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russellsppttemplates · 8 days

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Christmas in Spain (Carlos Sainz)

First term is over so you go back home to spend Christmas with your family

Note: english is not my first language. Dad!driver always gets me fluffy (and let's pretend it's Christmas season for a bit - it was a bit tricky considering it's sunny and warm outside 😅)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

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Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"I hope you have fun holidays!", you waved to the kids as they got their backpacks and ran out the door, excited for the Christmas break.

Grades would be sent over e-mail and on the school platform and a parent-teacher meeting would happen in January, so for now all you had to do was tidy the classroom a bit so you wouldn't come back to a big mess.

"Do you need help?", one of the cleaning staff asked you as they pushed the cart along the corridor.

"No, I'm fine, thank you though! The classroom is not looking so bad - Mark thought it was funny to do the drawings I asked them to on the table, but I had him clean all of that out and I think we've finally won over that bug that was going around because the bin barely has any tissues!", you cheered like you had just won a championship.

"Just in time for them to go home and spend time with all the extended family and friends and catch some other bug, right?", the older lady joked and you laughed along.

"I tidied this the best I could so this one is hopefully quick for you to clean - thank you", you smiled as you grabbed your bags, making sure nothing important was left behind before leaving the room, "I hope your holidays are nice too, I'll see you in January!".

You got in the car and drove home, hoping to find a small chaos since Carlos said he would get everything ready for you to fly out to spend the holiday time with his family in Spain, volunteering to pick up the kids from school so he could get them ready to travel too.

"Mis amores, I'm home!", you gave them a quick shout before putting your things away in the office, having already packed them in separate bags so you could leave the backpack with the things you didn't need in the office and take only the things you needed already in the backpack you would fly with.

"Mama!", Clara was the first to greet you at the door, letting you pull her up so you could hug her, "I'm all dressed for the flight!", she smiled, twirling around in the tracksuit. Since the flight would arrive late, it would be best to have the kids dressed in comfortable clothes given that they would probably fall asleep and in the event that they would arrive at Carlos' parents already asleep, it wouldn't be too bad if they slept in them.

"I can see that, is papa getting the boys ready?", you kissed her cheek and walked up with her to the boys' bedroom.

Mateo was sitting in the play area, his fingers holding finger puppets while Carlos put Benjamín's sweater on, making you sit down with him.

"Why don't we show mama just how handsome you two look?", your husband said as he allowed him to go to the floor and join his brother in the cuddle you had him on.

"Mama! We're matching!", Benjamín said, leaving a splotchy kiss on your cheek and showing you the sweatshirt and sweatpants set all three kids had. When you spotted the Christmas themed Disney sets, you had to get them. While the boys had the dark blue version, Clara had the pine green one.

"You look really cute, guys! Are they comfy?", you wondered.

"Yes, feels nice, it's not itchy", Mateo offered and his siblings nodded before you pulled yourself up to your feet, Carlos helping you and landing you on his chest.

"Hello, beautiful", he greeted, kissing your lips after what felt like an eternity as he watched you and your kids. He would happily stare at the four of you forever, but a kiss was needed.

"Hey, amor", you spoke, "seems like you did just fine getting these three monkeys ready to go", you smiled.

"Don't be fooled by it - the boys were not happy they had to have a bath since they weren't going to bed yet, so there were some negotiations and some tantrums", Carlos chuckled.

"Mama, did you know we're flying tonight?", Clara asked, big brown eyes looking up at you as she pulled on your pants' leg.

"Yes, I did! We're going to see abuela and abuelo for Christmas!", you agreed, "which means I also have to go and put something comfortable on, pack what's left and then we can head out!", you clapped your hands.

Changing into an appropriate outfit, you put the last minute things in your luggage before heading down, Carlos already buckling the kids in their car seats while you fit the test of the carry-ons on the car boot.

Driving to the airport was a nice challenge since you wanted to keep the kids awake until you boarded the plane to make things easier and not change their sleep routine too much, meaning that you blasted every Bluey album you had, singing along loudly with the three children.

"Why can't I push the trolley?", Mateo asked as Carlos pushed the trolley with all the bags.

"Because it's to heavy for you, buddy - papa will do it and you hold my hands", you assured, stretching them out once your backpack was secured on, "Clara, stay close to papa, okay?", you warned.

It certainly wasn't the first time you were travelling all together - even though you didn't travel to races as much as you did when it was just you, the kids would often be in most of the European races and a few other ones outside of the continent too -, but your stress levels were still the usual.

"Relax, amor, I packed everything we needed, and if by chance something is missing, either my parents or my sisters will have it or we can go to the store and get it", Carlos tranquilized as you sat in the lounge, the kids happily eating some dry cereal from the bowl.

"I know, I think the school stress is still here somehow even though I've left everything ready and done with - I only have those reports to finish on monday", you sighed as your husband rubbed your shoulders.

"You don't have to worry, okay?", he assured, pulling you to rest on his chest until you got the flight call to board.

The flight itself was fine, the kids staying awake without making too much of a mess and entertaining themselves with their sticker books. As soon as you got to the car, though, everyone was out like a light before you left the airport parking zone.

"Welcome back!", Reyes was the first to greet you as Carlos' stopped the car

Putting his finger in front of lips so they wouldn't be too loud, Carlos spoke softly, "they fell asleep right away, if one of you could help us with them, please", he said as his father took Clara in his arms while you and your husband took each of the boys.

"I'll bring your luggage inside, dears", your moment in-law assured as you walked upstairs to the bedroom where the kids would sleep in.

Tucking the kids with some coos and shushes, you were able to come back to the kitchen and be met with some snacky bits Reyes prepared, "have something to eat and drink, I'm sure it will do you good", she smiled as you sat around the table, catching up for a bit before you retired to your respective bedrooms for the night.

"This year I decided I wanted to bake our own roscón", Reyes announced as she got the ingredients out of the cupboard, not missing the wide-eyed looks and scoff from her children and her husband, "why is it no one has faith in me to pull it off?", she reasoned.

"Mama - it's just, you've never done it", Ana reasoned as her siblings nodded.

"For you to be able to say you can do something, you have to do something you've never done before", the matriarch offered.

"I believe you can do it, abuela", Clara added, "mama always says that when we want to do something, we have to put our minds to it and work as much as we can for it!".

"See? At least someone thinks I can do it - you can be my sous-chef, cariño", she smiled at her granddaughter, "do you boys want to join us?".

"Abuelo said he has a new toy car that we can play with him and papa outside", Benjamín hugged her legs and Mateo followed and replied with "I know you'll do well, abuela".

"Off you go then - means I also get your mama all to myself because not only does she have a magic finger for baking - and I do need all the help I can get - and I won't have all of you stealing her from me", she giggled, tapping their noses and letting them go outside.

Reyes loved all her children the same, and her daughters were no exception to her love. When she found out her only son was enamoured by someone, she wanted to meet the young woman who had taken her boy's heart. Since then, you always felt included in their family activities and like you were her third daughter.

"How has school been?", she asked as you followed the recipe on the propped up iPad, measuring the ingredients and setting them apart.

"My little ones are finally able to do some independent work, they're confident enough to do it and that gives me more time to prepare different things to do with them - I've been really enjoying teaching this class", you smiled, helping Clara with the eggs to make sure no shells fell in the bowl.

"That's nice to hear - you know, Carlos used to worry a lot about you running yourself too much and overworking, especially now with three kids, so I can't hide the fact that I'm happy that it's becoming easier on you", Reyes stated.

"There are hard days - they will always be even if I work all day or no time at all -, but we've got a routine down with them, Carlos is spending as much time home as he can and so far, there hasn't so been much to worry about", you offered.

After kneading everyhting and waiting for the three hours the recipe recalled, you began decorating it.

"Abuela, does this one look good next to this one?", Clara wondered as she displayed the candied fruits on the dough.

"Yes, amor, it looks very delicious - we can only hope it will taste delicious as well!", Reyes kissed her cheek and mixed the sugar with water before sprinkling the mixture.

