.

#♡: fics #smut #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner smut #alex turner fanfic #arctic monkeys #arctic monkeys fanfic #minors do not interact #female reader #no minors allowed

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— CELEBRATION DAY

SUMMARY : cowboy Dean, that’s it! yeah, yeah, I’ve got a thing.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), blowjob (mentioned), handjob, unprotected p in v, angst, fluff

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. omg, I wanna thank my big brothers for watching Supernatural when I was little. I never woulda met Dean’s gorgeous, galaxy freckled face, green-eyed sparkle sparkle, majestic body, honey hair, smirky, pillow lip prince—what was I saying? oh yeah, I love Dean, happy birthday to the man I’ve loved the longest 💗

Dean didn’t think the whole month of January could get any better.

Everyday Y/n left a gift for him somewhere around the bunker for him to find. It was like the Twelve Days of Christmas song, but so much better.

He was really pretty sure she was stealing most of them.

On the first day, a pin up style calendar, but instead of random women, it was her and all his favourite kinks and fetishes. If he could, he’d say he loved her in every language that exists. It’s the only way for him to show that he truly means it. At least he thinks so.

On the second day, he received seven different types of necklaces that she thought he’d look prettiest in, but one stood out. One that he’d offhandedly shown interest in when they were window shopping to walk off the effects of caffeine in her system. The love letter smelled of coffee and recounted the feelings she had watching him be so domestic.

On the third day, she gave him a Street Fighter arcade game perfect for his Dean Cave. He swore he’d beat her, but he didn’t have the heart to do so, and let her KO him (she already knew what he was doing).

On the fourth day, she got him a new, stainless steel watch. She attached a small love letter addressed to him, the last words were spoken by the Doctor: You waited long enough. Time and time again, with her by his side, he yearned for normalcy, a family, getting out. For some reason, an object that measured time symbolised their endless love, a promise that made him breathless.

On the fifth day, he was given seven different rings. The letter for this gift said something along the lines of: I need to practise proposing. And you didn’t say no, so this is going great. He chuckled at that. He’d never say no to her, especially not to marriage.

On the sixth, she gave him a porn magazine, starring : her. He found it in the library when she sent him to pick up a book for her. A magazine like one belonging to Playboy that drove him crazy every day that he remembered what was in it. And that tiny love letter she put inside… He hoped no one would put their hands on that one. It was for his eyes only.

On the seventh, a black 1962 corvette that she put together with the help of her older brother. To say Dean was impressed was an understatement, despite all those times he taught her how to put the Impala back together, he was both turned on and fascinated with her work. And obviously they, uh, christened it. Or whatever.

On the eighth, she surprised him with twelve books he’d intended to read for such a long time, but never got around to searching for them. Shane; Whiskey When We’re Dry; Lonesome Dove; Blood Meridian. Were some of the titles he recognised and he was more than thrilled to dive into them and relax completely as reality faded around him.

On the ninth, she gifted him a new cowboy outfit. She put that in the room where he kept all the costumes he wore. The material was more original, with amazing quality—aka, not cheap. A whole bunch of Hecho en Mexico tags that he’d ask her to read to him—in Spanish of course. For reasons. (And that love letter he found in the inner pocket also needed to be read in Spanish, too.)

On the tenth, he got to open a giant box of Scooby snacks. Here and there, there were a few of his other favourite snacks, but there were mostly Scooby snacks that he’d been munching on ever since.

The eleventh, the gift he received were seven different bracelets. According to the love letter, they were gifts to keep him bound to her only.

The twelfth, a brand new espresso machine. That was simply found by him in the kitchen, new, with an olive-green bow and a small lover letter. All that yummy coffee he gets to consume in the morning with her, trying it out together. Two coffee addicts in love. Nothing better.

The thirteenth, the gift was going to an amuent park together. They ate too many foods, went on all—if not most—of the rides, took a hundred photos, tried on the silly clothes, played the games—mini-golf, go-carts… He was exhausted as soon as they got inside the Impala. So, it was a last minute decision to stay at a nearby hotel for the night. It was the best sleep he had in ages.

The fourteenth, a large journal in multitudes of journaling styles detailing things she loved about him that particular day or something he did that made her smile. It was cheesy, but very beautiful. The care and attention to detail made Dean’s heart lurch in his chest. From the cute bullet journal style, to the more than accurate drawings of him, and sophisticated details about things he didn’t know about himself, his habits, or other things he did. It was a collection of her love for him, which somehow made any fears evaporate like steam in a shower.

The fifteenth, forty-five new sets of socks with cute and/or funny prints. And she was prepared with a new drawer for all of them to fit, rolled up perfectly like… well, whatever delicious meal she had planned just as he liked. Enchiladas. Yummy. And a new love letter shoved inside a sock to make him blush and smile boyishly.

For the sixteenth day, it was four cassette mixtapes of all the songs they listened to when they went on some of their most meaningful dates and that played in the most memorable, intimate moments of their lives. Now it made sense why she was thrilled to learn and watch him prepare the mixtape he made for Cas. (It was better afterwards when his skills and patience were more than noticed by her and she—anyway, it was hot sex.) As for the love letter, it was profoundly clear that she wanted to praise and show she recognised his expertise, intelligence, and skill (not that she hasn’t praised him for it before).

For the seventeenth day, he got a Katana. He didn’t need it, he didn’t even know he wanted it until he held it in his hands and unsheathed it. God, that was awesome. Of course he’d probably almost accidentally hurt himself playing around with it, using it unnecessarily in the kitchen—just as an example.

For the eighteenth day, a sex position book with over 300 sex positions to try. It almost offended him, but after looking through a few pages, he was convinced that she was right and they needed to try some of the kinkier positions.

For the nineteenth day, she handed him a lengthy collection of mint condition Batman comic books. He was so not cool about that, gushing and grinning, holding her tightly until she pushed him away to breathe properly.

For the twentieth day, he received some new vinyl records of his favourite songs from his favourite bands to nearly complete his collection of music. And as always, he found a love letter relating to the gift she gave to him where she’d ‘hid’ the vinyls above his desk.

For the twenty-first: an old photo album filled with photos he’d never seen from his childhood and up to last year. Some he never even remembered living, but they did skip a few memories that made him smile sadly. She confessed she got Cas to take her back into the past to sneakily take pictures of him and everything he lived through. It was oddly… endearing. Then, she gave him an empty photo album, only their New Year’s kiss was placed inside a protective, plastic pocket. Ready to be filled by him, this time around.

For the twenty-second, a custom made Batman costume. The story for this one was that she made a deal with one of Charlie’s old LARPing friends: if she got rid of a ghost in his house, he’d make her the costume. And after that, she got one of the Dean’s from another universe to act as the model for the measurements Charlie’s old friend took to make the costume fit him perfectly. There were a few ideas Dean had regarding that costume, and he’s more than a hundred percent sure Y/n’s been thinking the same thing ever since he tried it on.

For the twenty-third, a twelve month pie subscription, obviously on National Pie Day. And he got to try the first one that day, rhubarb pie that made his mouth water as soon as the sticky insides made contact with his taste buds. How many times does he have to say he’s lucky in his mind?

And today, he had yet to find out.

He was spoiled.

Lavishing in her love for the past twenty-four days—more so than usual, soaking in it like the waffles he drowned in syrup for breakfast in the morning.

Right after his birthday blowjob as soon as he woke up.

He ate those soft, perfectly crunchy, warm waffles in bed while basking in the golden afterglow of his orgasm. Breathless and dazed, he didn’t worry about a single thing as he moved from one waffle to the next, eating his favourite fruits, jams, chocolate chips, maple syrup, honey… all the things she knew he loved indecisively.

And while she licked her lips clean of his cum, he licked his lips clean of whipped cream.

God, he was lucky.

She was awesome. More than awesome.

There were no words he could find to describe her.

The only problem with today was that he wasn’t gonna be the centre of just her attention. He could deal with that. He loved it, in fact. What he did not love was having to be the centre of attention with all his friends and family around.

He just felt… maybe… shy. Embarrassed? Old?

He wasn’t used to it. Not to that kind of attention from his friends, anyway. As much as they loved him and as much as he loved them. It was different. New.

He was anxious about it.

It was usually a phone call, a text, or nothing. He was fine with that. He didn’t really care. He was always hunting before. They were always busy with their hunts or their lives and birthday were always… whatever.

He was used to Y/n. To the way she loved him. Worshipped him, even. Daily. It was almost the same as any other day, except for the gifts—which were grand, more… thoughtful and loving. As if she lived in his brain and heart, digging through his wishes and dreams to find the perfect gift to make him feel special. Something that lasted, something to be used, something to be loved by him.

He was used to Sam. To the occasional, remorseless thieving of his little brother to get him what he thought he’d like. The singular, impactful gifts or the silly-joke gift he gave first to trick him into thinking it was something meaningless, thoughtless. The pat in the back, the hug, the pie, the childish decoration, the alcohol… a typical sibling birthday party meant to be laughed at.

He was getting used to Cas. To the overuse of emoticons in the birthday text. The awkwardness in the hug before it settled and became comfortable to do. The thoughtful gift he recieved, something Dean mentioned whenever they hung out—even if it was ridiculous. Cas could get it. He’s an angel. And the best friend Dean could ever ask for.

Jack… was, well, he’s Jack. He tried to copy Cas, Sam, Y/n. A mixture of all of the things they did, taking notes of what they were up to, finding something that was… him and not all of them. Dean’s heart softened and he cut Jack some slack, appreciating the effort, the thought he put into it, even if sometimes it was… bad.

But now, some of his closest friends would be making their way to him and he was just not prepared for all of that.

What he was prepared for, was his girlfriend’s skillful ability to make a larger-than-necessary Rice Krispies Treat cake just for him. She liked it as much as he did now, replacing the traditional birthday cake—she wasn’t much of a cake fan. But his stomach’s heart did love those tres-leches cakes.

Dean got dressed up as a cowboy as soon as Sam left to help Eileen prepare for the mini birthday party. He knew it did things to Y/n, even if she refused to admit it to him every time he brought it up or teased her about it.

He tried to cling to her the whole day.

