#i have glasses and drink a lot of coffee and own TWO yellow sweaters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Tastes Like Strawberries - Harry Styles

a/n: oh this one is a long boi and might not be the end??? i’ve been working on this fic for days and i have an idea for a possible second part, but i wrote this one so it has a fulfilling ending so it can stand as a oneshot as well! i barely just started working on the sequel, we’ll se how it’ll turn out, maybe it goes to shit lmao but whatever, it’s still a nice and whole story without a second part! this is my V-day gift to you all, have this nice professor!harry fic as if it was a box of chocolate! 🍓 🍫 🍬

special thanks to @pastequeharry who put up with my constant rambling and whining while i was writing this, you are a hero, his is dedicated to you!!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content, abusing relationship, it’s got smut, angst, lot’s of banter and all that jazz!

word count: 21.4k

masterlist

There’s just a handful of things to know about Professor Harry Styles and that’s because of one of those very few known facts, the first one being that he is a highly private person. He rarely talks about himself or any aspects of his life, he always makes sure to keep it as professional as possible whenever he is teaching.

Second, he is easily the smartest professor to ever walk on campus, but he doesn’t like to brag about it. You never catch him showing off how much he knows, how big of a genius he is, you’ll just start to realize from the way he teaches and approaches certain topics, how he interacts with others and tries to pass his knowledge down to his students. He is brilliant and he should have all the credits for it, yet he still chooses to keep it to himself.

Third, and it’s the most well-known fact because to see this you just need to have a pair of eyes, he is undeniably the most handsome man to ever teach or if you’re being more precise, walk the hallways of the university. No football crazy, alcoholic fratboy or dreamy looking indie guy from the library can live up to what Professor Harry Styles is. With a face clearly carved by the angels, a nicely built but not too muscular frame, and occasionally displayed tattooed arm that makes you wonder what other artworks his stylish outfits are hiding, there’s no man like him and every female on campus agrees with that.

His lectures and courses are jampacked with sighing and heart-eyed college girls, daydreaming about the man who is solemnly just trying to teach the things he is so passionate about. But it’s not just the students, Professor Styles has managed to charm the female professors of all faculties, you can see them wander by his office way too often, they take any opportunity to talk to the man and try to seduce him. It’s unknown if he is oblivious to the effect he has on women or he chooses to ignore every and any attempts, but this is what leads us to the fourth fact.

Despite all the effort and energy that’s been put into his case by every single woman on campus to break the walls the professor has built around himself, he never let any of his students or colleagues to even think they could be romantically linked for real. Professor Styles keeps his distance and turns down any offer that could be mistaken to anything that doesn’t fit in the professional boundaries.

Anytime a student puts on the slightest flirtatious act towards the professor, he either rejects it straight away or ignores it completely and blatantly, making it his clear answer that he is not interested and then he goes back to teaching. You’ve seen it yourself, having him as one of your professors first year of uni, you fell for him just like every other girl in the lecture hall, dreaming about him in ways you probably shouldn’t think of a teacher while he was just casually talking about his grading system and how he is going to build up the lectures throughout the semester. Some brave girls who you assume were highly celebrated by boys in high school took the courage to openly flirt with him, but he didn’t even flinch before shutting all attempts down, not even a blush appeared on his perfectly cut cheekbones.

You thought of ways you’d try to seduce him yourself, but you never actually tried. You never had the balls to actually give it a go and then suffer from the worst embarrassment of your life when he rejects you. So you kept it all to yourself, only entertaining yourself with your elaborate plans about the seduction of your professor.

Second year passed without any classes with Professor Styles, you had only occasionally seen him come and go, rushing down the hallways holding his notebooks to his chest, a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand as he was heading to his lecture hall that you just knew was filled with girls. You always took a moment to yourself to admire his outfit. He has a tendency to pair odd items and make them look like the most put together fit ever that only he can pull off. However, you and your girlfriends always loved to tease him between each other for his grandpa-like sweaters and vests he seemed to love dearly.

“He confuses me, because I want him to fuck me on his desk but also, I feel like he is about to ask me what periodt means because he is too old to understand slang these days,” your friend, Nat said once when your little group was lounging under the huge oak tree between classes and the professor rushed past you, disappearing in the building without paying any of you a look. He wore a pair of beige slacks and a striped sweater, a wrinkly grey shirt peeking from under it at the bottom. The colors and the style overall once again gave you that old people feeling, but then you looked at his handsome face and couldn’t care any less about whatever he was wearing.