"Are we ready to start writing our letters?", Carlos Sr clapped his hands before joining the kids at the table, Mateo already holding the glue.

"Yes, we're ready, abuelo! Can you help me with my spelling, please?", Clara asked.

The boys were too young to write, so they chose to draw instead and your daughter still required some help.

"Tres Reyes Magos, my name is Clara Sainz, and this year I have been a good girl. I always did as I was told and I did really well in school too - Do you think that's good, abuelo?", your daughter wondered, wanting to know her grandfather's opinion on the start of her letter.

"That's good, cariño - now, you have to write to them what you'd like to get for a present", your father in-law praised, turning his attention back to the boys' letters, "have you two decided what you're going to ask for?".

"Yes! I want this game here", Mateo said as he showed his drawing.

"I really hope they'll bring me this book", Benjamín showed his best attempt of the cover his grandfather had seen you wrap the night before, smiling at the prospect.

"Let's hope they'll bring you those, then", the oldest Sainz in the room said.

"Are we going to watch the Cabalgata tomorrow?", Mateo asked, "I saw some photos from last year but I don't remember much from them", he admitted.

"Yes, if all goes well - we usually go every year, I don't see why we can't go and watch it again", Carlos Sr smiled.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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circle-with-me · 3 months

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it’s golden, like daylight

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Content warning/tags: fluff, lots of fluff, romance, brief mentions of smut, slight hurt w/comfort, noah being the sweetest bean.

Summary: It’s your three month anniversary with Noah, and he’s got a surprise for you.

Word Count: 4.3k

Tag list: @concretenoah @deathblacksmoke @tearfallpixie @cind6547 @malice-ov-mercy @meekahy @cookiesupplier @lacktoesandtoddlerants @midnight-eternals @jilliemiw86 @lyschko666 @lma1986 @somewhere-diamond

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A pair of long arms twist around your waist and pull you close. The warmth of his body radiates through yours and you sigh contentedly. This had become a semi-weekly occurrence. Over the last month or so, Noah had started sneaking in your bed — slipping under the covers and drawing your body to his. He’d bury his face into your hair or neck, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Occasionally it would turn into sleepy sex, his slow, deep thrusts into you from behind taking you apart piece by piece. Most of the time he was just there to be next to you. He told you that going to sleep and waking up (again) next to you set him on a good course for the day. The two of you hadn’t been together long, but he wasn’t afraid to admit that to you. You loved how vulnerable he was.

As you lie in his arms, you notice you don’t feel as rested as you normally do. You pry one eye open and it’s significantly darker in the room than it usually is for his visits. You glance at the clock and see the time — 11:58 pm.

As you turn your head to nuzzle into him, he places a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Mmm, a midnight visit. What’s the occasion?” He plants another kiss, then another. You feel him smiling against your skin.

“You don’t remember, bug?”

You rack your brain but you’re so sleepy nothing is coming to mind. Noah is apparently impatient as he squeezes you.

“C’mon baby..” he whines.

“I’m sorry, Noah. I’m so tired I can’t even think.. please tell me.”

Noah chuckles softly and nudges your cheek with his nose so you’ll look forward. You notice now that the clock says 11:59 pm.

“Let’s wait until midnight and see what happens.” He whispers.

The room falls silent — the only sounds are your breathing and the traffic outside. Noah traces light patterns against your tummy and you sink further into his chest reveling in the feeling. His face is half buried in your neck, his eyes peeking out to keep an eye out on the time with you. You look at him through the corner of your eyes and wonder how you got so lucky. There’s this beautiful boy in your bed, in your life. What he saw in you was a complete mystery but you prayed to whatever higher power would listen that you could keep him.

“Bug, you’re not watching.” He says with a soft smile. Your eyes shoot over to the clock just in time for it to flip over to 12:00am.

Noah squeezes you tight and whispers into your ear, “Happy three months, baby.”

The realization that he wanted to be here with you the second your anniversary settles in and you’re quickly overcome with emotions. Your eyes well up with tears as he peppers your face with kisses. Suddenly, you feel terrible because it didn’t occur to you that was what he was here for. You were afraid he thought you had forgotten. The tears start falling much faster and Noah is quick to notice.

“Y/n? Bug, what’s wrong?” He asks, pushing your hair out of your face.

You shake your head and bury your face into the pillow. The muffled sobs coming from you make Noah worry even more. He pushes up on his elbows and kisses your shoulder.

“Please tell me. Did I do something wrong?”

Your laughter confuses Noah, but it’s the most ridiculous question he could have asked.

You turn your head slightly to look at him. His hair falls in his eyes, soft and full of concern, as he gazes down upon you. Noah kisses your palm when you bring it to cup his face as his thumb brushes away your tears. He shifts down to you where his face is hovering over yours. No words are said, however his face silently pleads with you to tell him what is going on.

“You haven’t done a thing, baby. You’re perfect.” You sniffle. “I’m just upset because I don’t want you to think I forgot about our anniversary. I’m just tired. I wasn’t thinking and I…I’m sorry.” You cover your face with your hands, crying quietly. There’s no initial response from Noah and you’re sure you’ve screwed everything up.

“Baby..” He says through quiet laughter. He pulls at your hands so he can see your face but they won’t budge as you’re slightly embarrassed now. He huffs and you move one finger slightly, peeking out at him. He spots you immediately and grins. You quickly move your finger back to its original position.

“If you’re not going to let me see that beautiful face of yours then I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

You feel the bed shift as he swings his leg over your body, he pushes you flat on your back and cages in your hips with his legs. He attempts one more time to pry your hands off your face to no avail.

Noah chuckles. “Have it your way, then.”

His fingers sneak under your shirt and wiggle against the skin of your ribcage, causing your stomach to contract. You giggle and squirm underneath him but hold your hands tight to your face. He continues around to your back and down your sides trying his best to get you to move your hands but is unsuccessful.

You feel a presence close to your face but don’t dare to look. “Guess I'm going to have to take it up a notch.” He whispers in your ear, and kisses the lobe. You giggle, knowing what his plan was and that you were going to fail miserably. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let up until everything was fixed.

Noah focuses his hands on your stomach, tickling and your hands instantly fly to his to push them away. Your laughter and his fills the room. He grabs your hands and gently places them above your head. He kisses your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips.

“I know you didn’t forget, bug. We just talked about it not long ago, remember?”

The memory of your conversation from the day before resurfaces in your mind. Originally he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to spend time with you on your actual anniversary due to band obligations but he surprised you and told you that he had rearranged some things to make it work. You were overjoyed and couldn’t wait to spend the day with him.

You wiggle your arms and Noah lets go of them. As you wrap them around him, you let out a breath.

“You’re right, thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Noah’s eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. The moonlight shining through the window casts against his face. No one has ever looked at you the way Noah has. He gazes at you as if you hung the moon. It’s almost like he is trying to memorize your face. It’s a look of devotion and admiration, and it gives you butterflies.

“I have the whole day off and it’s our anniversary.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly, his next words ghost against them in a whisper. “I want to make sure I spend every second with my best girl.”

Noah spent the rest of the night making love to you. He took his time, pulling climax after climax from you. He spoke soft praises in your ear about how good you were for him, how amazing you felt, and how you were made just for him. He finally let you fall asleep around sunrise, your head against his chest, both arms wrapped tightly around you.

Dishes clanking in the kitchen wake you from a deep sleep. You roll over to see the time: 10:00am. The joints in your legs and arms crack as you stretch and yawn. You put on a hoodie and a pair of shorts and walk towards the kitchen.

Noah hears your footsteps on the tile and whips around. He grins and opens his arms wide.

“There’s my sleepyhead!”

As grumpy as you are in the mornings, his smile is contagious. You all but run into his arms and he hugs you tightly. He nuzzles his head into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“I was about to come in there and wake you up.”

You laugh and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “I’m so sorry but someone kind of wore me out last night.”