He failed.

She was up to secret stuff.

He only got to be in her presence when she cooked or as she decorated the library where they’d later be embarrassing him with their loving attention. He helped her with all of that, of course—despite her protests. He’d hold her for a few minutes, kiss her a little bit, and then he’d follow behind her as if he couldn’t find anything better to do himself.

He watched her pull out game after game, after game, and set it down on different tables. Cards Against Humanity. Loteria. UNO. Bingo. A few other classics, some from his childhood. And she was texting Sam the whole time for the location of each game, where to set it, agreeing on some and putting others away.

Dean didn’t mind. As long as there was something that took most of the attention away from him and towards something else.

He played with the die from one of the games as he followed her around. His eyes traced over colourful candles, little horns to blow funny sounds out of, balloons, string, paper, confetti, banners, funny hats and glasses, and a dozen other items and decorations that made him feel like a kid again.

Dean liked to watch her, and she liked watching his reaction to whatever she pulled out of the plastic bags he remembered watching Sam and Jack coming in with a few days ago.

Dean was happy once she was done and finally resting from all the planning and tasks she was completing. She’d play with the buttons on his suit jacket by buttoning and unbuttoning them boredly as she took a break before heading off to the next activity.

After she made the cake, she made extra for both of them to snack on—even though she’d also given him a piece before she prepared the Rice Krispies treat. The two of them waited for their friends to get to the Bunker and ate the small slice while watching a random movie on the television.

Dean started to wonder what his brother would be getting him. Or Cas. Jack. Claire. Jody. Donna. Oh. He wanted to be sucked up into the couch, no, into Y/n’s soul. Just the thought of receiving a gift from everyone other than the people who currently lived in the Bunker made him flustered and embarrassed.

He had no doubts the gifts would be good. Still, there was something about gifts and birthday parties that made him… uncomfortable. As much as he loved each and every single one of them, as much as he secretly adored being loved.. it felt like asking too much, even if this was all their idea.

Even though he would do this and so much more for them.

Dean didn’t know they were up to this until last week when Sam randomly brought it up. Y/n jumped on board immediately, then Jack did, and Cas. Jack and Cas were in charge of buying the snacks, which Dean appreciated because Sam tended to get distracted and would forget to buy some of the most important items—according to Dean, of course. The pie, being the main item.

Dean realised that neither he nor she were really paying attention to the movie. Their plates laid abandoned on the table next to the green leather couch they sat on. The cowboy hat was abandoned on Dean’s bed. She was tucked into the corner with one leg propped up in it with the other dangling over the edge. Dean settled on his back in between her legs with his head on her shoulder.

That was just the first step in seducing her.

He wondered if he’d get more lottery tickets from everyone. If they’d bring some of the funniest, endearing birthday cards where they had to change the main title to for his age because he had the taste of a kid. He hoped they wouldn’t do something illegal like he knew Y/n and Sam were doing to make this the best birthday party for him. (Though, Dean was generally feeling pretty smug about their naughtiness.)

He wouldn’t mind repeated gifts at all, as in… if Claire wanted to go mini-golfing with him and gave him another ticket… or if Jack simply wanted to try fishing with him again. He’d love that. To spend time with them. The people he cared most about.

He played with her slim fingers, traced her knuckles, and teased the soft skin of her arms with his fingertips when she slipped them around his waist. He lifted her hands up to his lips, worshipping one thoroughly with his lips, warming them up for her.

Her other hand rested over his chest where his heart was beating rapidly at the thought of what he wanted. Her hand laid still for a few seconds before she began to play with the buttons of his white dress shirt, then tapped her mossy-green nails against the ovaloid metal buckle of his belt.

He dropped her hand gingerly to let her play with his clothes using both of her hands and he took to tracing her legs with his fingers over thick, warm pyjamas. He could feel her body release the tension of her stress, and for a moment, he smiled softly and felt his body do the same thing.

When he turned to look at her, she glanced away from his chest where she was gently scratching his shirt to make the funny sound of cloth being scraped. He kissed her when she smiled at him, one small peck, not entirely innocent.

The movie was long forgotten soon after that. Not that they were paying attention to it before anyway.

Dean scooted up slightly to kiss her properly with one hand on her jaw, his fingers entwined through her soft hair, bringing her plush lips closer to his. It was unhurried, lazy, the slow build from firm, deep kisses, to demanding, heated ones that caused a blush to flare up their faces.

Breathlessly, she began unbuttoning his shirt while he unbuckled his belt, but they continued kissing. His tongue slipped between her sweet lips, tasting more sweetness from the marshmallow and rice treat they ate not long ago.

She brought the white t-shirt up his chest—excruciatingly slow—when she fully unbuttoned his dress shirt. Her fingertips slipped up the soft flesh of his tummy, his toned and freckled chest, then she flattened her palm over his rapidly thudding heart. Leisurely, she smoothed her hand down his soft, slightly scarred skin, brushing past the fine, blonde hair trailing down beneath his belly button.

Dean moaned into her mouth and impatiently lifted his hips from the couch. She snuck her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and curled her fingers around the base of his hardening length. Dean gasped against her kiss-swollen lips and closed his eyes tightly, promptly rolling his hips to push his cock through her fingers.

“You look so hot like this,” she whispered against the corner of his lips. Dean squirmed and spread his legs when he planted his feet flat on the floor to aid each of his thrusts. Gently, she placed her other hand around his neck to tip his head back and to the side to place a feverish kiss to his cracked, pillowy lips.

She continued moving her hand along his length, from root to tip, playing with the precum that began to accumulate and stain the cotton of his underwear.

Dean’s chest rose and fell quickly with each breath, attempting to hold off his orgasm. His thighs tensed, muscles constricting beneath thin dress pants as she twisted her hand up and down his cock inside his slacks and boxers. His lips moved desperately against hers and he swiped his tongue across hers, his brows furrowed in mind-numbing pleasure.

Dean’s fingers dug into her thighs on either side of his body, trying to keep himself stable as his hips bucked up into her hand, driving his cock faster through her fingers. Her hand squeezed at the sides of his neck and released to make his brain fuzzier, neurons hazed with lust and need.

“Please… I wanna be inside you, baby,” Dean panted against her lips as she kissed him. Instead, she rapidly continued to tug at his cock, her fist wrapped tightly around him until he felt like exploding. “I can’t- please- I need you,” he begged, but never dared to stop her as her lips trailed away to his jawline, to suck a dark mark on the sensitive skin of his neck.

She suddenly loosened her grip on his cock and slowly slid her slick palm up the front of his body. His orgasm began to fade away and his body slumped against hers, his chests heaving with each breath, his heart racing. Her lips brushed against his earlobe, “you’re right…” she murmured.

“A-about what?” He mumbled, lifting himself up to turn and face her. She was smiling at him when he gazed at her, her eyes soft and full of love, mirroring the much more dishevelled expression on his own, pink face.

Her eyes flickered away from his dewy green eyes when he leaned into her. He watched them travel up his body, from his thigh pressing into the leather next to her leg, to his boxers shoved low on his hips, exposing curly, light brown hair, his unzipped slacks and therather belt hanging losing around his hips, up to the opened dress shirt and t-shirt beneath draped haphazardly over his chest, and then her eyes stopped at his mouth.

She tilted her head and met him the rest of the way to press her lips against his, placing a soft, adoring peck. “I do think cowboys are fucking hot, especially you,” she smirked, scratching gently at the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny hairs behind his head.

Dean bit his lip, mirroring her expression, and hummed, “is that right?” She nodded, her other hand slipping down to tease the waistband of his boxers. Dean’s calloused hands travelled up her sides, sneaking beneath her long-sleeved shirt, up warm, soft skin. “I already knew, just wanted to hear you say it.”

She laughed shortly, allowing Dean to lift her thick shirt up and off her body. Dean’s lips came down to her neck, hot and open-mouthed kisses flushing her skin. His hands traced her sides and eventually hooked at the top of her leggings to pull down the material covering her legs. He carefully let her lay down as she shifted to fully remove her leggings and underwear.

But she sat upright once more before Dean could settle between her warm legs. Dean remained fully clothed and he laughed against her breasts when she impatiently shoved his slacks and boxers lower. His hands remained firmly on her body, exploring inches of familiar skin—squeezing, pulling, and holding.

His soft lips moved over the expanse of her chest, teeth nibbling on sensitive flesh, his wet tongue tasting her velvety skin. Her hands made their way down past his cock to cup his balls, which made Dean’s brow rise in pleasant surprise, his mouth freezing around her nipple.

He moaned around her skin and brought his own hand down between her legs as his cock bobbed excitedly. Warm slick coated his fingertips when he slid his fingers through her folds. With a pleased hum, she reached back to grip the wooden handle of the couch, and gently pressed her palm against his balls.

He played with her clit, coating it in her arousal, then buried his middle finger inside her. She bit her lip and arched her back, a jolt from his thumb pressing into her clit causing her to moan. She removed her hand from between his legs—much to his disappointment—to dig her nails into his taut thigh.

Dean dragged his tongue across her chest to attend to her other breast and dipped a second finger into her. Her pussy fluttered around his scissoring fingers, she whispered his name, moving her legs over his hips in a more comfortable position. Her hand slid up to bunch up in his shirt as her thighs twitched, screwing her eyes shut as the pleasure dazed her.

Her shift in position brought her centre closer to him and he pushed a third finger into her, working her open thoroughly, expertly. Her wetness drenched his thick fingers, making every push and pull swift and easy. They curled inside her, rubbing delectably at her g-spot, pressing delightfully into the most sensitive parts of her walls. Her toes curled and she lifted herself up higher in his lap, implicitly urging him to skip to the fucking.

Dean instantly did as she wordlessly requested and pulled his glistening fingers out of her warmth. He stroked his cock a few times, first, watching her watch him coat himself in her excitement. He looked back down between their flushed bodies when he began moving his cock through her dewy folds, moaning contentedly at the sensation of her against him.

She unclenched her hand from his shirt to bring up behind his neck, her delicate fingers slipping between short hairs. Finally, Dean pushed himself into her deliberately, then out gradually. Over and over they created a rhythm.