The most intimate way you ever saw him was a few days after your twenty-first birthday the summer before your last year of uni started. You just got back from your hometown, the first person to arrive back to your shared flat with Nat and Eden, so you had a few days on your own. You decided to redecorate your room so you took a trip to IKEA, taking your time looking through the set up rooms, just wandering around as you try to figure out what you really want to buy. Walking through the living room section you spotted the professor and first, you didn’t even recognize him.

He was wearing a pair of bright yellow shorts and a short sleeved shirt with floral prints on it, a pair of white framed sunglass on top of his head, keeping his unruly strands out of his face as he was eyeing a couch, seemingly deep in his thoughts. You stopped in your tracks, seeing him in such a casual and everyday setting. For some reason, he seemed like a completely different person.

A woman was there with him and as you walked closer you could hear a fraction of their discussion.

“I don’t know, Gems. Do I need a couch this big?”

“Looks comfy and I like the color. It would also fit in the space just right, I think you should get the bigger one if you have the space for it,” the woman put her two cents in and you wondered who she could be. Girlfriend? Just a casual friend? Maybe fiancé? She did have a ring that could easily go as an engagement ring so you couldn’t tell for sure.

As you were about to walk past you suddenly took the courage to say hi.

“Hello, Professor Styles!” you greeted him with a warm smile and his eyes flickered over to you from the couch in question. One thing you always admired about him is that he never forgot the faces of his students and as he looked at you, you knew he recognized you even if he didn’t know your name specifically.

“Oh, hello,” he nodded in your way.

“I like the couch,” you commented before slowly moving on. “Have a nice rest of your summer!”

“You too, Y/N,” he called after you and it took you by surprise that he remembered your name. Your lecture he taught had almost over a hundred students in it and you weren’t the most active one to stand out that easily, yet he still remembered you more than you were expecting.

That small encounter kept you thinking about him for way longer than you probably should have, especially because you knew you’d have a lecture with him again in the upcoming semester. Your daydreams about him made their way back into your mind as you spent the last days of your summer mostly with your friends. It got you thinking that if you managed to get him to remember your name, maybe you would give one of your plans a go and shoot your shot. He wouldn’t be teaching you in your last semester so you wouldn’t have to face him after he rejects you.

And this is how you came up with your little scheme.

On your last Sunday evening before school starts, you, Nat and Eden sit in the floor of your living room, drinking some white wine as a way of saying goodbye to the carefree summer moments and getting back to the working days of being a senior at uni. Professor Styles came up completely randomly and you let it slip that you’ve just seen him recently at IKEA with a woman and it all led to you admitting that you’ll finally shoot your shot at the professor. Nat and Eden both did the same already, however their attempts were completely ignored and they always bugged you to give it a try yourself, being the only one in your group who hasn’t tried to seduce the professor yet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell me it’s stupid because I actually think it’ll be funny and a little bit genius,” you tell them before you start sharing the details on your plan.

“Just spill the beans already!” Eden pokes you before she reaches for the bottle and refills her glass.

“Okay, so you both know I took this psychology class last semester for extra credits, right?” The nod and you continue. “The teacher told us about this thing called classical conditioning or they call it pavlovian response too. The guy, Pavlov, did an experiment where he paired the feeding of dogs with a bell ring and after a certain amount of time the dogs started salivating at just the sound of the bell, because they remembered that it’s connected to food. The teacher said this is literally one of the easiest tricks to pull on people.”

“Oh, isn’t this one of the things Jim did on Dwight in The Office?” Nat asks furrowing her eyebrows.

“It is!” you nod, glad that they are understanding the base of your plan. “So, I’ve heard that Professor Styles loves strawberry flavored candies. I thought that I would bring some every day when I see him and offer him some. Slowly, he’ll pair the candy with the thought of me and he’ll get excited when he sees me because he’ll think I have candy for him and it will hopefully work the other way around and he’ll think of me when he is eating strawberry flavored candy that’s not from me.”

Your friends blink at you for a moment, processing what you just shared with them before Eden takes a huge sip of her drink.

“This is the most ridiculous but also the most genius thing I’ve ever heard,” she nods holding her glass up towards you.

“I can’t believe you will pull a psychological experiment on Professor Styles,” Nat shakes her head with a soft chuckle.

“It’s not a blunt way to get closer to him and if he accuses me of trying to flirt I can just say that I’ve been only sharing candy with him, I literally did nothing,” you point out, pretty proud of your solution to your deep fear of having to take his rejection publicly.

“If you get a Noble for this shit, make sure to thank us in your speech,” Eden laughs and you promise to do so when the big moment comes.