Noah cocks an eyebrow and smirks. He leans down and places his lips close to yours but doesn’t let them touch.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night.” He breathes.

You nearly shiver at his words but manage to keep your composure.

“Who says I’m complaining now?”

He chuckles and slides along the counter, revealing a tray of food that was behind him. On the tray there was a plate of pancakes, a smaller plate with eggs and bacon, a small bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice. You stare at him in awe but notice his face drops a little as he looks at the tray.

“I actually wanted to wake you up so I could bring you breakfast in bed… but I guess I was too loud, huh?” Noah says, rubbing the back of his neck.

He looks so nervous like he has messed everything up. You silently curse yourself for not staying in bed longer and ruining his plans. You stand on your tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek.

“This is perfect, baby. Thank you so much.”

Noah’s eyes light up.

“You know, I can still bring it to you in bed. It won't be a surprise anymore but I’d still like to.”

You nod your head and giggle. Noah smacks your butt playfully as you turn around and head back towards your room.

A few moments later, Noah enters the room with the breakfast tray. He walks slowly towards your bed, careful not to spill anything. He sits the tray across your legs and climbs in next to you. You look down and notice something was different. A small vase with daisies had been placed in the corner. Your heart explodes in your chest. Could this man be any cuter?

You take Noah’s face in your hands and kiss him. “Thank you, Noah. This is so sweet.”

He rubs your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses you again. “Happy Anniversary, Y/N.”

To your pleasant surprise, Noah had much more than breakfast planned for your day. He took you to get your nails done, then to lunch at your favorite restaurant. Afterwards, you went to Pacific Park to ride the ferris wheel and walk on the beach. He even took you to buy a new dress and shoes for dinner, despite your protests.

As you walk to your front door he stops you and places a blindfold over your eyes. He leads you to your room and has you sit on the edge of your bed. He leaves the room for a moment, then reenters. You hear shuffling and something lands on the bed next to you. He removes your blindfold and you look around the room, noticing nothing different.

“Get dressed. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He leaves again before you can say a word. You slip into the red dress he bought you that cost more than you would ever pay, but as soon as he saw you in it he insisted on buying it for you. Or rather, as soon as he saw you in it he pushed you back into the dressing room and fucked you in front of the mirror so you could see how beautiful it looked on you.

After that he said you couldn’t return it to the rack, so he had to buy it for you.

The black strappy heels you put on were also Noah’s pick. You had to hand it to him. The man knew how to dress even when it came to dressing other people.. or maybe he just knew what he wanted to see his girl in.

You sit at your vanity and touch up your hair and makeup. The door opens and when Noah walks in you nearly drop your mascara. He’s in a black long sleeve dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, black trousers, and black leather chelsea boots. A gold watch on his wrist accentuates the black outfit perfectly.

“Ready, bug?”

You swing your legs delicately over the vanity bench and stand up. Noah’s breath hitches when he sees you. The dress looks even better on you now than it did at the store. Every curve and slope of your body is accentuated by the silky fabric. Your hair falls in soft curls over your shoulders and he notices you put his favorite shade of lipstick on. His heart aches because you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he knows you have no idea.

Noah holds his hand out for you and smiles softly. Graciously, you take it and he places gentle kisses on your knuckles. “You look so beautiful, baby.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you beam at him. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Davis.”

Noah laughs and holds out his arms, giving you a twirl to show off his outfit. “I do clean up pretty well, huh?”

“I better make sure we don’t go out in public with you looking that good. Someone might steal you from me.” You tease him.

Noah pulls you in an embrace, enveloping you in a deep kiss. It leaves you breathless, wishing it would never end, but it does. He separates from you, his dark brown eyes staring into yours.

“That’s never going to happen, baby.”

Noah insists on covering your eyes as he opens your bedroom door and leads you out to the hallway. He decided to forego the blindfold this time so it didn’t ruin your makeup. After some playful arguing, a lot of giggling from the both of you, and you nearly falling, he manages to position you right where he wanted you.

“Okay… you can open your eyes.”

Shades of red and white cover the floor, the petals scattered there form a trail that leads to the living room. Flameless candles light the dark hallway. Behind the floral aroma a delicious scent fills your nostrils and you hear movement in the kitchen. Is someone cooking?

Your eyes light up at the sight before you as you clasp your hands together in front of your face. As you turn to look at Noah, you realize he’s already watching you with wonder.

“Baby, it’s beautiful.” you say, softly. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

He chuckles and places a hand on the back of your head kissing your temple. “We’re not done yet, baby. You haven’t even made it down the hallway.” He points at the small table next to the living room door and you see a heart shaped balloon, a card, and a small black box. You reach the table and open the card.

A polaroid of the two of you on your first date falls out. You pick it up and admire it. He had taken you to a movie and then to the swan pedal boats at Echo Park. He snapped a picture of you two, the LED lights on the boat illuminating your smiling faces. On the bottom, Noah wrote:

Day 1: Our First Date. The beginning of us.

You grab the black box and open it to see a small gold bracelet inside. Dangling from the chain you see a tiny swan. You run your thumb over the grooves in the metal where its wings are, eyes brimming with tears.

“Here, let me.” Noah says, delicately placing the bracelet around your wrist. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist and laces his fingers with yours. “C’mon, baby.”

He escorts you into the next room. If you thought he went all out for the hallway, you were unprepared for the living room. More flower petals lie on the floor and on the couch. The house was dark, the only light was what little daylight could peek through the shades and more flameless candles that Noah had placed everywhere.

A gigantic red heart balloon arch was placed above the couch. You laugh internally imagining Noah trying to get that thing inside your house. Suddenly, it hits you. When did he have time to put it in your house? More movement in the kitchen reminds you of your mystery chef. Sweet Noah. He has a plan for everything.

There’s another single heart shaped balloon, white this time, attached to the coffee table with a card and a smaller black box. Careful not to disturb the rose petals, you sit on the edge of the couch. The card holds another polaroid of you and Noah after one of his concerts. You’re hanging off of him as he kisses your cheek.

Day 32: My biggest fan.

The box held a single charm. A small gold concert ticket Noah had customized with “Bad Omens”. He attaches the charm to your bracelet and you lean into him. You play with the charms as he rubs your back. “Everything ok, bug?” He whispers.

You look up at him and nod, smiling. You choose not to say anything, knowing if you did you’d start crying. Noah stands up. “Let’s keep going. We’re almost to the best part.”

The next table had the same set up. The photo was a blurry one you had taken after a night out. You were both in bed and Noah had red lipstick, the very same you were wearing this evening, all over his face from where you had been kissing him. You were still kissing him in the photo. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, humming.

He was remembering the night just as you were. You had stumbled into the house drunk, unable to keep your hands off of each other. The lipstick you were wearing made it onto many other parts of his body that evening and he insisted on taking photos of it all. You made him promise to keep the more risqué ones locked away, but it seems he chose the most appropriate one for this evening.

Day 72: My wild girl…and why red is my new favorite color.

Your cheeks heat at his note. Noah growls in your ear teasingly and kisses behind your ear. He prompts you to open the box, so you do. A red lips charm lies inside causing you to burst out in laughter. Noah laughs as well and attaches it to your wrist along with the other two. He pats you on the butt and guides you into the dining room.

Fairy lights were strung from the ceiling. A white tablecloth and dark red table runner had been placed on the table. A large vase of flowers, a mixture of roses and daisies, sits in the middle. The table was set beautifully; plates and utensils all in their places. A bottle of wine was placed next to a bowl of strawberries. He really didn’t leave out a thing.

Noah pulls your chair out and helps you in. He slides into the chair opposite you and gives you a big smile you can’t help but mirror. As soon as you place your napkin in your lap, someone busts through the door from the kitchen. You’re shocked to see Nicholas, also dressed up, with two plates of food. He practically floats over to you and places your plate down first, then Noah’s.