With one foot on the floor and his knee pressing into the backrest, his hands gripping her hips tightly. His lips connected to any part of her he could reach, moaning and gasping softly against her skin with every clench of her pussy, every measured thrust to feel every inch of her slide across his cock.

Her arm flexed behind her as she moved with Dean, her fingers gripping the wooden arm of the couch tightly, timing each roll of her hips with his. Occasionally, she met every one of his thrust and brought his face closer to her with her fingers curled around the back of his neck.

His breath dampened her already steamy skin and his hands started to wander lovingly over her shiny body, feeling the exertion of her muscles beneath his calloused palms.

Gradually, they began to move faster against each other.

Dean’s body built up more heat with the clothes still covering every inch of him. His mouth went dry with every open-mouthed breath and he searched for her lips as a tingle ran up his spine, his stomach clenching to foreshadow his impending orgasm.

He felt her breath against his lips and her fingers moved deeper into his hair, tugging so his mouth fell open. Her lips moved over his, her wet tongue bringing moisture back into his mouth, and over his chapped lips. Dean kissed her back with so much more force, easing his tongue into her mouth when she pulled hers out to smirk into the kiss.

He squeezed her ass, painfully pressing his fingers into her back, desperately trying to feel her against his body. He fucked into her briskly, with strong thrusts that pressed his cock deeper into her channel until she squirmed from how good it was. He swallowed her pleased groan and brought her closer with his arm around her waist and his palm flat against her back.

Dean’s thrust became erratic, every slam of his hips and every roll of hers made contact with her clit, bringing her close to the edge with him. Every touch of each other’s bodies, every hot and lewd kiss, every heavy and fast breath, every breathless and pleasured sound, every wet and hot sensation built up like volatile chemicals.

With a few final thrusts, Dean came with a groan of her name by her ear. She squeezed his cock tightly and cursed at the sensation of his hot cum coating her insides. Her thighs pressed into his hips as she orgasmed with a sharp gasp, clinging to him as they rode out their climax.

Dean ground his hips up into her, keeping himself deep inside her as she shook and held him in a tight embrace. Their lips met once more for a softer, more elated kiss as they became blanketed in the afterglow of their release. She released the wooden arm of the couch to cup Dean’s scruffy jaw and Dean’s arms circled around her waist.

He moved backwards carefully and laid her down onto her back, allowing her to fully wrap her legs around his waist. Dean shoved his suit jacket and dress shirt off as they kissed. She smiled against his mouth and let him pull away fully from her lips to watch him throw both items onto his bed.

“It was cold before, but it’s hot now,” he muttered, pulling his t-shirt up over his head by the back of the neck. She giggled and brought her hands to his ass, moving his pants and underwear lower, past his thighs.

“Well…” she trailed off, gazing at him as he slowly pulled his cock out of her. “Hey,” she pouted, moving his attention away from the mess between her legs and the mixture of their spendings leaked out of her.

“Uh, yeah?” He grinned, moving off the couch to kick off the cowboy boots, and everything else so he was fully naked before her.

“Your last gift,” she started, looking over to the bed. Before returning to his spot between her legs, Dean followed her eyes and lifted a brow. “It’s under your pillow,” she smiled shyly, looking up at him as his lips parted and then made an ‘o’.

“Awesome,” he murmured, making his way to his side of the bed. He searched underneath with a swipe of his hands beneath the cool pillow and grabbed the small, somewhat heavy box decorated with pink wrapping paper and a silver bow. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it curiously.

She laughed at him, taking the unused napkin from the table to clean herself up, which distracted Dean from his gift. He was about to protest, offering to clean her up, but she laughed. He pouted at her, but settled back in her arms in the same position as before once she finished.

“I really… really hope you like this one,” she whispered against his shoulder. Dean looked back at her and smiled softly—his eyes reassuring her that he’d like anything that came from her. He carefully pulled at one end of the bow to watch it fall apart into a straight line.

He ripped the paper to reveal a wooden box. Dean imagined a necklace, if the thud against the soft cushion inside the box revealed anything about what it actually was.

A ring? He planned on proposing, but he’d say yes if she turned the tables. He smiled at the thought, but he doubted that they were stepped enough into a normal life for that. If it were up to him, he’d have asked her to marry him ages ago.

He opened the box slowly and blinked at the steel key.

“A… key?” He asked out loud, turning his body to look at her as she waited for his reaction anxiously.

“I… bought a house?” She squeaked, her cheeks turning dark. Dean’s lips parted. He wanted to question her, to make a comment about what the place looked like or where it was or how much it cost, to say anything, but his throat tightened and clogged any words from escaping. With his tongue heavy in his mouth, there was no hope to ease her anxiety. He shut it instead. “For you- us. You and me…” she rambled, wrapping her hand around his to shut the box as if it were Pandora’s box—unleashing her deepest fears, but worst of all, her hope.

“I…” Dean trailed off, staring at the wooden exterior of the square container. A little box that would give him the future he’s secretly always yearned for with her. He was too much of a coward to ever do anything and go for it. Her hand moved away from his and she shifted behind him awkwardly, pushing him off her so he’d face her instead.

“You don’t…” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “It’s okay, if you don’t want… this…” She snatched the gift away from him as if she’d show him her deepest secret and had been judged for revealing what it was.

“No! I-I do want this,” Dean reassured her and quickly took it back to open it, and remove the key from inside. He placed it on his palm, cold, small, and light against his sweaty skin. “I just…” His eyes flickered up to hers, the guarded and nearly stony expression on her face twisting his stomach in regret. “I love you,” he breathed, pressing his lips against the corner of her lips.

“Are you sure?” She bit her lip, her eyes dancing over his face to gauge any emotion or shift that would hint to reveal he was truly feeling. “I don’t want you to be unhappy… if you don’t want this, it’s okay. You can tell me. I have a backup gift anyway,” she shrugged casually, moving to sit on her legs next to him.

She gazed at the side of his face as he continued to make her heart plummet with the long stare at the key in his hand.

“Why?” He asked with knitted brows, looking at her. He could tell she felt much more bare and vulnerable as she crossed her arms over his chest and kept herself covered with her own body.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to give it to you just yet,” she admitted. Dean frowned. “But after today… the way you followed me around and helped me.. I changed my mind,” she shrugged again, “but it’s okay if we both want something different, if you’re not ready… you know I’d wait…” She smiled nervously, so it didn’t last, and her mouth returned to a straight line.

“No more waiting, baby.” Dean shook his head and put the key back into the box, leaving it beside him to take her hands. He lifted them both up to his lips, staring into her eyes to demonstrate his earnestness, “you waited long enough.”

“I promise you that I’m ready,” he reassured her, brushing his thumbs against her knuckles. “This gift… it means so much to me. I do, truly, love you.” Dean tugged her hands and she finally laughed, allowing herself to be happy with him. In this moment. And forever. No more waiting.

As he held her, Dean pictured the future they could have together and let his body rest without fear of everything else going on. For once, he’d let himself be happy. It was the one way he could let go of Sam, allowing both himself and his baby brother a shot at a normal life, something Dean wanted for himself and Sam for so long. This was the first step to freedom.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” she whispered against his forehead, kissing the tiny scar that resided there.

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overly-specific-byron-memes · 3 months

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Happy 200th anniversary of Byron’s final birthday before his death 🥲

'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! Seek out—less often sought than found— A Soldier's Grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy Ground, And take thy rest.

from “On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year”, 22 January 1824

#lord byron #byron memes #sorry for not posting very much 😭

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storiesfromafan · 11 months

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Traitor

A/N: its been a little while. Back with some more angst haha. This will be a 2 part, maybe even a 3 part 🙂

Pairing: Mattheo x Fem! Raventclaw Reader

Warnings: angst

Ooh-ooh-ooh

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

It’s funny how you can go from happily in a relationship one minute and then sour, almost bitter from the ending of it, the next. That is what happened to you. Blissfully happy with Mattheo Riddle during your fifth year. You had spent your Easter holidays at home, accompanying your father to a Ministry party. You had been at your father’s side to start before finding yourself sitting alone. Sometime later your father had returned to you with two familiar Slytherin boys in tow, Draco Malfoy and Mattheo Riddle. Your father had business with Lucius Malfoy and had said you and the two males could keep each other company. It was a start to a budding friendship for the three of you. By the time you returned to Hogwarts you and Mattheo had a flirtatious thing going on. Soon it led to dating and by the end of May you were his girlfriend.

The rest of the year was learning about each other and learning how to function in a relationship. For the most of it, it was good. But slowly you started to see how possessive Mattheo could get, or his jealous tendencies. Though you learned it was due to his home life and up bringing. You talked it out with him as best you could, as he gave vague answers to your questions. You were satisfied with what you learnt. What would be red flags, were more pink after your talk. You didn’t push him more then needed, you didn’t want to cause him to shut off from you or end your relationship. So, fifth year ended with your relationship being solid, and happy.

After a decent summer holiday, the 1st of September returned and off to Hogwarts came around marking your sixth year. You returned with Mattheo at your side, hands locked together. Your relationship strong and seeming to only get stronger. Unfortunately, you didn’t foresee you’d make it to the New Year before Mattheo broke up with you. You asked him all the typically questions to why he was breaking up with you, and you got a typical answer from the brunet with the deepest brown eyes.

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies

Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew

That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse

I kept quiet so I could keep you

You recall the 2nd of January; you were enjoying the afternoon sun in the courtyard when Mattheo approached you. You were all smiles when seeing him, greeting him before starting to talk about your upcoming classes in a few days. It wasn’t long before he cut you off, his tone harsh and a tad formal. It was unlike him to be like that. For the Mattheo you knew was considerate, patient and an attentive listener. This Mattheo was someone you didn’t know. Looking at him in confusion he took that as his cue to speak.

“Y/N, I have been thinking during Christmas break” he started looking down at his feet. “I have found the last almost seven months to have been a wonderful time together” he looked up at you with those deep brown eyes of his, they shone with guilt.

You felt a sudden cold sensation wash over you. “Theo, you’re…you’re not saying what I think your saying” you said shakily, scared eyes looking back at him.