Monday morning you make a quick trip to Target and buy a big bag of strawberry flavored candies, probably enough to last for the whole semester, and then you make your way to campus. Following your first lecture you meet up with Eden who also signed up for Professor Styles’ lecture this semester, so the two of you make your way towards the lecture hall together.

“I really can’t believe you are doing this,” she chuckles when you get the candy ready as you near the room. The professor is always the first one in the lecture hall so you know you’ll find him there already.

“You can’t tell me it’s not a funny plan,” you smirk at her. And just as you walk in, you immediately spot the professor sitting at the desk at the front, going over the syllabus before the start. “Save a seat for me,” you tell Eden who just laughs and makes her way up the stairs along the desks.

Grabbing the pack of sweets from your bag you walk up to the professor, feeling confident with your plan. He lifts his head up when he notices your arrival and your eyes meet with his green ones.

“Hello, professor. Would you like some candy?” you simply ask with an innocent smile.

Professor Styles stares at you for a moment before his eyes move down to the candy in your hand, the opening of the bag facing him in a welcoming manner.

“I, uhh… what flavor?” he curiously asks and you can barely push down your smirk.

“Strawberry.”

“Oh. I’ll… take one, thank you,” he nods, hand reaching into the bag as he grabs just one single candy, unwrapping the package before he pops it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he nods again with a delightful smile.

“Of course. Did you buy the couch?” you ask, taking slow steps away from the desk as he keeps his eyes on you.

“I… did not. Bought another one,” he admits shortly and you know you’ve reached the limit. If you ask more, he’ll get suspicious, so you just nod smiling before walking up to the spot Eden has reserved for you. When you sit down, you catch the professor paying you one last glance before he returns to what he was previously doing.

“You are a genius, because now we can watch him suck on a fucking candy for the next few minutes,” Eden mumbles quietly, making you laugh.

“I knew this would be a good plan,” you sigh, satisfied with the work you’ve done. Now it’s just a matter of time.

Every Monday and Wednesday, you arrive with the same bag of candy to the lecture hall, walk up to Professor Styles and offer him one. And he always takes one. The first few times he seems hesitant when he spots you approaching him, but he slowly grows used to your tiny act of kindness that occurs every time you see him. On week three you expand the plan. You usually have lunch with Nat on Thursdays since you both have a break between one and two pm. The two of you try to take advantage of the warm early autumn days and sit under the pergola that’s near the building where Professor Styles’ office is as well. It’s mere coincidence, you only like that place because it’s close to the lecture hall you have to go to after lunch, but you notice that the professor emerges from Building C around one thirty, walking back to his office probably after one of his classes. The sidewalk runs directly next to the pergola so it gives you a chance to bring the candy out one more time every week. You nicely greet him when he is nearing the two of you and then hold out the bag, asking if he wants some. He always takes one and thanks you with a sweet smile that leaves you a tad bit blushed.

“I can’t fucking believe your plan is working,” Nat chuckles in disbelief on one occasion when the professor just disappeared in the building, probably happily unwrapping his candy of the day.

“It’s funny, innit?” you grin at her proudly.

Frankly, this is just a fun experiment for you. You don’t actually think that the professor will think of you differently even the slightest. You might be able to plant the thought of you in his head, but that doesn’t instantly mean that he’ll start fancying you and actually do something about it. It would be ridiculously naïve to think it’s going to be you who breaks through the wall that hundreds of women had already tried to knock down.

Week six is what brings the breakthrough. After long consideration and discussion with Nat and Eden, you decide to test if the experiment has been successful. You offer one last candy on Monday, but Wednesday brings the change. You go to lecture without candy. Well, you have it on you, but you decide not to ask him if he wants some.

Walking into the lecture hall, as always, he is already sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a book when you walk up to him with the intention of asking him a question on the paper that’s due next week.

“Professor Styles?” you softly speak up, catching his attention. “Can I have a question about the paper?”

“Of course,” he nods and you can’t tell just yet if he was expecting the candy or not.

“I was wondering if I can use a diagram to visualize my results at the end. I have a brilliant idea to summarize the data with one.”

“Sure, just make sure to give credit wherever it’s due, if you are using someone else’s work for the diagram.”

“Definitely,” you smile at him and wait a moment. That’s where you see the anticipation in his eyes.

His gaze flickers down to your hands and then to your bag where you always carry the candy and when his eyes meet yours again, you see him swallow hard.

He was expecting the candy. Not only expecting, but he started salivating when he saw you, thinking that he would get the candy from you as always.