“Nicky..” You speak as you gently grab his arm, pulling him down to you. “How much did Noah pay you to do all of this?”

“Not a dime, darling. I did this out of the kindness of my heart.” He says, flashing you a sweet smile.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, but he just winks at you. “You’re important to Noah, so you’re important to me. It’s my pleasure.” He kisses your cheek and you thank him.

“You’re welcome. However, Noah, next time you want a huge balloon arrangement snuck into her house, you’re on your own. That thing was a bitch to get in the door.” Nicholas calls out as he walks back to the kitchen.

“Nick, you know you’ll do it again in a heartbeat if I ask.” Noah yells.

“I don’t know shit!” Nicholas’ muffled yell from behind the door makes you snicker.

Conversation and laughter make dinner and dessert pass by quickly. After he passes out dessert and cleans up the kitchen, you catch Nicholas attempting to slip out quietly. He gives a little wave and you smile and wave back, a silent thank you.

Noah checks his watch and quickly stands up. “We have to hurry or we’ll miss it!” he exclaims, excitedly. He brings you out to your back patio. There are no fancy decorations. Just a polaroid camera, a black sharpie, and a familiar small black box.

The sun is setting now. The sunlight shines through the clouds, and the sky turns beautiful shades of pink and purple. Noah sighs in relief.

“We didn’t miss it.”

The realization that Noah was so worried about missing the sunset with you is painfully sweet. You watch him as he grabs the camera and stuffs the sharpie in his pocket. He turns you both around so your backs are against the setting sun, and he drapes his arm around your shoulder. You wrap around his torso and he rests his head on yours, snapping the photo.

The polaroid shoots out of the camera and he shakes it. Once the photo appears you look at it at the same time. The golden light shines through and around the two of you. Almost as if the two of you were glowing.

“I think this is our best one yet.” You say.

Noah agrees and hands you the black box. The final charm. This one was kept in a satin bag inside the box so you were extra careful with it. You place it delicately in your hand. The heart shaped charm was made of red murano glass. You gaze at the charm in awe of its beauty. It was perfect, just like all of the others.

Noah stares at you, at the sunlight shining on your face. He had spent years chasing the feeling he has in this very moment with you. All of the pain and heartbreak he had caused and experienced meant nothing anymore.

You were right in front of him and everything he ever wanted.

He had spent so much time agonizing over this night. Was it too soon? Should he wait? Would you feel the same way? He wanted everything to be perfect for you. You were perfect.

Noah sits the photo down. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you passionately. You taste like wine and honey from dessert and he licks further into your mouth yearning for more.

When he pulls away he places his forehead against yours. His hands never leave your face, his thumbs running along the apples of your cheeks. You stare up at him through your lashes, watching as his mouth opens and closes again.

“I love you so much, y/n.”

Your stomach turns a million flips at once. The pounding of your heart makes you dizzy. Tears well up in your eyes and you smile so hard your cheeks hurt instantly. He makes a surprised noise as you roughly attach your lips to his.

Noah takes your response as a positive one, assuming you wouldn’t kiss him if you don’t feel the same way. However, his anxiety is getting the better of him and he can’t wait any longer. He gently separates the two of you, the noise you make is so pitiful he regrets it immediately, but he has to know.

When he looks at you, he is unprepared for the pout you give him. It was so cute he couldn’t help but laugh. You stomp your foot but you’re also laughing.

“Why did you stop kissing me?” You question, still pouting.

“I’m sorry, baby, but…I need to hear you say it. I have to know you feel the same way.”

It dawns on you that in your excitement you had failed to respond to him. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Baby, of course I feel the same way. I’ve actually wanted to say it for a couple of weeks now but was afraid it was too soon. I’m so glad you said it, though. All of this you’ve done for me today… This has been the best day ever. No one has ever loved me or taken care of me the way you have. I love you more than anything, Noah Davis.”

Noah grins and lifts you off the ground, twirling you around. He smothers your face, neck, and shoulders with kisses. When you thought he was done, he started again.

“Baby, are you ever going to stop?” You say through a fit of giggles.

“Nope, never.” He says, his voice muffled by your neck.

You whine and he groans playfully.

“Fine, but you have to say it again.”

You sigh, pretending like it was so taxing and kiss his nose. He smirks at you, waiting.

“I love you, Noah.”

Noah gives you a satisfied smile and pulls the sharpie out of his pocket. He uncaps it and picks up the polaroid. He taps the marker on his chin for a moment in contemplation and then begins to write.

Day 90: Our anniversary. Sunset.

The day you said you love me.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens fluff

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cordycepsbian · 2 years

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day 2: vacation

team slacker slackin' off somewhere

#bug fables #bugtober #bf delilah #bf stratos #team slacker #stuff i made tag #spent too much drawing energy on gay penguin & orb so went for something simple here #delilah looks like she would be easy to draw but no. how do you draw mosquitos #we're satisfied with how stratos looks here though. he is so shaped #enough rambling just look at our bugs boy

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goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Never Alone

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants to meet Y/N’s family, but she is hesitant to introduce him to them and he can’t figure out why. When he discovers the reason, he’s hurt that she felt the need to hide it from him. This makes Harry question Y/N’s feelings for him, while she thinks he’s doubting her anxiety issues.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: anxiety, toxic family, invalidation of mental health issues, angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut

A/N: Listened to Matilda and Renegade by Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift a ton while writing this. Also, to anyone reading this who has ever felt invalidated about their mental health issues, I see you and I hope you know you are never ever alone ❤️

***

Harry and Y/N hadn’t been dating for very long when he introduced her to his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma.

He knew that meeting them in person for the first time would be stressful for Y/N because of her social anxiety as well as her obsession with making an excellent impression on every single person in his life. So, he cleverly began easing her into it by having her pop in briefly during his usual FaceTime calls with Anne and Gemma.

It worked because when he asked her to come home with him for Christmas, she didn’t even hesitate to say yes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it though. Between her anxiety and his excitement, they were both a ball of jitters on the ten-hour flight from LA to London.

Harry’s family fell in love with Y/N. Once she conquered her initial timidness, she fit in perfectly with them. This didn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but Y/N was completely blown away by the love and warmth that his family showered her with. She was even brought to tears from it.

After a joyous holiday with his family, Harry found himself imagining what meeting Y/N’s family would be like. To him, that was the next logical step in their relationship, and he was eagerly anticipating it. So, when they’re a whole year into their relationship and she still hasn’t introduced him to her family or expressed any intention of doing so, he can’t help but wonder what might be holding her back.

She even had the opportunity to do so when she recently visited her family for a few days. She could have taken him with her. He even offered to tag along, but she refused, claiming that her mother had come down with some nasty stomach bug, so it wouldn’t be the best time.

He can’t lie. Her refusal hurt. Although he tries not to make a big deal out of it, it eats at him over the next couple weeks, so one day, he just decides to bring it up.

For most people, it’s a lazy Sunday—the perfect opportunity to sleep in and not get out of bed until noon. Not for Harry and Y/N though. No, the two creative souls got up bright and early to use this time to write and draw. Harry sits on one couch with his guitar in his lap and his songwriting notebook next to him along with his phone, which is recording everything he plays. On the other couch is Y/N, her sketchbook perched up against her bent legs, her pencil gripped between her skillful fingers as she works on a drawing.

Harry has been staring at her for some time now while mindlessly strumming his guitar. She’s too immersed in her task to sense his gaze on her.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” she responds without looking up from her sketchbook.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

He pauses the recording on his phone before asking, “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

The question pulls her attention away from her drawing to his face. The hand holding her pencil is frozen on the paper.

“I told you,” she says softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I’m just... waiting for the right time.”

He cocks a brow. “The right time? Will there ever be a right time? We’ve been together for a year.” He really doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding, but he also just wants her to know how he feels. “You and my mum are constantly sending each other cat videos. You and Gemma have inside jokes that I’m not even a part of. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering if your family even knows who I am.”