He nodded his head once, “yes, it is Y/N”.

You felt sick with every word he said. You hadn’t even known there was a problem with your relationship. You thought you were both happy, and in love. But here he was, breaking up with you. And the first thing you thought of was her. The Slytherin girl named Anna Frost, blonde long locks, green eyes and petite form. Mattheo had over the last three months became close to the girl, his friend as he called her. But you always thought there was something there. Before telling yourself, you were just being silly, a little jealous.

“We have had so many amazing times together” a small sad smile forming on his lips before he went back to a blank expression. “But we’ve run our course Y/N/N. I hope we can still be friends”.

Friends. That was a slap to the face, adding salt to an exposed wound. How could he say that to you? It was like the Mattheo you knew was dead, and the person before you were an imposter. Or was this who he really was? Had he played you the whole time? No, he hadn’t. You had shared so many personal and private things together.

“I-I don’t understand” you sputtered, trying to wrap your head around it.

He sighed. “I had wanted to be as nice as possible about this” his tone cold. “Us, we are over. We are done”. And without waiting for your reply, Mattheo walked off. Leaving you alone, cold, mind reeling and uncomfortable with the eyes currently on you.

So, you gathered your belongings before rushing back to your Ravenclaw dorm room. Where you finally cried as it sunk in. Mattheo dumped you. Your whimsical romance was over. Your heart ripped out and stomped on by the Slytherin Devil himself.

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her

The second that we called it quits?

And ain't it funny

How you said you were friends?

Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Gossip in the few days after your breakup told you that as soon as Mattheo broke up with you, he was running off to his blonde Slytherin friend. They were seen hanging out together, along with Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire. All chatting and laughing away, like only ten minutes before, when he broke up with you, didn’t happen. He acted like nothing transpired, you hadn’t existed, or he’d been in a relationship with you. It hurt to hear that. The girls in your Ravenclaw dorm were there for you and told you before you heard it from anyone else.

But as your mind started to think everything over, you thought it funny how he ran off after breaking up with you to her. Now it sure as hell didn’t look like friends with them. Who goes from the girl they broke up with, to their female friend and act like their ex didn’t exist? The times you had thought you were being silly, and jealous, over the Slytherin girl were now not a laughing matter. His actions spoke loud and clear.

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

Betrayal. The best word to describe what Mattheo had done to you. You had been there for him, for the good times and the bad. But also, the worst moments, which usually involved his home life. He would get letters, which he never showed you and you respected his privacy, but they would leave him almost a shell of himself. So, you would be the one to drag him somewhere you both could be alone. You’d hold him and tell him all the great things about him. Slowly building him back up till he was almost himself again. He had been so grateful for those moments. And the way he’d repay you was giving you all his attention when he could or taking you to Hogsmeade and making those dates so special. Mattheo treated you like a Princess for all the kindness you gave him.

Finally processing what had happened, you were left feeling sour, bitter from how it ended. And those feelings only got worse as after two weeks Mattheo and Anna started dating. It was the hot gossip Monday morning, as they walked into the Great Hall together holding hands. That had been how you both had entered the hall every mealtime, before parting ways to sit at respected tables, though your eyes were always watching the other. Mattheo and Anna sat side by side at the Slytherin table, that was on display to you. As you unconsciously sat where you had always sat. You looked away from them as you picked at your food, occasionally eating. But every now and then you would look to them. Anna fussed over Mattheo and laughed at whatever was said. Or there was the time you looked, and they were talking with Draco and Pansy, he smiled softly at their conversation while Anna held onto Mattheo’s arm.

Now you bring her around

Just to shut me down

Show her off like she's a new trophy

And I know if you were true

There's no damn way that you

Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

With every encounter you had with the two; either shared classes, mealtimes, hallways, etc. Your mixed emotions grew. Seeing them together was a constant slap in the face. Such as Potions class. They were partners, Anna always making goo-goo eyes at Mattheo and doing anything to get close to him. It made you sick, you wanted to throw up. Thankfully your Potions partner and fellow Ravenclaw, Hugo Andrews, could see how it was effecting you. He was sweet, doing everything to distract you, getting you to focus on the potion Snape had you brewing.

But every now and then you would hear Anna’s stupid laugh. And you would wince, another hit to your crumbling resolve. When you would sneak a look, you would see Mattheo close to her, playing around and looking happy, almost in love. That was it. You turned away, focused on the potion and told yourself it was done.

Ain't it funny

All the twisted games

All the questions you used to avoid?

Ain't it funny?

Remember I brought her up

And you told me I was paranoid

Over time, as much as you pushed Mattheo from your mind, everything would resurface. Even more so when people would talk to you, either fishing for gossip or genuinely confused to what happened. And at random times you would go over everything in your head, trying to work out what happened.

But then one night, while laying awake in bed, you once again began to mull it all over. It was funny that over the three months of his new friendship you started out with subtle questions, before them getting more blunt. He would either tip toe around them, give short vague answers, or plain out tell you that you were over thinking it all. Yet part of you knew something hadn’t been right. And them getting together confirmed that.

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

(Ah-ah-ah)

Saturday afternoon was a lazy one. You had taken to going for a walk, to clear your head and escape from the castle of gossip and your ex. The fresh air was nice, it was still cold but it was mid February. Which meant winter was almost over, and spring (your favourite season) was coming. Looking around the grounds, which still had some white covering it, green patches here and there. You couldn’t wait for the grass to be a vibrant green, and wild flowers to cover patches of the land.

You could already picture laying in the wild flowers, warm sun beaming down on you. You’d pick dandelions and blow the white sprouts from the stem, watching the wind carry off the seeds. But then you remembered how you would do that with Mattheo. How you would lounge together in the flowers, soaking up the sun. You would talk about school or random things while watching the sky. The sweet moments you both shared sent your heart aching.

The peace and quiet didn’t last, as you heard the faint crunch of snow under feet. Upon turning around you found the person you were just thinking about. You felt a rush of anger, how dare he walk where you usually went. How dare he have done many things to you, or to hurt you. Glaring at the approaching figure, you wanted him to know he was unwelcome. Hoping he would see your state, turn around & scurry off back to the dungeons of the castle, never to be seen again. But nope, you were wrong.

Mattheo had seen you leave the castle, he had watched you leave the front doors of the school, walk around the side of the building, past the turn off for the Quidditch area and down the familiar path you’d both taken. He knew you wanted to be alone, but he had to talk to you. Yes, he wasn’t stupid, he’d seen your reaction to everything that had been going on since your break up. He had even heard the gossip students were saying, majority of it being all lies. Part of him felt bad, responsible for your state.

The glare on your face told him he wasn’t welcome, but he wouldn’t back down. Sporting a blank face, Mattheo stared at you. “Y/N” he said with a nod of his head. “How are you?”

That was it. Hearing those words pass Mattheo Riddles lips opened up the floodgate of your emotions and thoughts. He would regret those words after you’re done with him. Your nostrils flared as you took in a sharp breath.

“You want to know how I am?” You asked a little too calmly, to which he nodded his head. “Well I don’t know. Maybe I am upset, maybe I am angry. Maybe I am confused. Or maybe I am all that and more Riddle” you spat out his surname.

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought you would be like this. He thought you would say you were sad and angry, you’d both talk it out and you’d both move on. He didn’t expect you would be furious, possibly wanting his blood. As the saying goes: Hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.

When she's sleeping in the bed we made

Don't you dare forget about the way

“Do you expect me to be fine? Happy for your new relationship?” You asked, spitting out the word relationship. “Do you expect me to act like the time we were together meant nothing? Like it never happened? I can’t, because it meant something to me...”

Mattheo moved from foot to foot, his calm and uncaring image starting to slip. “Y/N, I’m sorry you feel like this” he started, and you scoffed rolling your eyes. “I genuinely didn’t know you were taking it this hard-“

“Seriously!? Everyone with functioning eyes can see how I have been” you cut him off. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot if it doesn’t involve you, it wasn’t important”.

His eyes darker and focused on you. “No, that is not true”.

“Huh, it is. Its always about you. After all you got to know your knew girlfriend before ending it with me, and jumped into a relationship with her not long after we ended. Hence why it’s all about you, or else you’d have considered me and my feelings before doing what you did”.

Mattheo was silent for a moment, trying to keep calm. “I did think about you...I ended it because we ran our course. I didn’t want to string you along”.

You laughed bitterly. “Sure, tell yourself what you have to Riddle. You betrayed me. 'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry, for the way I hurt, yeah?” it was a rhetorical question. “You'd talk to her, when we were together. You gave me your word, but that didn't matter”.

“That’s not fair” Mattheo argued, but you weren’t having it.

“It took you two weeks, to go off and date her. Guess you didn't cheat. But you're still... you're still a traitor” you said it all in a rush, letting everything you’d been holding back out. “Yeah, you're still a traitor!”

Getting the words and feelings out released a weight you’d been carrying around. He needed to see how hurt you were, how furious you were, how frantic you were. Mattheo needed to know he had broken you, but now you were going to build yourself back up. You were done with him, done with how you felt.

Mattheo stood there like a deer in headlights. He hadn’t expected you to say what you said, or really unload all you had. Nor did he blame you. He deserved what he got. He figured you would be hurt but not to this extent. Mattheo Riddle had hurt you deeply, and now you were done with him for good. And he didn’t like that. If only he hadn’t had to do what he did. If only it could have been different.

Ooh-ooh-ooh

Seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything you decided it was time to leave. Turning from the boy before you, you didn’t bother to look at him. Or else you’d have seen the hurt in his eyes, along with unshed tears. Or how his shoulders slumped, or how weak he was right then.

After taking a few steps you stopped, but not looking back you said; “God, I wish that you had thought this through...before I went and fell in love with you”.

With those final words, the final goodbye, you left Mattheo alone. He watched your retreating form, with each step his heart cracking. And then when you were gone from sight, his heart shattered. For he had not wanted to break up with you, he didn’t want to jump into a relationship with Anna, he didn’t want to hurt you, and he didn’t want you to walk away from him for good.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this to you Y/N/N...” Mattheo said softly to the silence around him. “But if I didn’t, he would have hurt you. And I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t let you get hurt”. The tears in his eyes slowly fell. “It hurts to have you hate me...but if it saves you from my father, I will carry this pain...”