“Is… that all?” he asks, the slightest hint of hope appearing in his tone, probably waiting for you to pull the bag of candy out of your bag and offer him one. But it’s not happening today.

“Yes, thank you very much,” you nod smiling widely before you turn around and walk away, a shocked and triumphant look appearing on your face once he can’t see it anymore and when Eden sees you, she gasps.

“He fucking expected the candy, didn’t he?!” she whispers at you in shock and you nod frantically, still not believing your plan worked.

“You should have seen the anticipation in his eyes, he really thought I was gonna offer him some!”

“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Eden laughs covering her mouth as the lecture hall starts to fill up slowly.

Turning forward, you see that the professor is sitting behind his desk, the book that had his attention before your arrival is long forgotten in front of him, now he is staring ahead of him with slightly furrowed eyebrows, deep in his thoughts.

Is he thinking about you? Or why he was expecting candy from you?

You see him reach for his water bottle and he takes two big gulps probably to wash away his need for the candy before he narrows his eyes and at last they find you in the auditorium. You tilt your head to the side innocently smiling, as if you know absolutely nothing about anything. You keep eye-contact, forcing you not to be the one who breaks it and he is intimidating. You feel like he can read your mind as he stares at you and when he finally turns his gaze back at the book, you exhale sharply.

The lecture goes down just as usual and when the professor dismisses the class you decide to put the cherry to the top. Walking down between the desks you grab a candy from your bag and while the professor is talking to a girl who also had a question about the paper, you place the candy to his desk next to his book. He doesn’t see you walk out and you don’t see him when he finds it, but something is telling you he figured you out. No way a man as smart as him doesn’t realize what game you’ve been playing with him.

Sitting under the pergola on Thursday you are deep in discussion with Nat, helping her with a task sheet she has to turn in after lunch but she completely forgot about it. As the two of you are trying to do the seemingly endless sheet, you don’t even notice the professor walking from Building C, as always, but he spots you.

“No, I don’t think that’s even a thing, you can’t write that,” you tell Nat, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a thing, I just want to fill in the whole thing so the teacher doesn’t think I finished it in twenty minutes before class,” she mumbles, scribbling down her answer as you just chuckle at her.

Suddenly, you see a pair of dusty Vans appear in your sight and as your eyes move up, you are facing none other than Professor Styles, standing right in front of you, holding out his hand with his hand turned upwards, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips. His appearance takes you by surprise and for a moment you just dumbly stare down at his palm, then up at his eyes.

“Very smart. Pulling a pavlovian on me with my favorite candy,” he speaks up, dropping his hand as he cocks his head to the side. Nat looks up from her sheet with wide eyes as you stare at the professor with blushing cheeks.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, professor,” you tell him with a knowing smirk.

“Of course. You know, it took me a moment to realize yesterday, but I wanted to let you know that… I think it was clever.”

“If I knew anything about what you’re talking about… I would say thank you. But I stand up for my innocence.”

“Surely,” he chuckles softy. “Have a great rest of your week,” he then nods before turning around to walk away, but you quickly reach into your bag and grab a candy.

“Professor Styles!” you call out and he turns back just in time to catch the candy you throw in his way. He glances at it in his palm before his eyes snap up to you again, smirking at you shortly before he disappears in the building.

“Okay, call me stupid, but I could feel the sexual tension between the two of you,” Nat says as soon as the professor is out of sight.

“Don’t be silly, it was just… a joke and he liked it.”

“He called you clever, Y/N!”

“No, he called my trick clever.”

“But you came up with it so you’re clever too. Say whatever you want, but I actually think you have a shot at him.”

“I definitely don’t,” you laugh shaking your head and you genuinely believe it. Nat scoffs before she gets back to her sheet, but not without having one last thought about the situation.

“We’ll be laughing at how you brainwashed him into liking you when you’ll be dating for years, living together and all that shit.”

You’ve made some very questionable choices in your dating life prior. Like when you dated a boy in high school and let him take your virginity at the back of his mom’s minivan just to break up with your right after that, or when you briefly dated the guy you met at the mall, but it later turned out he was gay and he used you as his cover up in front of his family. But the worst decision of all was dating an egoistic forty years old loser who just freshly got divorced and went after you at some tacky bar you were at with your friends.

The time you spent dating Victor is way less than the time he has been bothering you, trying to make you go back to him when you’ve actually told him you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. You broke up with him just before you went home for the summer and he didn’t take it well, even drove up to your hometown and showed up at your parents’ house drunk, begging for you to take him back. He never stood a chance, not after that one time he slapped you across the face during a fight the two of you had. You tolerate a lot of things but not violence and you don’t believe him when he says it was just a onetime thing. There’s no guarantee he won’t hit you ever again and you are definitely not waiting around to see if he told you the truth.