She gives him a small, slightly amused smirk. “H, they know who you are. Trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at his guitar. Sure, they may know him as “Harry Styles the singer” or “Harry Styles the actor,” but that’s not what matters to him. He just wants them to know him as Y/N’s boyfriend, that’s all.

“They know that we’re in a relationship,” she confirms.

He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Okay... And? How do they feel about that? Do they ask about me? Do they even want to meet me?”

She averts her gaze, her pencil moving across the page again. “They ask about you every time I see them.”

“Then what’s holding you back?” he inquires gently.

Her response is so delayed that he wonders if he’s even going to get one. “I’ll talk to them,” she says after a minute. “We’ll arrange a time for you and me to go see them together.”

His eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Really?”

She nods. “Yeah. If you really want to meet them, I’ll try to make it happen.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t expect her to concede so quickly. “Thank you, lovie,” he says once the words finally come to him.

She just gives him a brief smile and returns to her drawing, making a few more pencil strokes before asking, “Wanna see what I drew?”

“Always.”

She tries to bite back an excited grin as she turns her sketchbook around to show him. He shifts the guitar in his lap and leans forward to take a look. He instantly recognizes himself in the sketch. It’s him sitting as he is now, on the couch with his guitar. Every detail of his facial features is intricately depicted from the focused furrow of his brow to the shape of his nose to the stubble on his jaw.

He stares at it in awe. “That looks amazing.”

“Thanks!”

He tears his gaze away from the sketch and looks at her. “You were drawing me this whole time? I thought you were brainstorming ideas for your next piece.”

“I was, but you just looked so cute sitting there with your guitar. I mean, you were practically begging to be drawn.” She shoots him a flirtatious grin.

“Mhm. Right.” He shakes his head at her, smiling. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course.” She carefully rips the page out of her book and hands it over to him.

“Another one for the collection,” he states happily, referring to his growing collection of sketches that she’s drawn of him over the past year. In the beginning, she used to hide them from him. Then one day, he stumbled upon her sketchbook sitting on the dining table, opened up to a page containing a flawless illustration of his Vogue magazine cover, and he was astounded. Y/N’s whole face flushed red when she found him staring at it, but he was quick to reassure her that he liked it and asked if he could keep it.

“I don’t mind, you know. That you like drawing me,” he told her that day. “It’s a compliment, if anything, and it’s no different than me writing songs about you.”

Her face brightened at his revelation. “You write songs about me?”

“All the time.”

Ever since that conversation, she no longer hesitates to show him these drawings and he makes sure to keep each one in a safe place.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been saving them all,” she says now. “You really haven’t thrown a single one away?”

“I could never.”

***

A whole week passes by, and it’s like their conversation about arranging a time to meet Y/N’s family never even happened because she doesn’t bring it up again. Harry starts to wonder if she only said that to appease him for a while and stop him from asking. That annoys him. It would be one thing to tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet her family; it’s another to make false promises just to shut him up.

He wishes he could drop it. But he can’t. Especially now that he is almost certain that she’s hiding something from him.

She has a meeting today with the owner of an esteemed art gallery in LA, who offered her the opportunity to hold her first solo art exhibition. She has spent the last couple months preparing for the exhibition, which is less than two weeks away. Her best friend and business partner, Rosie, will be accompanying her to the meeting. Rosie shows up at Harry’s house around 10:30 that morning.

“Y/N’s upstairs, still getting ready,” he tells her after inviting her in. “Should be down soon though.”

“I’m surprised I’m ready before her for once. That’s quite the accomplishment for me.”

“Yeah, I, um—” He releases a sheepish laugh, touching his fingers to his lips. “I may have made her a bit late getting out of bed this morning.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. He raises his brows at her expectantly, but she waves a dismissive hand and says, “Oh, I was just going to ask what you two were up to, but then I answered my own question.”

A coy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, as the memories of his sensual morning with Y/N play back in his mind.

He and Rosie take a seat in the living room. He offers her something to eat or drink while they wait, but she politely declines. That’s when the thought occurs to him. If there is anyone who knows Y/N better than him, it would be her best friend, who has known her for the majority of her adult life. Surely, if Y/N is hiding something from him, Rosie could be the key to helping him figure out what and why.

“Hey, this might be a random question, but have you ever met Y/N’s family?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“What are they like?”

Her hazel eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that Y/N and I have been together for a year and she still hasn’t introduced me to her family?”

Rosie hesitates. She glances over her shoulder at the stairs before answering quietly, “Look, let’s just say... Her family isn’t very supportive of her.”

His heart sinks. “Shit. Really?”

She nods. “They’re like the type of people who think mental health problems aren’t real problems or that tough love can fix everything, including anxiety.”

He winces.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, referring not only to Y/N’s reluctance to introduce him to her family but also her emotional reaction to his family accepting her with open arms. “Why didn’t she just tell me that? I would’ve understood.”

“You know how Y/N is. She keeps a lot to herself, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose most of the time.”

“I know, but...” He shrugs. “I just thought we’d reached that stage in our relationship where we could tell each other anything. At least that’s how I feel when I’m with her.”

She had so many chances to tell him the truth about her family. Even if she didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details of it, all she had to do was tell him that they’re not nice people for him to drop the topic altogether. He feels guilty now for bringing up her family so much, but she never gave him any indication that they were bad people. Even when she went to visit them recently, it didn’t seem like she was dreading it. So, how was Harry supposed to know? How can he possibly know anything about her if she refuses to open up to him?

They hear her footsteps rapidly descending the stairs now.

“I’m ready!” she shouts.

Her outfit for the meeting is sleek and professional—a teal blouse loosely tucked into a pair of slim, high-waisted black trousers. Harry helped her pick it out this morning when she was struggling to decide between a few different options.

“How late are we?” she asks breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Rosie checks her phone. “Not that late. We can still get there with five minutes to spare.”

As Rosie heads to the door, Y/N walks over to Harry to kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you later,” she says.

He squeezes her hand. “Best of luck with the meeting. Remember to breathe.”

“I’ll try!”

And then she’s off.

***

Sometimes, Y/N can’t tell if someone is actually behaving differently around her or if her anxiety is causing her to see things that aren’t there. There have been instances where she thought someone was acting off around her and became convinced that they were upset with her only to find out that they were just having a bad day and it had nothing to do with her at all.

She wonders if this might be the case with Harry. He has been acting strange the past few days. The shift in behaviour is subtle. A kiss that ends a moment too soon, a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes, a laugh that feels just a little bit forced. Most people wouldn’t take notice. But the thing about anxiety is that it forces you to notice everything. It’s as if the brain is in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning its environment for the slightest sign of a threat.

Harry has been at the studio all day. She saw him briefly around seven o’clock this morning when her eyes fluttered open to find him all showered and dressed for the day, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“Heading to the studio. Love you,” he told her, planting a hasty kiss to her forehead before leaving.

She couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so she decided to start her day too and put some finishing touches on the drawings for her upcoming exhibit. However, her overthinking mind made it impossible to focus. She ultimately decided to take her drawings over to her apartment and work there instead.

Over the past six months, she has practically lived at Harry’s house with how much time she spends there. But her apartment has always been there in case she needs some time alone or, like today, she just needs a change of scenery to sharpen her focus.

It didn’t occur to her at any point to text Harry and let him know where he can find her after he finishes up at the studio. Or perhaps, her subconscious made her withhold that information on purpose to see if he would even notice or care for her absence.

Late that evening, she receives a call from him.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks when she picks up.

“Oh, I’m at my apartment. Couldn’t focus today, so I thought I’d try working here instead.”

“Hm. Wish you’d told me. I would’ve headed straight there from the studio.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles in response.

“It’s all right. Be there in a few.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

A nervousness seeps through her after their call. A kind of nervousness she hasn’t felt since the very early days of their relationship when she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. She doesn’t like this feeling and tries to distract herself by cleaning up the kitchen where she just finished having dinner not too long ago.