A/N: hope you enjoyed. & part 2 will be up soon 🙂

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #Spotify

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justanamesstuff · 3 months

Text

Chapter 4

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: SURPRISE!! Idk what got into me today but i finally edited this!! I hope you like it...sorry for the delay :)♥

Warnings: ANGST, also fluffy feelings hehe, typos.

Word count: 4,9 K

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

< Chapter 3

LA, USA

After the chat with Y/n, Matty was even more restless. Something woke up that night, some kind of strange feeling. Anger? Happiness? He wasn’t sure even though it kept him awake for the rest of the nights after. Matty couldn’t put a name to the sensation driving him insane day by day. The knife in the middle of his chest kept him company during Christmas dinner watching Y/n actively enjoy the holidays with the boys and Matty’s parents.

His mind was constantly thinking about the night he met Y/n and the car ride. Why did he tell her those stupid things? Why? What’s the point? Did he make her uncomfortable? Yes, he noticed. He was so stupid.

The purpose of that night was to talk about the problem –even when he still didn't know if they had. No, he had to go and tell Y/n that a relationship with her would be amazing. Which he was convinced of, but still. First thing first, he had a girlfriend. Why suddenly it was so hard to remember that? Secondly, Y/n was his best friend. Those sayings and feelings belong in the past, when he was so in love with her. He got over those, right?

Matty felt exhausted. He only talked about this with himself. Who could he trust this? George? He loved G, although Matty couldn’t risk his friend telling Y/n about it. G had all of his trust, but his heart was deeply scared driving him to choose to keep the secret to himself only.

Matty couldn’t even think about the possibility of her knowing. The singer believed that Y/n would be so shocked and horrified. Then, who? Ross? Adam? Maybe. How do you bring a topic like this up without making a fool of yourself? Well, he was already one.

Matty returned to LA. Work demanded a lot of him: his strength, attention, and so much more. On top of that, he was in a relationship. Why was it so hard to remember that? Well, no, he didn’t forget. Only his full attention was elsewhere and Nadia wasn’t stupid. She noticed.

At first, she thought work was the cause, but her sixth sense told her something else was happening. Something else was troubling her boyfriend. Why did Matty go from being so thoughtful to be slightly distant and cold? Was she being clingy? They came from a pandemic, a lockdown, from living every single day and –almost– hour of the day together; to being kilometres apart. It was reasonable. Or she wanted to convince herself that it was normal. Especially when she was arriving in LA to visit him that week. That was going to help.

Matty tried his best to pass his free time with Nadia those days. He had to redeem her for his behaviour. He loved Nadia.

———————————————————————————————————–

January, Ireland.

For most people, the end of the holiday season was a bummer. Y/n agreed it was kind of sad, because it is a season full of colours and happiness, on the other hand starting a new year comes with a feeling of fresh start.

After the conversation with Matty, Y/n was adamant to keep moving forward and left the clouds full of dark feelings away, in the past year. Or she was really trying to. Sometimes, Matty was a pandora box for her, one she really wanted to understand and crack open. She couldn’t understand the boy, his motivation to say this or that. Maybe Y/n was overthinking and he was only joking. But what if…? She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the “what if’s”. What if she let him kiss her that night?

Her belly flopped with the solo thought of it. What if she never accepted his offer to drink with the whole gang? What if…? What if he had feelings for her? No, that couldn’t be right. Apart from that night, Matty never gave her any sign to think otherwise. Or maybe she didn’t notice? No. She had to stop. She couldn’t think about him like that.

The “what if’s” had to stop. The distance will help, although Matty made her promise to not disappear again. And that was another challenge for Y/n because she succeeded when she was away from him without contact, but now would be different. Yeah, she agreed it wasn’t a good solution. It did work for a month but the moment Y/n saw Matty…everything collapsed. Didn’t matter, she must keep the promise to herself.

Not everything in her life was awful.

Y/n returned to the place that brought so much peace to her life right at the moment. Which was kind of funny because she got stressed from work a lot, but it also made her very happy. Y/n returned to Ireland after that hectic, torrid couple of weeks. As soon as she dropped her bag, Lily updated her about the party and the whole staff shenanigans, also about Tom. She even teased Y/n about him.

Y/n had to talk with Tom about the date, arrange the details.

A couple of days went by since she arrived and Y/n still didn’t say a word, neither did Tom. He was waiting. He didn’t want Y/n to think he was a creep or something. Y/n had other reasons.

At the same time, Tom was a wonderful human being, very handsome. Those blue eyes drove her crazy in the best way possible. She had to find a person she fancied, someone who wanted her as well. Well, Tom was definitely the boy. Not because she was that confident, just because he let her know and Lily kept saying that she believed it.

Thing is, she was still heartbroken. Y/n’s heart was broken. She was sure that Tom would never do something to hurt her on purpose, but the heart was never rational and when it got hurt it was difficult to make it trust again. So, yeah, Y/n had a dilemma between her hands. She needed a little time.

“What are you overthinking now?” a sleepy Lily entered the kitchen, where Y/n was making a cup of tea and scrolling through Instagram at the same thing.

“Good afternoon to you too.” Y/n joked.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lily waved her hand around, trying to shut up her friend. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Nothing really, Instagram.” Y/n informed her, refreshing the page.

“What a boring day. I hate Sundays.” Lily stated, sitting at the kitchen table.

“Yeah.” Y/n said without really paying attention.

“Could you make me a cup too? Please.” Lily said in a sweet voice. Y/n looked at her, letting her phone fall on the table.

“Yeah, of course.”

Lily took Y/n’s phone and refreshed the page once more. How boring the internet became with the pandemic, ha?

While Y/n finished pouring the drink, she heard Lily gasping a little too loud. Which startled Y/n.

“What?” she turned around.

“You don’t want to watch this.” Lily warned her.

“I do now.” Y/n tried to reach for her phone but Lily pushed it further away.

“Y/n! No.”

“Lilly-Rose!” Y/n said, giving her friend an angry look, warning her. “Give me my phone.”

“Fine but, for the record, I warned you.”

Y/n took the phone with her heart beating in her ears. When the pictures reached her eyes, all the blood on her head fell towards her feet. She took a seat beside Lily.

Matty uploaded a picture of Nadia, with a subtle but loving caption. It was the first picture he posted of her ever. The likes were blowing as well as the comments. She kept scrolling and a picture of Matty in the same place appeared. Yeah, she followed Nadia on Instagram. Y/n left the phone on the table slowly. Then, she looked up at Lily, who had been staring at her waiting for a reaction.

“What?”

“Y/n…”

“What?”

“I- You- “

“No, I don’t care.” Y/n tried to state firmly but her voice broke a little at the end..

“Y/n.” her friend insisted.

“Lily, stop, I don’t care. He is my friend. He has a girlfriend, a so pretty one…fuck me!”

“You’re prettier.” Lily told her, which made Y/n laugh.

“Thanks for cheerleading me, L. I feel fifteen all over again.” she tried to joke.

“Y/n, I mean it.”

“Thanks, but- It doesn’t matter. He wants her, he is with her. And I don’t want him… like that any more.” she started passing around the kitchen.

Silence took a place between them. Y/n was deep in her inner battle, and Lily was pitying her a little. Y/n was more than her PA by now, she was her friend and Lily could tell Y/n was hurt. Yes, she was making such a good job coping with such difficult feelings but in the end, she was wounded.

“I don’t care.” Y/n stated out of the blue, more for herself than for anyone else.

“Keep repeating that… maybe next week you’ll convince your head.”

Y/n huffed. “That doesn’t help.”

“It doesn’t help that you avoid what you’re feeling, Y/n.”

“I’m no- “

“Don’t lie. Y/n, I fucking know it hurts to see them…”

Lily let her hand fall on Y/ns’s back, caressing her with affection. “Yes, it does. Fuck!”

“It’ll pass.”

“I’m trying so fucking hard, I’m exhausted.”

“Then stop trying.”

“What?!” Y/n looked at her dead in the eyes.

“I’m saying, stop trying. Maybe you’re trying too hard, maybe you have to let the universe decide.” Lily stopped, expecting a reaction getting nothing, so she continued. “What I’m trying to say is…don’t cover your feelings, you’re hurt right now, fine, well no, you get it. And then keep living your life, you have a lot of work to do- “

“Thanks for reminding me.” they chuckled.

“You have work and let me also remind you…you have a perfect boy waiting for the tiniest signal to let him know that you want to start something” Lily stated.

“I’m scared.” Y/n admitted.

“I know babe.” Lily’s face softened.

“I don’t want to waste Tom’s time”

“Shut up, he’s a grown-up. If he decides that he doesn’t want to build something with you, then he has the choice to leave. Same as you.”

“And that’s the scariest part.”

“Agh! I fucking know, okay? Just let yourself live a little. He is not going to hurt you like Matty, I’m 100% sure.”

“We don’t know that.” Y/n stared at her phone, replaying the pictures of Nadia and him.

“We won’t know if you never try.”

“I don’t want to know if he is going to hurt me.”

“Y/n, could you stop worrying that much? You haven't had a single date. Oh god, you’re perfect for the industry…do you know?” Lily said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously. Give him the chance.”

“I- “

“Let me ask you a question, okay?”

“Yeah…”

“Forget about Matty and everything, just listen.” Lily told her, and Y/n obeyed. “Do you Y/n Y/L/N want to start something with Tom Blyth?” she asked. “No! No…don’t rush it!” Lily stopped Y/n when she saw her opening her mouth to speak. “Really think about it, and then give me the answer.”

Y/n took 2 minutes to do so. “This is stupid.” she shook her head.

“You’re stupid.” Lily teased her.

“Hey!”

“Well, the answer?”

“You know the answer!”

“Do I?”

“Yes.” Y/n answer barely out loud.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?” Lily grinded big.

“Yes, I want to go out with him.”

“Well, the question was to start a beautiful story of love and live forever happily, although… I think your answer is good.”