On this particular late October evening you are searching through your whole room looking for a book you know you have, but can’t seem to find anywhere. It’s your holy bible about research methodology and you need it for your thesis work, but it seems like the small apartment has completely swallowed it.

“Didn’t you leave it at Victor’s? You were working on that long essay when you were dating him, saw you use the book all the time,” Eden tells you when you ask her if she’s seen it anywhere and then it clicks.

She is right, now you remember leaving the book at his once and you completely forgot to pick it up after things got nasty between the two of you.

“Damn it,” you growl in annoyance.

Not feeling like calling him, you send him a quick text, hoping he still has it and hasn’t burned it after one of your fights.

Y/N: Hey, I think I left my research methodology book at yours. You still have it?

Victor: I do.

Y/N: Cool, can I drop by to pick it up?

Victor: I’m leaving for work, you can come to the bar if you want it.

You sigh in defeat. Victor is a bartender at a place that’s all the way across town, takes almost an entire hour to get there, but you are left with no other choice.

Y/N: Okay, I’ll see you there.

The raining has finally stopped this morning so you feel better leaving the house than you would have if it was still pouring. You take the bus and travel across town, feeling anxious to see Victor again. Last time you met him he cursed you out and threw his phone at you, barely missing your head. You promised yourself you wouldn’t go near him again after that, but it seems like you can never get completely rid of him.

Students rarely come to this part of the town, it’s way too far from campus and has nothing to offer that can’t be found closer to the dormitories or the school’s buildings. It’s not entirely your scene either, the bars around here are liked by older generations, not by people your age, this is another reason why you don’t like coming around here.

The bar where Victor works is a place where they have different local bands perform every Friday and Saturday. It’s not a tacky nook with creepy dudes, they actually have prices on the higher end, not something you can necessarily afford with your part time job’s paycheck from the small accounting office near your apartment where you work as an assistant on your free afternoons.

Walking into the place you immediately spot Victor behind the bar and you take a deep breath before you walk up to him.

“Hey,” you call out for him, taking one of the stools along the bar.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

“Happens when you break up with someone,” you respond with a little spice and he frowns at your words. “Can you give me the book?”

“I’ll have a break in ten, can you wait for that or you have something extra urgent shit to do, as always?” You can tell he is still bitter from how things ended between the two of you, but you’ve learned not to care about it. His way of dealing with the breakup is not your responsibility, no matter how hard he is trying to prove it wrong.

You roll your eyes but nod, knowing well there’s no use to fight him. Ten minutes is not the end of the world. Busying yourself on your phone, you try to stay unnoticed and luckily, Victor can’t keep chatting with you, because customers keep coming up to him and ordering drinks. When he finally has his break he tells you to follow him to the back.

“So how have you been?” he asks as you walk down the hallway that leads to the small break room, there’s an office at the end and some kind of changing room you guess for the bands, along with a storage.

“Fine.”

“You really gonna be a bitter bitch and not talk to me?” he asks you, giving you a disgusted look, but you know it’s just the anger talking from him.

“Victor, I didn’t come here to talk, I just need my book!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t answer my question.”

“I answered it! I’ve been fine, now give me the damn book!” you growl, losing your patience with him, but he is seemingly in the same shoes.

“When will you stop being a bitch and just drop this ridiculous act, Y/N? I’ve been after you for months yet you keep ignoring me!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m ignoring you because I don’t want anything to do with you? Victor, it’s been months, just… move the fuck on! Go cry to your ex-wife or something, I don’t care!”

You didn’t mean to snap, but he always brings the worst out of you. From the corner of your eyes you can see movement at the other end of the hallway where the changing room is, but you don’t get to pay much attention to it, because the next moment Victor grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! You ungrateful slut, I swear…”

There’s little you can do, he is twice as big as you are, his grip on your arm so strong there’s no doubt it will leave a mark. Your heart is racing as you try to pull yourself out of his hold, but he doesn’t even bat an eye at your attempt.

However, before he could drag you into the empty breakroom to do god knows what, he is stopped by a voice.

“Hey! Let her go!”

If you weren’t shocked enough at his violent reaction, now you are definitely think you’re going nuts, because it’s none other than Professor Styles who is now nearing you with a hard expression on his face, two other guys following right behind him and though none of them are bigger than Victor, he knows he can’t just start a fight with three men.