Harry has a spare key to her apartment, just like she has one to his house, so when she hears it turn in the lock, she knows it’s him. Her heart is in her throat.

She’s washing her hands in the kitchen sink when the door opens.

“Hi, my love,” he greets her. He’s wearing her merch today. Well, technically, it’s his merch that she helped design. Their merch, as he would call it.

“Hey,” she replies. As she wipes her hands on the towel by the sink, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. She turns around to face him. “How was your day?” For some reason, the question comes out sounding awkward, at least in her head, but Harry seems unfazed.

“Productive. We wrote so much today. Song after song. I couldn’t believe it. Tyler suggested we pull an all-nighter, but everyone was tired, so we decided to go home…” A dimpled smile emerges on his face as he adds, “And I wanted to see you, so…”

He plants a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. She should feel the stress dissipating from her body. She should feel a sense of calm washing over her like cool ocean waves on a hot summer day. But none of that happens.

His hand sneaks under her shirt, squeezing her bare waist before wandering upward to her breast.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling away suddenly. “I, um, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He blinks a few times, thrown for a moment. “Oh. Okay. No worries.” He takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck, eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m just starting my period soon, so you know…”

“Ah. Well, maybe we can just cuddle then. If you’re in the mood for that.”

“Mhm.”

They lay on her plush black couch together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through the lengths of her hair. He’s humming some unknown melody—probably a new song he’s been working on. She feels her heartbeat slowing down, finally.

Then he says, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Her heart picks up again. This is it. This is what she’s been dreading. She has no idea what he’s about to say, but of course, her mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

“Yeah?” she says, trying to keep her voice level.

“It’s about something Rosie told me.”

She frowns. “Something Rosie told you? What would that be?”

“She told me about your family, how they… they’re not supportive of you and your struggles.”

Her frown deepens. “She told you that?” She sits up now. “Why would she do that? She has no right to be sharing that kind of information about me.”

He sits up too, confusion taking hold of his features. “It’s not like she shared it with some stranger, lovie. I’m your boyfriend. Why is it so bad that she told me?”

“Because I didn’t want…” She trails off.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

She wordlessly looks down in her lap.

“Why?” he asks, the hurt apparent in his voice.

Forcing herself to look at him, she answers, “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited to meet them, and you bring them up all the time—”

“Yeah, that was when I knew nothing about them. If I’d known how they’d treated you, why the fuck would I want to meet them?” He runs a hand through his hair, clutching the ends briefly before letting go. “And I brought them up all the time because you were always so bloody vague about the topic. What was I— What was I meant to think? I’m not a mind-reader, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you’re not a mind-reader.” She tries to reach out to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her outstretched hand as he turns away, so she lets it fall on the couch.

“Well, sometimes I feel like you expect me to be one because you never tell me how you really feel or what you’re really thinking, and I’m left to figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, that’s not true.” She shakes her head, growing a bit defensive now. “I know I used to be like that in the beginning, but you can’t tell me I haven’t gotten better since then because I have. You’re just angry right now and I—I can understa—”

“I’m not angry,” he insists, though he sounds pretty close to it, and it’s making her panic because although she has seen him get angry before, it’s never been at her.

His eyes fall shut for a moment. He seems to compose himself before continuing calmly, “I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, I’ve bared my entire fucking soul to you, and I know it’s not as easy for you to do the same, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park for me either. You say that it’s your anxiety that keeps you from opening up to me, but at this point, I can’t help but wonder if you just don’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about you.”

She flinches at the last part, a sense of betrayal settling like rocks in her stomach. “Y—you think I use my anxiety as an excuse?”

“That is not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“No,” he stresses, clenching his jaw. “You’re purposely misunderstanding me.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

Puzzled green eyes stare back at her. “What?”

“This has clearly been on your mind for some time now. If you really think that I don’t feel strongly about you, that my anxiety is just some cover-up, then why are you still wasting your time with me?” Her heart thuds wildly in her chest as she spouts, “Is it just for the sex? Is that it? I mean, that’s why you came here tonight, right? Just for a quick fuck. And when you couldn’t have that, you decided to pick a fight with me.”

It was mean. Quite possibly—no, definitely—the meanest thing she has ever said to or about him. And it was undeserved. And she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

The expression on his face switches from disbelief to disgust to pure pain in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You’re right. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. Just a quick fuck. Because I’m some lowlife prick that would use you for sex and get mad when I can’t have it. You figured it out. Amazing job.” He claps his hands and stands up, taking long strides to the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” she stammers.

He ignores her and shoves his socked feet into his Vans. On shaky legs, she hurries over to him.

“H, where are you going?”

As his left hand reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his other one.

“No, wait, don’t go.”

“No, you’ve made it clear to me the kind of person you think I am. Thanks for your honesty, Y/N.” He speaks without looking at her. She can only see his side profile, but it’s enough to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

He tries to pull his hand away, but she squeezes it tighter, pleading with him, “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. Baby, please—”

“I’m tired, Y/N,” he sighs out, sounding utterly exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

He manages to yank his hand free from her grasp and leaves the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Y/N stands there, staring at it for the longest time, before making her way back to the couch in a daze.

She doesn’t know why she said it. He was just trying to explain his inner thoughts and feelings, not attacking her, but her brain latched onto that one comment about her anxiety and blew it way out of proportion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside her, reopening old wounds created by people in her past who invalidated her struggles.

But Harry is nothing like those people. No, he is a far cry from them. No one has shown her the level of kindness and understanding that he has, and she fears that no one else ever will, which makes the thought of losing him catastrophically more painful.

She lies down on her side on the couch, curling her legs into herself as the first sob of many escapes her body.

***

The big day has arrived.

Y/N’s very first solo art exhibition that she’s been working her ass off on for the past few months takes place tonight. The gallery that offered to display her work made an agreement with her to donate a portion of the profits to a local mental health charity—something that Y/N has always wanted to do. She’s always dreamed of using her art to give back to causes that matter to her, and she is finally at the stage where she can do that.

Her art career has taken off this past year. She was doing well before, but this year has catapulted her career to heights she couldn’t have imagined. She knows Harry has a lot to do with it, since the limited edition merch she designed for him attracted millions of new eyes to her work, not to mention the fact that she started dating him afterwards, which further piqued people’s curiosity about her as a person and an artist. But Harry, being the humble man he is, argues that it’s her talent that keeps bringing people back to her work, not him.

Whether he admits it or not, Harry has changed her life in more ways than one. Even if he never speaks to her again, she will be thanking him for the rest of her life.

Over the past week, she has typed a hundred different apologies to him, deleting each one without sending it, convincing herself that it’s not good enough, that he doesn’t want to hear from her, that he probably hates her guts.

She has missed him all week, but tonight, that feeling cements itself deep inside her chest, mixing perilously with the fear of having to talk about her art with strangers. It would’ve helped to have Rosie here at least, but her fiancé’s mother was in the hospital after a medical emergency and she needed to be there for them.

Y/N feels incredibly alone.

The people working at the gallery have been lovely. She hardly had to do anything at all because they took care of the entire setup. Now, they’re preparing the refreshments table, and just the mere sight of all that food is making her nauseous.

As hard as she tries to keep her shit together, she crumbles and bolts towards the exit. One of the gallery workers tries to inform her that the exhibit is about to start, but she barely hears him through her heart pounding in her ears. Once outside, she starts walking down the sidewalk in a random direction and finds an opening between two buildings where she can take a moment to herself, away from other people.

The fresh air entering her lungs is somewhat soothing, so she tries to focus on that, leaning a hand against one of the buildings.

“Y/N?” says a deep, familiar voice from behind her.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself, but when she turns around, there he is. Standing on the sidewalk. Dressed in dark, indiscriminate clothing and a hat, which casts a shadow over most of his handsome features. He’s wearing his Gucci square-framed glasses that make him look like a college student.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

He steps towards her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I was sat in the cafe across the street, waiting for your exhibit to start. Saw you run out. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, she asks in a weak voice, “You came to see my exhibit?”