“You are an idiot.” Y/n laughed, moving closer to her friend, sharing a hug.

…………………………………………………………

Y/n was a morning kind of person. She liked to wake up before everybody. The world is quiet when you wake up early. The world around you, your world. She loved the feeling.

Even though she hated Monday mornings. They were hectic and chaotic. More if you have to get ready quickly to leave for the set, for work. This particular morning was different.

Y/n was excited and nervous too. She was excited to see Tom, and nervous because she was going to ask him about the date. She didn’t let herself worry if he was going to say yes or no or whatever. Y/n had to try. She had to move forward in her life. She owned it to herself.

By midday, Y/n was getting angrier and less nervous or. It was like the universe tried to say: wait a little bit, it’s not the moment. She was frustrated.

Lily and Y/n arrived at the set pretty early, they followed the schedule as planned. The girls bump into Tom at the makeup trailer where she had a moment with him alone, but someone called him. Y/n politely smiled and said nothing. Then, she tried between some breaks, but the rest of the cast were around so popping the question was almost impossible. She wanted to ask him so badly by midday.

After lunch, Y/n had a moment in Lily’s trailer to do some work. She knew moving papers and huffing between every two seconds was a very childish manner but the girl was frustrated. Y/n stood up, leaving all the paperwork aside ready to leave the trailer when the door opened. A worried Tom came inside through the open door. Y/n stopped in her tracks.

“This is the only way we’re going to be able to talk? In Lily’s trailer?” Tom asked nicely, teasing her, showing Y/n a warm smile.

“I was going to search for you right now.”

“Oh.” Tom said. His smile disappeared from his face. “Something happened?” he asked politely.

“Yes- No- I mean…” Y/n started. Tom waited for her to continue. “I’m sorry, I was trying to talk to you for most of the day and…”

“And something keeps getting in the way.”

“Exactly, did you notice, ha?” Y/n inquired, looking at him. Fuck, he is so handsome.

“Yeah, I- I first thought that you were angry at me…”

“What? No, no…it’s- no-”

“I know.”

“Can we start again? As if we just see each other today?” Y/n said laughing.

“Seriously?” Y/n nodded. “Okay, just let me- “ Tom got off the trailer, and seconds after he came back. “Hi, Y/n, how are you?” the actor tried as hard as he could keeping his laugh under control.

“Hi, Tom!” Y/n replied smiling. “I’m good, you?”

“Yeah, good! Now that I’m talking to you.” he said, making Y/n blushed.

“Oh, sweet.” she didn’t know what else to say. She had to ask him. “Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” she simply said, and getting off a weight from her shoulders. “I mean, you asked me weeks ago, but- If you don’t it’s okay…”

“Yes!” he interrupted her. “Do you want to go today? I think we’re going to end pretty early so…”

“Yeah, that would be great!”

“Amazing! That’s all you were going to tell me? You’re not angry right? Just checking.” Tom asked.

“Yes, that was all. I’m not- I wasn’t angry at you, I was frustrated that we couldn’t talk.”

“Mm okay, glad we did. See you after the last scene?”

“Are we heading right after? I wanted to change clothes. I’m looking like a mess…”

“You always look beautiful, Y/n.” Tom admitted.

“You’re too kind.” Y/n replied shyly.

“Not really.” they chuckled. “I mean it though.”

“Okay.” Y/n nodded, blushing.

“Okay.”

“See you in a couple of hours.”

“See you.”

Tom left the trailer, leaving a very happy Y/n. A very content with herself Y/n. This was one more step in the right direction. She was excited.

………………………………………………

Lily was waiting for Y/n’s return from the date. They left at 5 pm and until that moment Y/n had been gone for 5, almost 6 hours. Which indicated the date was going perfectly? Yeah, she was sure of that. Y/n and Tom were meant to be, they would make a cute couple.

Lily almost jumped from the couch when she heard the front door unlocked. A delighted Y/n came into the living room.

“Hi.” Y/n said, breathlessly.

“Spill the tea, queen!”

“What are you doing awake? Don’t you have lines to memorise?”

“I already did. Now talk.” Lily bounced on her seat.

“What?” Y/n sat beside her friend.

“Y/n, drop it!” Lily warned her.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Y/n apologised. “What do you want to know?”

“Mm everything?!” Lily exclaimed. She laughed about Lily’s reaction.

“We went to a beautiful café downtown. We talked about everything and nothing, we thought that the place was amazing…I mean, they had books everywhere- “

“Please, don’t tell me you only read.” Lily pledged.

“Course not! As I was saying the place was amazing- “

“Yeah, yeah, don’t care about that. Did you kiss?” Lily inquired, Y/n blushed.

“We talked a lot, you know him. He’s so sweet and caring. We chat about everything you could think about…”

“Amazing, I’m so happy. Did you kiss?”

“Omg, Lily, didn’t you want to know about everything?”

“Yes, everything means…did you kiss?”

“We ended up leaving the café because Tom told me about this park really close by, and we went there. The talk continued forever while we stroll by- “ Y/n ignored Lily’s ask once more.

“You’re totally doing this on purpose.” Y/n’s friend folded her arms together in annoyance.

“We strolled by the park and when we realised the hour, Tom offered to walk me here. So, we did.” she made a little pause. “He left after we kissed.” Y/n smiled wide with the last part.

“What?!” Lily screamed, looking astonished at Y/n.

“Didn’t you want to know that?”

“Omg, is he a good kisser? How do you feel? THIS IS AMAZING!” Lily continued, excited, making Y/n smile even more.

“He is. I’m feeling on cloud nine” Y/n admitted. “I don’t remember when was the last time I felt like this.”

“This is so cute. See? I told you!”

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously. I want to be your maid of honour, okay?”

“And I’m the one that exaggerates?” Y/n teased her.

“I’m so happy for you, babe! You deserve someone like Tom.”

“I’m so happy too!”

“So, are you going to see him again?”

“He did ask me on another date, we planned to have a picnic at the park we went today…he said that it’s prettier with daylight.”

“Aww, cute. I love the idea.”

“Me too, I…I can’t believe this.” Y/n pushed herself back on the couch, hiding her face behind her hands.

“Believe it my friend! YOU DESERVE IT Y/N Y/L/N!!” Lily accentuated every word.

“I know.” y/n agreed. Finally feeling happy. .

———————————————————————————————————

A month later…

After a couple of days, weeks really, with his friend, Adam could easily tell that Matty was stressed about something. The guitarist attached it to the mental requirement Matty was under with the album.

Adam reached a point where he subtly tried to convince Matty to rest so many times but the frontman was beating himself up working out almost constantly as long as working. When he wasn’t at the studio, he was at the gym the Airbnb had and when he wasn’t there he was writing new songs.

A bunch of nights, Adam found Matty at the kitchen table balancing his attention between his guitar, a very worn out notebook and a cup of wine or whiskey.

Adam wasn’t stupid, he could figure something was happening really. For the longest he attached it to the long months in lockdown, some kind of post trauma symptom. That hypothesis left his mind after only one week of keeping his attention closer to his friend.

They fought a bunch of times. George and Ross tried to interfere, but the boys explained that it was something between them, and only them. Adam started to think that maybe it was more about Tom vs Tom himself. Again, he was worried.

Weeks kept passing by and Adam got nothing out of Matty, which got him fed up with the situation. He didn’t want to push the singer too much, but Matty had to stop that behaviour. It wasn’t healthy.

“Fine, I’m going to work out for a little.” Matty said, seconds after they entered the rented house after a very long day at the studio. They were left alone when the guys decided to stay behind for a few more hours working on other projects.

“Matty.” Adam said in a warning tone.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Matty spat at him.

“Actually, yes, I have.” Adam stared at him with bored eyes.

“Oh, really?” Matty opened his posture, coming closer to where his friend stood closer to the front door.

“You know what I think. I know- “ Adam tried to maintain the calm, something difficult after weeks of the same shit.

“You know nothing.” Matty Interrupted his bandmate, in a bitter tone.

“Then, explain it to me, talk to me. Fuckin’ tell me what keeps you like this, mate!” Adam shouted, losing his cool a little.

Matty studied his red face after saying, “Fuck off, Adam.”

The singer turned around, heading to the gym. Adam followed him. “No, thank you. Matty- “

“Which part of fuck off, leave me alone… you don’t understand dickhead?”

“Matty, I don’t give a fuck about your swearing. I’m done with this childish behaviour. You can’t beat yourself just for work.” Adam tried to reason with his best friend, who scoffed at the comments. Matty started working out, hoping that Adam leaves him with his thoughts.

“You know nothing- “

“Give me one reason to let you continue with this-” Adam moved his hands in the air, trying to find a word to Matty’s behaviour. He couldn’t. “Well, whatever you’re dealing with.” he ended up placing his hands on both sides of his hips, which reminded him when their mothers scolded them.

“I- I’m- No, there’s nothing. Adam, please.” Matty tried to persuade him.

“Agh!” Adam covered his face in annoyance. “I know that working after a lot of time off triggers you, more so now with the pandemic which made our routine all different. Still, you can’t continue like this. I’ve been here for two or three weeks and it’s insane, you’re stressing yourself beyond any human toleration.” Adam passed around the gym, meanwhile Matty sat on the floor, watching him rant. “This is insane.”

“Have you finished?” Matty asked cockily.

“Yes, I think- Yeah.” Adam answered, gazing down at Matty.

“Thanks. Now you can leave.”

“What? Are you serious?” Adam almost screamed.

“Yes.”

“You’re a fucking child sometimes. Do I have to call Denise?”

“What? No, why?” Matty avoided his stunned gaze.

“You- Ah- I- Didn’t you listen to me?” Adam asked, almost speechless.

“Yes”

“Then?”

“I thank you. I don’t want to fight any more. Please, please, leave me the fuck alone.”

“Fine! You don’t leave me another option.” Adam turned around, going through the door. A little idea crept into his mind. “I’ll call Y/n- “

“No!” Matty ran quicker than ever before in his short life after his friend. “No, no!” he started to repeat, but Adam was gone.

Matty reached the living room just seconds after Adam took the phone out from his pocket.

“Oh, yes.” Adam said, unlocking it.