Your chest is heaving when the professor finally reaches you and Victor’s hold lets go of you, making you fall back a little.

“You perform here twice and think you’re some kind of rockstar?” Victor spats at the professor, but you’re a little lost in what’s really going on. Professor Styles gently grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, eyes never leaving Victor’s burning gaze.

“You alright?” one of the other two men asks and you nod, not finding your voice to actually speak.

“Get the hell out of my sight before I call the police on you,” the professor answers in a calm yet threatening voice

Victor takes a second to himself, thinking about the choices he has before he turns around and disappears in the breakroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you in complete shock about what just happened.

Professor Styles then turns around, his eyes soften at seeing how shaken you are and quite frankly, you feel like you are in a bad and quite weird dream.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, clearly worried about you and you just shake your head no.

“I-I’m fine, I think,” you mumble out of breath.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the guy who asked if you’re alright suggests and you nod in agreement, following them kind of blindly, the three of them keeping you in their little circle as you walk out to the bar and they don’t stop until you are out of the place in the cold night air. You slowly come back to reality and process that Professor Styles just saved you out of fucking nowhere from your abusive asshole ex. That’s what you call a plot twist.

You finally take a moment to look at the other two guys, they both look the same age as the professor, or maybe a little older, both of them are rocking some facial hair, the one that asked you seems a little more open while the other one quite reserved but friendly looking.

“What… What were you doing back there?” you ask, turning to face the professor. He clearly seems upset, but you’re not sure if it’s entirely because of what happened with Victor back then or because you are standing outside some random bar on a Saturday night, definitely crossing his personal boundaries he keeps so high at school.

“We played here tonight, was just about to leave when I saw you.”

“You have a band?” you ask, shocked at the detail.

“A pretty good one,” the talkative guy chuckles. “I’m Adam, nice to meet you. This is Mitch.”

You shake hands with them introducing yourself as well.

“Y/N is… my student,” the professor adds as if he is clearing the air for his bandmates, a kind of warning for them.

From the direction of the parking lot two women emerge, laughing on something as they walk up to the four of you, both of them eyeing you curiously.

“Hey boys, who is this pretty girl?”

“Sarah, Charlotte, this is Y/N, she is my student. Y/N, these are my other band mates, Sarah and Charlotte,” the professor introduces you as you shake hands with them quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends, professor,” you shyly apologize, feeling like a complete intruder all of a sudden with all his bandmates around you.

“Interrupt? Sweetheart, that dude was about to do some unforgivable things to you, don’t apologize for needing help,” Adam snorts. “You’re lucky we were there.”

“What? What happened?” Sarah asks in confusion.

“Just… my asshole ex got a little too violent when I didn’t want to chit-chat with him,” you admit with a defeated sigh.

“Oh shit, but are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile faintly, though you still can feel his grip on your upper arm. “I, um… I better get going, I guess. Thank you for… the saving,” you say, a little lost about what should be said in this situation.

“You’re leaving? We were just about to go to a much better place, why don’t you come with us, forget about your ex a little?” Charlotte offers and you catch the professor’s panicked look for a split second.

“I, um… I don’t think I should, but thank you.”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Sarah questions.

“Because I know how Professor Styles hates to mingle with students outside of lectures and I don’t want to cross any lines,” you truthfully admit. The professor furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t hate mingling with students,” he states.

“Well, you are surely not the most reachable professor on campus,” you chuckle lightly. “But it’s fine, I understand it. So I’ll just head home.”

“Come on, Harry. Let her tag along for just one drink!” Sarah begs and seemingly everyone would be happy to have you join for a little. The professor’s eyes meet yours, as if he is contemplating whether he should say yes or let you go home. When he finally speaks up you’re more surprised than when you realized it was him saving you from Victor.

“I guess you could use a drink after what happened in there,” he says, the tiniest smirk showing on his lips as your eyes shoot up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he nods and your little group heads down the street.

Turns out the place they were heading to was just two corners down, so they left all their stuff at the minivan at the parking lot for the time being. You slide into an empty booth, Adam and Mitch go to get the first round, so it’s just the three of you girls and the professor.

“So you’re in one of Harry’s lectures?” Charlotte asks with a warm smile.

“Yeah, for the second time, actually. Had him in first year, now it’s my fifth semester and I had no doubt I have to take his class if I have the chance.” You pay a glance at him, but he is staring at his hands on his lap, you can’t tell if it’s because he is uncomfortable with you there or if it’s something else.