“Of course I did,” he says, as if the concept of him missing it is unfathomable. He places his hands on his hips and adds with a faint smirk, “You think I, your number one fan, would miss out on your first solo exhibit? C’mon.”

Tears flood Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision.

Harry’s face falls. “Oh no. Don’t cry, lovie.”

The tears streak down her cheeks now, ruining the makeup she spent so long on applying tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

He reaches towards her and delicately places his hands on her arms. “I could never hate you.”

“But you should! You should hate me because you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me and I treated you like shit in return and I hate myself for it and I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

“Shh, come here.” He pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, holding her there until she calms down. Then he draws back and lifts her chin to make her look at him. “Listen to me. I did not come here to make you cry and ruin your big night, okay? I came here to support you. Now you’re going to put on that beautiful smile of yours and you’re going to go back in there and you’re going to put on this wonderful exhibit—”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, you can. You’ve worked so hard for this, my love. You deserve this. Don’t let your fear tell you otherwise.”

She sniffles, thinking for a moment. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes. The whole time,” he reassures her. “I promise to be discreet though. I’m not about to steal the spotlight from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did, to be honest.”

“See, that’s the fear talking.” He pokes her softly in the chest. “This is your night and your night only.”

A part of her wishes he would just pull her back into his arms and let her stay there forever, safe and warm and comfortable. But he’s right. She has worked too hard and come too far to allow fear to stifle her now.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I’m going to go back in.”

He smiles widely. “That’s my girl.” He kisses her and sends her off with a few more encouraging words.

For the first fifteen minutes of the exhibit, as the first batch of visitors trickle into the gallery, the voice in Y/N’s head is screaming at her to run out the nearest exit and not look back. It takes everything in her to keep her feet planted where she is and withstand the racing heart and the churning stomach and the sweaty palms.

It isn’t until people start coming up to her to ask questions about her art that she begins to feel any semblance of calm, which is surprising, considering that this is the part she was most afraid of. Once she gets into artist mode, articulating her artistic ideas and techniques in front of these strangers comes naturally.

She spots Harry every now and then, wandering around the gallery with everyone else, blending in remarkably well in his dark clothes and hat and glasses. At one point, while she’s talking to someone, she sees Harry in the distance, holding up his phone with the camera aimed at her. He winks when he catches her eye.

By the last half hour of the exhibit, Y/N’s throat is dry and hoarse from talking so much. She can’t believe how many people were interested in discussing her work with her.

While she’s taking a break to have some water, she hears someone shout, “There she is!”

She turns to find Jeff and Glenne walking towards her, smiling and waving like proud parents.

“So sorry we’re late,” says Glenne. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Are you kidding?” says Jeff. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Y/N told them about the exhibit when she and Harry invited them over for dinner last month. She didn’t expect them to remember. The fact that they did means everything.

“We were going to buy something, but it looks like everything’s sold out, huh?” says Jeff, looking around.

“Oh, we’re so coming early for the next one,” says Glenne.

Y/N smiles at the determination in her voice. “Thank you for coming. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.”

Her heart is so full. Whereas the night started with her feeling petrified and alone, she now feels more loved and supported than ever. To say that the exhibit was a success is an understatement, and having Harry, Jeff, and Glenne all there for her was the cherry on top because success tastes so much sweeter when you have people to share it with.

***

Harry is bursting with pride. Watching Y/N put on this exhibit tonight has been quite a treat. She has blossomed from someone who used to not think very highly of her artistic capabilities into a self-assured artist right before his eyes, and he has loved being able to witness her growth.

Now they’re at his house, having Thai food, and Y/N, who hasn’t eaten all day due to nerves, is devouring everything so quickly that he worries he might not have ordered enough food for them. Luckily, that doesn’t end up being the case.

Afterwards, as they’re placing their dishes in the sink, Y/N tells him, “I saw you sneaking pictures of me at the exhibit. Like a little fanboy.”

He laughs. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so in your element.”

She bites her lip. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his camera roll. He places it on the counter so they can both look together.

Each photo shows Y/N talking to people who came to see her work, her hands poised in the air as she describes her creative process or her inspiration behind a specific piece.

“You look so confident,” he comments. “And happy.” He looks up at her from his phone and nudges her softly with his arm. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second, it seems like she’s about to break down into tears again but then contains herself.

“I really don’t deserve you,” she says.

He gives her a gentle look, knowing that she’s referring to the hurtful words she fired at him that night in her apartment. The words that burrowed deep under his skin for a few days until he gained some clarity and realized that she’d only said them because she felt attacked, that she didn’t actually believe them. Of course, that didn’t make it okay, but it did soften him towards her a little. And knowing Y/N, he could safely assume that she was far angrier at herself than he was at her.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I mean, it still fucking hurt, but I know they were just words said in the heat of the moment… Right?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “And I’m so sorry, not just about what I said that night, but also what I didn’t say about my family, for hiding that from you.”

“No, I never should’ve pushed you to tell me in the first place.”

“But you never pushed me, Harry.” She turns her body towards him fully, leaning against the counter. “You just asked because you were curious about that part of my life, the same way I was curious about your family before I met them. It’s just that my family is… They’re nothing like yours. It’s not like they’re terrible people. They’re just not warm or affectionate, and they see any display of emotion as a sign of weakness.”

He quirks a brow. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lovie, but they sound like robots.”

“You’re not far off,” she replies with a shrug. “They have this toughness, this stoic resolve that I used to envy when I was younger, until I realized that I didn’t want to be like that at all. As a child though, when your whole family is like that and you’re the anxious one who can’t get your emotions under control, it’s hard to feel normal. My parents didn’t know how to handle my anxiety, so they tried to mold me into them, and when that didn’t work, they just started denying my feelings altogether. Every time I would try to talk about my feelings, they would shut me down, tell me to suck it up and toughen up and stop being so goddamn sensitive.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s chest ache. Y/N is a sensitive person, sure, but he never viewed that as a shortcoming. In fact, it’s one of the many things that drew him to her because he is the same way. His sensitivity has allowed him to be more empathetic in his relationships and more vulnerable in his music—qualities that he also noticed in Y/N.

“I got tired of trying to explain it to them,” she continues, “so I left and tried to make something out of my art career. And God, my parents hated that. They were never the creative types; they thought anything related to art was a waste of time. They kept telling me I was wasting my potential to be something bigger, something better than an artist. And at one point, I started believing them, but then I met people like Rosie, who weren’t emotionless robots and who actually appreciated art for what it is.

“And I made a life for myself out here, pouring my heart and soul into my art, and I’ve tried so hard to keep this new, amazing part of my life separate from that part because I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to meet them?” he asks gently.

“Well, that and the fact that they’re convinced that you’re just some hotshot superstar stringing me along while sleeping with ten other girls at the same time because they don’t see how someone like you could ever fall in love with someone like me. And they make sure to remind me of that every time I go see them, which is just so fun,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Harry doesn’t really care that her parents see him as some pompous asshole obsessed with sex. What does bother him, however, is that they try to make Y/N feel like she somehow doesn’t meet his standards, that she isn’t good enough for him because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“How come you still visit them?” he asks. “Not judging, just curious.” If it were up to him, he would never let them see her again.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I always felt obligated to? I felt like they did care about me, even if they sucked at showing it. But the older I get and especially this past year, I feel less obligated to put up with their shit. I’ll probably keep visiting for now, just not as often anymore.”

“You don’t have to deal with them alone, you know.” He takes her hand in his. “I’m more than willing to go along for moral support.”

“That’s really sweet, but… It’s hard enough hearing them say disrespectful things about you when you’re not there. If you were there, I think I might start throwing hands.”

He chuckles. The idea of his dear sweet Y/N, who couldn’t hurt a fly, threatening to fight her family for disrespecting him makes him melt inside.

“Okay, well, I understand if you’d prefer to go on your own,” he says. “My offer still stands though, if you change your mind.”

She smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And I promise to be more open and honest with you moving forward. I really am trying.”

“I know you are.” He looks down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. “Can’t be easy when you were told to bury your feelings down all through your childhood.”

“Yeah…”

When he looks up from their hands, he finds a peculiar look on her face, her eyes tender and almost hypnotic as they stare back at him.

He frowns slightly. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just feeling extra lucky tonight.”

“Oh.” He smiles, nearly blushing under her intense gaze. “Sooo, when’s the next exhibit? Because I have some suggestions.”

Her brows lift up curiously. “Suggestions?”

“Yeah, mostly for the refreshments table. I feel it was a bit lacking.”

She gasps. “Not the refreshments table! I worked so hard on that!”

“Hm, well, clearly not hard enough.”

She pouts. He chuckles and pinches her bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss, stopping just by her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“Love you more.” She completes the kiss.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

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3-dsimp · 2 years

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Monster rule 101: Don’t play with fire around your Mothman!

Mothman! Dabi x monster hunter! Fem reader

Cw: Black coded, Humiliation, asphrodiasic, slight mind break, degradation, praise, NFSW, monsterfuxking, overstimulation, breeding, impregnation, usage of cunt

🔞 MDNI/ NO AGELESS BLOGS🔞

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Tag list: @walkerofclouds @lyra-lore27 @geniusso @genshin-impacts-me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on a mission.

A very dangerous mission that was a code gold also known as Legendary. Meaning that the monstrous threat was equivalent to a whole country being wiped off the map. However, due to certain circumstances only one solider could be dispatched to deal with the golden threat.

The reason for that being because of how hyper sensitive the Mothman is to overcrowding within its territory. The team dispatch leader decided to proceed with the utmost caution lest they trigger its frenzy mode. Which would ultimately result in the loss of lives country wide, burning underneath the raging pure blue flames of the otherworldly demon.

<< Have you located the Mothman? Over >>

“Yes I’ve got eyes on the area sir, permission to proceed?”

<< Permission granted. Over >>

You were chosen out of a select few individuals for being the cream of the crop, to carry out this dire mission to save all of mankind. If you could succeed then you’d be set for life! Having the fame and the riches that come along with it, all in exchange for exterminating the deadliest bug humanoid in existence. You’d say that’s a fair trade, since it was high risk high reward type situation.

But as you approached the abandoned cave you could feel a sense of dread wash over your entire being.

You were being watched.

You could feel the sweat accumulate upon your lush brown skin littered in goosebumps. Then you heard a sharp chuff that echoed off the walls, seemingly the Mothman enjoyed watching you squirm from his focused attention.

Venturing even deeper into the unknown you tightly grasped at your equipment, a tool of reassurance you could say. That happened to be a flamethrower. Yes, out of all the weapons you chose a hazardous contraption that resembled a dragons breath.

Why? Mostly because you thought it’d be cool to go out in a blaze of glory should you happen to fail in your conquest to get the target in check. But it was also strategic in a way, since moths were attracted to light. You’ve had to find some kind of way to draw them out.

Too bad you didn’t get the chance to use it before you’re snatched into furry arms that secured you to the monsters chest. Which vibrated from his snarky greeting.

“You took too long enough for my liking doll, now shall we get down to business already? “

You could feel his bulge press up against the your ass, rubbing between your cheeks.

“I’m feeling a bit pent up”

He rasped impatiently into your ear, boy did his voice do wonders as it spiked your arousal. But you had a job to do, unfortunately. Gathering your composure you asserted yourself to the monster.

“You already know why I’m here right? Mr. Mothman.”

You could feel him chuckle darkly against your neck, highly amused by your sense of professionalism. Even while having his dick steadily grind against your back, covering you in clear fluids. Making your thighs shake in excitement.

“Obviously, but just call me Dabi, dollface. You’re gonna wear it out in a few moments might as well get a lil practice in ya?”

You were dumbfounded. Could he be implying what you’re thinking—

“Judging from the look on your pretty face, I’m guessing your little agency didn’t fill ya in on our little inside deal huh?”

He purred

You could feel his loosened grip completely leave your body. Allowing you to be able to face the Mothman hunched over in all of his 7ft glory. He had tuffs of black fur covering his toned ripped chest, arms, and legs. His overall body type was lean and slender. The dark colored wings sprouting at large from behind, before being folded back neatly into place. To avoid you from seeing his jagged scars littered across them.

“All I can say is that you’re in for one hell of a ride once I get my hands on you Baby. So Outta the kindness of my heart I’ll give you a 5 minute head start—”

He paused, as you gave him an warm embrace of your own. Grinding against his bulge that continued to grow even further against you. He looked down at you in disbelief, but it wasn’t before long until he connected the dots.

“ Don’t tell me, You’re one of those monster fanatics aren’t ya?”

To be quite frank yes. You were an absolute fan of monsters, you fantasized about getting close and becoming friends with one. But now you were gonna be the mate of a code legendary?? You couldn’t believe your luck. Plus it was the mission you were given, so as the loyal solider that you are. You gratefully accepted your fate with no questions asked.

The Mothman merely laughed in the irony of it all, a monster hunter wanting to be fucked by a monster it was so priceless. A devious smirk planted on his face As he bended over down to your height charred lips barely touching the shell of your ear only to whisper darkly of a precautionary warning of what you’re getting into.

“ You do realize that I’m in heat right doll?”

He reached his hand down running his tempered claws down the fat of your thick ass giving it a tight squeeze before hooking your leg up to leave some room for him to freely press his huge twitching bulge against your moist mound.

“I’m barely hanging on by a thread, so Don’t hold anything against me if I lose control got it?”

It wasn’t long until you were on the brink of being fucked to death by the Mothman of your dreams. face pushed down into the cocoon like nest he prepared in advance as his extended feeler limbs sprouted out from his sides, to grasp at you from behind hooking onto your waist. Keeping you grounded on his intrusive dick. While his primary arms wrapped around you tightly to play with your breasts that jigged violently from his ruthless thrusts from behind.

“You’re sucha pretty lil thing for me aren’t ya?”

The strong pheromones that wafted off from his wings made you feel so vulnerable and helpless within his smoldering embrace. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you’ve came alone from him just penetrating your cervix. It was as if you were on cloud nine enjoying the way his cum covered cock kept digging even deeper inside your snug snatch trying to ensure that you’d get pregnant with his brood.

“Your slutty pussy just can’t seem to get enough of my dick, don’t worry doll I’ll make you take all of it”

He murmured eyes staring down dangerously at the way your pliant body bended to his ministrations. He payed close attention to the way his dick continued to be devoured by your juicy cunt. That sucked and messaged his thick cock inside the hot mesh of your inner walls determined to be flooded with his baby batter.

“ Mmh D-Dabi please I can’t—!”

You babbled dumbly with drool hanging down from the corners of your fucked out plump lips. As the intensity of his rapid heavy thrusts began to increase its assault against your quivering quim.

You tried to crawl away from yet another approaching high that was dead set on crashing down on your senses. But his firm grip on your neck yanked you back into reality.

“ Aye Dollface don’t ever try to fuckin crawl away from me again, you’re mine you got that?”

Dabi hissed, giving you a sharp tug on your butterfly locs and a harsh bite on your shoulder as a fair warning.

The cave was emitting loud strange sounds from the inside, alerting to anyone from around the area to vacate the premises immediately. In case the Mothman were to come out of his home and start wrecking chaos. But little did they know that Stowed away deep inside the cave for a whole week did you lay beneath the Mothman in all your naked glory.

Freshly fucked all the way to Sunday during his still ongoing heat cycle. Where the only thing covering you was his semen that painted your caramel skin from your breasts down to your overused cunt stuffed to the brim with his cum that trickled out from your puffy pussylips. Only to be pushed back in by his long veiny dick just to ensure that the next of his kin would live on inside your womb.

Hey At least you prevented a worldwide tragedy, right?

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