“Hann, no- stop…STOP!” Matty whined. The tone of his voice made the guitarist stop.

“What?” he asked, intrigued now.

“Don’t call Y/n. I- I’ll- “ Adam was surprised to watch Matty so desperately, trying to speak clearly, failing miserably.

“You will…?”

“No, fuck.”

“Fine, I’m calling her.” Adam continued, searching for Y/n’s contact.

“NO! Hann!” Matty started to scream “I’ll talk with you! Okay?! I promise!”

“Really? That's all I had to do? Threaten you to call Y/n?” Adam inquired.

“Yes- I mean, no- Could you put your phone aside?” the singer asked nicely, a request that Hann obeyed. “Fine, sit.” he obeyed again. “I’m dealing with something, well, not something. I don’t even know how to name it…” Matty started to walk around the couch in circles.

“Then what?” Adam shyly asked. He didn’t want to interrupt too much, in fear of Matty’s reaction.

“It’s not about work.”

“Then what?”

“Are you going to repeat that over and over again?”

“Well, no, if you say something that makes sense.”

“Fine. Where to start?” Matty set his sight far from Adam, thinking. “Do you know that Y/n was angry with me the last time I went home?”

“Mm no. She seemed pretty happy when I saw her.” Hann admitted.

“Well, she got angry. She didn’t really tell me why, I got angry at her because she started to ignore me. The next day we talk, but we don’t actually talk- “

Adam pushed forward, waiting for the worst scenario. “Wait, you don’t talk? Then what did you do?”

“No, not that! For God’s sake, mate!” Matty pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Okay, go on.”

“Well, we talked and everything is fine…and not at the same time.” Matty ran his hands through his hair, anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Adam felt very lost.

“That’s what I don’t know…I said a bunch of stupid things, that I still believe and made me feel some- something…”

“What thing?”

“Feelings I thought were gone.”

“Like which ones?”

“You know which- “

“No, I don’t.”

“Hann.”

“Matty…”

“I had a crush on Y/n when we met her.”

“Only that night?” Hann’s voice was full of sarcasm.

“That’s it.” Matty exclaimed, turning around ready to leave.

Adam stood in the middle of Matty’s way. “No, no.” Adam tried to stop him. “I’m not, I just- Please, keep going, mate.”

Matty took a step back, “Okay, yes, I had a crush on her that night and after that…for a while. But- “

Adam waited patiently.

“But she is my best friend”

“And?”

“She is amazing”

“She is. And?”

“And?”

“And what is the problem with that?”

“She’s not the problem. She never was. I’m the problem. Fuck.” Matty expressed passing again. “The thing is- I have- I had those feelings, which I got over them. Although, now after that talk- “

“What did you say that night?”

“I told her I think that if something happened between us it would be…I think that it would be amazing.” Matty watched as Hann's face changed completely..

“Wait a minute, you said what? You have a girlfriend!”

“Do you think I forgot? Fuck this a mess, or am I overreacting?”

“This is a mess. Let me get this straight. You had feelings for her.” Adam waited for Matty’s nod to continue. “You got over those, or you thought that- “

“I got over those.”

“Aha…” Hann was suspicious that it was true.

Matty noticed the doubt in his friend’s voice. “Not helping!” he warned him.

“Fine. You got over those. You hooked up with every woman possible…” the guitarist remembered, making Matty scoff. “I’m not judging you, I’m just saying.” They laughed. “After that, you started something with Nadia. Everything seems fine till Y/n gets angry?”

“This sounds so stupid. Did I mature?”

“I mean…” Adam teased him.

“Okay, but no- Y/n’s my best friend. This is stupid, I’m stressed…”

“Mate, you are in love with Y/n since the first moment you watched her at the pub” Adam didn’t hesitate to say.

“What? No, I was- “

“You- “

“No, see? That’s why I didn’t want to talk to anyone. You don’t understand- “

“Do you understand what’s happening?” Hann crooked an eyebrow.

“Yes- No- But, I’m not.”

“You have to face it.”

“Fuck you, mate. I’m with Nadia.”

“That’s what made it a little more difficult.”

“You’re such a great advisor…” It was Matty’s time to be sarcastic. He knew it was wrong, he was taking his anger with Adam. He knew he had to talk and let the truth out, but it also meant risking his relationship with Y/n and Nadia as well. The solo thought made him feel sick.

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I get why you’re so troubled…you have to- “

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” Matty got defensive again.

“You can shout and swear all you want, but…the reality is one. Your feelings are for one only.”

“I don’t have feelings for Y/n, she is my best friend. I’m- I’m only scared that our relationship breaks or something, she sometimes distanced from me and I don’t want to lose what we have. And I neither want to lose Nadia, I love her- “

“Not in the way you love Y/n.” Adam remarked.

“No, she’s my girlfriend.”

“Your heart is elsewhere.”

“Why do you think you are right? You’re not by the way.” Matty started to walk away.

“Because I know I am…you just-“

“I know what I’m feeling!” he shouted without looking back.

“You said you don’t!”

“Well, I do now. Thank you, are you happy?” Matty dryly said.

“Not entirely, just a little.”

“I’m going to work out…as I wanted to do so.”

“Yes, go in peace, mate!” Adam chuckled, watching his friend behave worse than his own child. The frontman left without saying anything more.

.........................................................

Taglist: @hollybrislen @sinarainbows @eaglestar31 @sugarkane1001 @brittluvs1975

Chapter 5 >

#matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #matty x reader #matty x you #seasons

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twostepstyless · 1 year

Text

Love Locks

A Valentines Day story from the Not Just For Christmas series

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Authors Note: Harry is a hopeless romantic and Y/N isn't but let's him get swept up in the Valentine's Day festivities anyway because it makes him happy. This is the gift Harry got Y/N if you're curious! X

Word Count: 3k+

SFW

———

Paris on Valentine’s Day was, for lack of a better, a fucking nightmare. It was disgustingly busy as loved up couples were hanging off of each other at every turn. What was Y/N’s nightmare, however, was Harry’s dream come true. Harry Styles would be the first to admit he’s a hopeless romantic. He indulges in a romantic comedy film at least once a week, he has playlist after playlist containing endless love songs, and as January comes to a close and February eases in, he thrives on everything in the shops turning red and pink as he buys into all the novelty, heart-shaped rubbish they have to offer as the most important day of February creeps closer. Well, second most important day, after his own birthday of course. Valentine’s Day had become one of Harry’s favourite days, especially in recent years and his love for the day of love has only grown as he and Y/N celebrated their sixth one together this year. So yes, he’s a hopeless romantic. Love songs, movies, heart-shaped chocolates and all and is there anything more fitting for a hopeless romantic than whisking the love of his life off to the city of love to spend his favourite day?

-----

Vincent had his lunchbox and stuffed bunny packed and was off on a two-night sleepover at his day-care and boarders, ‘Barkingham Palace’ and Harry had swept Y/N off to the airport soon after they had bid goodbye to the happy golden retriever.

Now it wasn’t as if Y/N hated Valentine’s Day, she was fine with it, it was lovely but she didn’t need all the flounce and showmanship that came with the day. But Harry loved it, and she’d let him do whatever he pleased to mark the special day to see the smile and permanent pink blush that seemed to stain his face on days like today.

He had started their day in Paris by waking her gently. Crawling under the swathes of blankets that buried her in the hotel bed, his nose skimming the surface of her neck and alongside her cheek as he pressed whispers of kisses into her sleep-warmed skin until her eyelashes began to flutter as she stirred from her sleep. She could feel the warmth of Harry’s body as he held himself above her as his kisses began to press heavier on her skin.

“Mmm, g’morning,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his mid-section, pulling him down, revelling in the weight of him against her, “why’re y’dressed already?” she questioned with a pout when she felt his fully clothed body.

“Good morning, m’valentine,” he smiled before gripping her chin and kissing her soft lips, trying his hardest to deepen it but Y/N stopped him by turning her head away with a giggle.

“Nuh-uh, morning breath, plus m’not your Valentine, you never even asked me. Now answer the question, why are you dressed?” she shuffled them round so they were lying on their sides facing one another.

“I’m dressed because I’ve already been out this morning,” his finger booped her nose when it scrunched in confusion, thinking she would have heard him slip out or he would have at least told her he was popping out. “As for the Valentine thing, I sort of assumed it came with the territory what with being together for near enough six years” he quirked an eyebrow with a smirk.

“I still like to be asked, thought you were meant to be the romantic one?” she cuddled into the warmth of his chest.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, good thing I popped out early this morning then, eh?” Harry pulled himself out of her embrace and swung his legs back out the bed to go get something as she whined about him getting out of bed, “hush up, m’coming back,” he called back, with a teasing lilt in his voice, from the living area of the suite they were staying in. Y/N wriggled herself up in bed so her back was against the headboard, hands resting atop the puffy, white duvet of the bed as Harry reappeared back in the doorway. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as a shy smile and giggle came from her when she saw the human embodiment of Prince Charming, with the twinkly eyes and showstopping smile to boot, crossing the threshold of the bedroom with a bouquet of the reddest roses you’ve ever seen paired with soft baby’s breath gypsophila and greenery, tied off with a silk satin ribbon in his right hand along with a card he was holding between his index finger and the bouquet. In his left hand was two boxes, one with branding she knew very well and another that was covered in plush velvet. “So, Miss Y/S/N, m’heart and soul and all that is good in my life,” Harry crooned as he approached the bed, sitting on the edge, “do me the honours and be my Valentine?” he asked as he handed her the bouquet.

Y/N eyes slipped shut as inhaled the perfume of the flowers before blinking them back open, “oh, I suppose so, I couldn’t take the heartache seeing your face if I said no,” she giggled before leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on the corner of his mouth. A light blush tinged his cheeks as the hand that still had the card in it, punched the air and he let out a quiet ‘yes!’ under his breath.

“For you, my love,” he handed over the card and the two boxes as he took the flowers from her and went over to place them in the vase of water he had set up on the sideboard while she slept this morning. Y/N opened the envelope to reveal a delightfully tacky Valentine’s card that described her as wonderful, and special, and lovely, and delightful in the curly font of the printed poem on the front. She opened the card to see Harry’s handwriting with a much more personal note inside, as he wrote about what she meant to him and how she was the perfect Mum to their dog and how he can’t wait for as many Valentine’s days together as she’ll give him.