“It’s so funny, because we’ve heard that he is known to be a good teacher but we never actually heard it from one of his students,” Sarah chuckles. “What’s he like?”

“Sarah, you enjoy talking about me when I’m very much present?” he scoffs, giving her a look, but she just shrugs innocently.

“Come on, I bet even you’re curious about what your students think of you. Now is your time to find it out!”

“I think Professor Styles knows very well that he is one of the best, if not the actual best,” you truthfully say and see him raise his eyebrows a little.

“What makes him so good?” Charlotte questions.

You glance at him again, as a way of asking for permission if you can answer. You definitely don’t want to make him even more uncomfortable by talking about him when he is right next to you. He looks into your eyes, and his expression tells you that he wants to hear your answer as well, but he quickly adds:

“You don’t have to answer, Y/N.”

“It’s not a secret,” you admit it with a smile. “Professor Styles’ lectures always leave you with a question to think about until next week, he is great at getting into your head without you even noticing. He explains the most complicated things in so simple ways, it should be taught,” you say with a soft chuckle. “I think his enormous knowledge about many different fields in science and just life in general is amusing, anyone can learn something from him, it’s guaranteed.”

“Wow, where is this academic genius side of yours when you’re around us, or we only get to see the dad joke version of you?” Sarah teases him and you can’t push down a laugh, imagining him cracking dad jokes feels so alien but still kind of fitting for him.

“That’s what you get when you’re a nosy little thing,” he retorts with a small smirk. He then turns to you, and as Sarah and Charlotte are laughing on something, he lowly tells you: “You can call me Harry outside of school. Feels weird that you call me professor when my friends are around.��

“You sure?”

He nods and you spot a small smile on his lips. He must be getting used to the feel of you being there, but you still don’t want to push his limits too much.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course.”

“If your ex is this aggressive, why were you there with him?”

His question is surprising, you didn’t think he would ask you something personal, but you guess it’s a valid question after he just saved you from Victor.

“I wanted to get a book back that I left at his place. Didn’t even get to the point where he could have given it back,” you mumble under your breath.

“What book?”

“Just this… research methodology book, wanted it back for my thesis work, but I guess I’ll have to buy a new one,” you huff bitterly.

“Is it the one written by William Scott?”

“Y-Yeah, it is. You know it?” you ask, but then realize it’s a bit of a dumb question. He probably knows every academically important book you will ever come across.

“I actually have it myself,” he nods. Just then, Mitch and Adam return with the drinks and you thank them for the beer, already reaching for your money to pay, but Adam shakes his head.

“It’s on me, don’t worry.”

You watch as Mitch sits beside Sarah, curling an arm around her shoulders and though you couldn’t have guessed that they are a couple, seeing them like this it actually makes sense, they look cute together.

You take a sip from your beer, trying to join the conversation Sarah and Charlotte are having, when your attention is pulled back by Harry.

“I can… lend you the book, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll just get a new one.”

“No, really. I think I even have two copies, I can give one to you.”

“I couldn’t ask you that, prof—I mean Harry.”

“You’re not asking,” he smiles at you softly. “I probably won’t need both, so why not put the extra into use?”

“Okay, but I’ll pay for it,” you insist, but Harry shakes his head.

“No need, one of them was a gift so I didn’t pay for it either.”

“Well… if you’re sure about it, I would love to have that extra copy, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So Y/N, what do you study exactly?” Adam questions, pulling you out of your little discussion with Harry.

“I’m majoring in anthropology, but I’ve been taking some psychology classes on the side just because I’m interested in the topics.”

“And what is Harry teaching you?”

“Had him for intro Sociology lecture first year, now I’m in his Methodology of Cultural Anthropology class.”

“All these subjects with their GY endings, I don’t know how you two put up with science on this level,” Sarah huffs in amusement.

“The names sometimes sound fancier than the subject itself,” you tell her smiling.

“But I bet you need to be quite smart to study these stuff on this level you are at.”

“Oh, it’s just a bachelorette degree, I wouldn’t say I’m that smart,” you chuckle shyly.

“She is totally toning it down,” Harry speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. “I know students tend to take my into Sociology class for just some extra credits so I always give them two options for the semester. They can either write a two pages long review of any article related to the topics talked about at lecture and get their strong C with the bare minimum, or actually participate and do a research of their own and turn in an at least seven pages long essay about their chosen topic. Y/N turned in an eleven pages long paper on the history of death sentences in the U.S. in the last fifty years and how society is thinking about it nowadays. It was easily one of the best works I’ve ever read and it was just an intro class.”