“Christ,” Y/N croaked out, her voice thick with emotion as she fanned her glazed over eyes with the card, Harry whipped round from his flower arranging with a look of worry on his face, as Y/N waved her hand trying to insinuate that she was fine. “Y’should try this writing stuff out professionally, you’re quite good at it,” she joked, placing the card on the bedside table next to her.

“Yeah? I’ll think about it, pretty,” Harry smiled as he perched on the edge of the chest of drawers where the flowers now sat pretty in the middle. “Want to open your gifts?” he nodded towards the two boxes.

“Ladurée macarons? Y’know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Y/N opened the box pulling out a pink tinged treat, biting off half of the raspberry flavoured macaron before handing the other half off to Harry who chewed it down quick.

“Try m’best,” Harry shrugged, “got one left,” his eyes glanced to the velvet covered box by her leg, as Y/N picked up the box with a deep breath, “don’t shit yourself now, m’not proposing in Paris, I know I’m a romantic but I’m not that predictable,” Harry smirked, “jus’ something pretty for my pretty.”

Y/N cracked the box open to see a golden bracelet fastened to the cushion of the box, with heart shaped precious stones in multi-colours fastened to the band of the bracelet. “Fuck off, Harry,” Y/N gasped, her fingers tracing the purple amethyst heart before running over the peridot stone next to it.

“That’s the one, right?” he asked, slightly unsure, she had mentioned the bracelet once in a passing comment when she it online, just a quick, ‘look how pretty this is’ while shoving her phone under his nose.

“Yeah, this is the one,” she breathed out, unable to tear her eyes away from the pretty jewellery.

“Thank Christ,” Harry laughed as she thrust her wrist and the box out towards him, silently demanding he fasten it on her. He stood at the edge of the bed as he pulled the bracelet from the box and wrapped it around her wrist, “like it, then?”

“Love it, too expensive though, H,” she chastised as the cool metal slinked against her skin.

“Eh, worth it,” he shrugged with a smile.

“You’re trying really hard to get your leg over, aren’t you?” Y/N giggled.

“Is it working?” he flirted, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N flopped the duvet that had been covering her open, “c’mere and find out,” and Harry didn’t have to ask twice before pouncing on top of her as she shrieked in laughter as his mouth attached to her neck. “I love you,” she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair as he peered into her eyes.

Harry’s smile burst across his face like the morning sunlight in the sky, crinkles appearing by his eyes, “and I love you” he said sincerely before sealing his lips over hers.

-----

With Y/N dressed and Harry redressed, Harry had her by the hand and was pulling on her hand through the streets of Paris, seemingly on a mission.

“Slow down, y’going to rip my arm out it’s socket and I don’t think that’s very romantic,” Y/N huffed out a breath trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Sorry, m’heart, jus’ want t’get there before it’s proper busy,” he slowed down slightly, not enough to make much of a difference. Y/N was grumbling, keeping her hand latched onto Harry’s as she dodged a couple who apparently just couldn’t wait and had to stop directly in front of her in order to suck the face off each other in the middle of the pavement.

“Get where?” she hurried after him before slamming into his back as he stopped dead at his destination with no pre-warning, “eh ow?” she complained, rubbing her forehead and then the back of Harry’s coat where her makeup had slightly transferred onto the fabric.

“Sorry, baby,” he tried not to laugh as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, you will be. Fuck, I feel like I’ve walked into a romcom or somethin’” Y/N looked around them, “there’s couples smooching everywhere,” some of them could definitely get in trouble for indecent exposure the way they were going at it on a busy street at 10:30 in the morning.

“Are you implying something?” Harry’s arms settled around her waist, pulling her close, his arms clasping at the base of her spine.

“Well, y’know I’ll never say no to a kiss,” she clapped her hands down on his shoulders and reached up on her tiptoes to press a series of kisses onto his lips. “Now, what did you bring me all the way to Paris for, hm?”

“For this,” he stood back and through his arm out, revealing a bridge that crossed the Seine.

“Y’brought me to Paris for a bridge?” Y/N gave him a look from the side of her eye, “I mean it’s a nice bridge, H…”

“Not just a bridge, it’s the bridge,” he laced their fingers together again as he began to walk them across the wooden slats that for a bridge had a remarkable amount of people, couples, lingering on it. “This is the Pont des Arts,” Harry said proudly.

“Oh, is this the padlock place thingy?” Y/N asked, and she now could see the beginnings of padlocks of various sizes, colours and shapes, locked onto the bridge.

“‘The padlock place thingy,’ really? Yeah, lovie, it’s where the Love Locks got popular,” Harry spoke, a dreamy sort of smile on his face as he looked at all the tokens of peoples love attached to the panels. As they said, he’s a hopeless romantic.

“You want to put one on, don’t you?” Y/N grinned, she knew him too well, he’s a sucker for this type of thing.

“Why else would I bring you to Paris?” he asked as if it was obvious.

“Alright then,” she sighed, “let’s pick a spot, yeah?” as Harry tugged her to one side of the bridge and began looking for a little space.

-----

“It’s a shame they get cut off by the city council after a little while,” Y/N spoke, watching Harry as he was crouched down reading the engravings on every lock he could see, every so often he’d go, ‘look baby, this one has been here since 2008!’ or ‘look they’ve put their baby’s name and birthday on it too, maybe we could come back and add another if we have a baby.’

“Humour me, yeah?” Harry stood back to his feet beside her and began shuffling through the tote bag he had on his shoulder before pulling out a bronze padlock and a sharpie from the depths of the bag.

“Yeah, sorry,” she looked at him as he took the cap off the sharpie and began writing, his tongue poking out the edge of his mouth in concentration, “what are y’writing on it?”

“Hm, hang on, I’ll show y’when m’done,” he mumbled before blowing on the wet ink, trying to dry it down before flipping the lock in his hand to write on the other side too.

“All these locks are corroding and destroying the bridges you know, years old architecture, not even just here, all over the world,” Y/N said as she watched a couple, clearly still young enough to be school students fasten a lock to the bridge, they’ve probably only been together a week, Y/N thought to herself, snapping her eyes away from them as they started a very awkward, wet, sloppy looking kiss.

“Baby, stop,” Harry whined.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, ours won’t do that, we’ve got a special lock,” Y/N giggled as Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “Do you know at some bridges; they are arresting and fining people for doing this?” Y/N piped up again without thinking.

“Oh my God, Y/N/N,” Harry capped the sharpie, tossing it back into his bag before looking up at her, “you’re like Valentine’s Day Satan, the grinch of love languages,” Harry chuckled pulling her under his arm as they faced the sea of locks.

“Sorry, my love, I’ll stop, know it’s important to you,” she squeezed his side before pointing out a gap on one of the railings, “how about right there?”

“That’s perfect, sweets,” Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he unlocked the padlock.

“Gonna show me what you wrote first?” she nudged him with her hip to remind him as he passed the lock into her free hand. There, in the nicest handwriting Harry could muster up given the size restraints and writing tool, read H.S and Y/N’s initials, with the date of the 1st of September 2017, the date they made it official, scrawled underneath. Y/N smiled up at Harry’s bashful looking face, the pink blush she loved so much tickling his cheeks again, as she flipped the lock over. On the back, in tiny writing, read ‘Vincent Styles, 15/6/20’ his birthday in the middle of June. Y/N pouted at their dog’s name as her thumb rubbed over the tiny paw print Harry had drawn on in the corner. “Our baby,” Y/N smiled.

“Had to include him, he’d somehow know if I didn’t and wouldn’t talk to me when we pick him up tomorrow,” Harry said as Y/N laughed at how true it was, he really was a Mummy’s boy of a dog. “Gonna help me lock it on, m’heart?” he asked as he crouched down in front of the railing, as Y/N nodded, bending down next to him. Together the hooked the latch round the railing and pressed it firmly into the lock, pulling the keys free.

Y/N hummed as she looked at it, as much as she wasn’t as big a romantic as Harry, there was something about seeing it locked on there for the foreseeable future that made her tummy feel fizzy. In a good way. It felt permanent, the couple knew they were forever, but it was nice seeing something physical that proves that.

“Knew I’d get you on side,” Harry laughed, nudging her, making her lose her balance as they remained crouched in front of the lock.

“Oh, fuck off, you got me, it’s a nice idea alright,” she rolled her eyes as Harry helped her back to standing by the hand. “What do we do now? Toss the keys in the water?” Y/N peered over the edge of the railing into the murky water of the Seine.

“I think that’s what your meant to do, but a fuck load of keys in a river doesn’t scream eco-friendly does it?” Harry asked, twirling the key ring around his finger.

“Want to just shove them in the bin? It’s a bit less romantic but I suppose still does the unsalvageable idea? That is unless you dump me and want to go metal detecting through landfill to get the lock off?” Y/N joked.

“I’m positive there’s more chance of you dumping me,” Harry said as he began walking over to the nearest rubbish bin with her hand still in his.

“How about none of us do any breaking up with the other? I don’t think I could co-parent Vince, he’d also hate it and would be packing his lunch bag and bunny to run away,” Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, Vinnie is dramatic like that,” he agreed.

“He’s your son, of course he is,” Y/N teased.

“Oi!” Harry looked at her in faux shock, “thank you for doing this with me,” he then said, almost shyly.

“I’ll do anything y’want with you, you know that. Plus, this was actually pretty nice. You’ve got me locked down forever now, Styles, literally,” she nodded towards the section of the bridge where their lock was tied on. Harry smiled down at her, a soft look in his eyes. “My hopeless romantic of a boyfriend, eh?” Y/N grinned back, before reaching up and combing some of his loose curls back.

“Keys in the bin, then?” Harry asked.

“Keys in the bin,” she confirmed as Harry slung the keys into the metal bin hearing them land in the bottom with a clang. The symbol of their everlasting love for each other and their dog now attached to the Pont des Arts forever. Or until the city council cuts it off in a month.

———

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