“You remember my essay?” you ask in complete shock.

“Of course. As I said, one of the bests I’ve read,” he nods confidently.

“So you’re like… on Harry’s smart level, actually?” Sarah asks, tilting her head to the side and you can feel yourself blushing.

You’ve always been said to be the smart kid at school, but you never thought it to be true yourself. In your book, you were just doing your absolute best, soaking in whatever knowledge was thrown in your way. You never actually understood how someone could just not study for an exam or not do an assignment, because you always felt like it was your duty to do the best you can. You thought yourself to be more of a hard-working student rather than a smart one.

“She is definitely a bright one,” Harry agrees, his eyes meeting yours as a small smile appears on his lips and you think that this is the biggest compliment you’ve ever gotten. “She actually tricked me with a psychological experiment and I didn’t even realize it,” he laughs and you can’t hold your smirk back.

“What? What did you do?” Charlotte asks, dying to know how you played Harry.

“Have you heard of the Pavlovian response?” you ask looking around and you can tell it rings a bell for all of them.

“The one with the dogs and the bell?” Mitch asks and you nod.

“Wait you did that on Harry?” Adam laughs with wide eyes and you just nod with a sly smile.

“I just offered him strawberry flavored candies every time I saw him. Took me six weeks to build up the response but he actually started expecting it whenever he saw me,” you tell them chuckling to yourself.

“And I only realized it when she stopped with the candy and I felt this massive feeling that something was missing,” Harry adds shaking his head with a soft laugh.

“Okay, that’s hilarious,” Sarah snorts clapping her hands together. “Y/N, I adore you, you’re brilliant!”

“It was just… an experiment,” you shrug shyly.

The night carries much faster than you realize. One drink turns into three and before you could realize, it’s already past midnight. Eden texts you, asking where you are since you said you’d just get the book and go home right away, but it’s been hours.

Y/N: Don’t freak out, but I’m at a bar with Prof. Styles and his friends. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow!

Eden: HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT AFTER READING THIS???!?!

Y/N: Lol, chill. Nothing extra is happening.

Eden: It’s already extra that you’re out with him.

Realizing how late it is, you decide you better get going, since it’s a long way back home. When you tell the little group that you’re about to head out, they all agree that it’s time to part ways and leave, so you all slowly make your way back to the parking lot.

“Do you know where the bus stop is back?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, trying to spot where you should be heading.

“You want to go home by bus at this time?” Harry asks.

“Well, I surely won’t pay for a ride, I live almost an hour away from here.”

“An hour?” he frowns. “I’ll take you home, come on,” he tells you, heading towards the minivan.

“What? No need. The bus is fine,” you protest, but he shakes his head.

“You are not taking the bus at this hour, not under my watch,” he simply states and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Didn’t realize I was under your watch,” you tease him and it seems like your comment caught him off-guard. “Don’t piss your pants, I was just joking,” you tell him, and thought for a second you feel like you are being way too comfortable around him, his smile quickly smashes your doubts.

Sarah, Mitch and Charlotte all take an Uber since they live near each other and Adam is picked up by his wife, so when everyone is off to their own way, you and Harry get in the van and head to your place.

“How long have you had the band?” you ask, in need to break the silence that’s been weighing down on the two of you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” you add quickly when you see him.

“About four years. Used to have another one, but we parted ways.”

“And what do you do in the band?”

“I, uhh… Well I mostly sing but I also play the guitar.”

“You know, I’m not that surprised you can sing,” you chuckle to yourself sinking further down in your seat.

“How come?”

“You have a voice that’s great to listen to at lectures, makes sense that you can sing as well.”

You take a moment to look at his hand that’s gripping the steering wheel, he is the kind that drives with one hand on the wheel, the other one on the shifting gear. He makes it look so easy as he steers the wheel whenever he is turning a corner while his other one easily moves around the shifting gear, his tattoos are peeking from under his rolled up shirt sleeve. He catches you staring and you feel a blush burning on your cheeks as you turn your head to the other side. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that third beer…

“Am I really seen that rigid by the students?” he speaks up after a while and you turn back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“You said I’m known about not mingling with students.”

“Well, you don’t mingle, do you? But it doesn’t mean you come off as rigid. More like… closed-off. Private.”

“I know I should be a little friendlier, but I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I think everyone gets it why you’re like that.”

“Do they?” he arches an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously a ladies’ favorite, but it doesn’t sit well with you being a person of some sort of power. It’s clear that you don’t want anyone to get the wrong picture about you. I’ve seen how bluntly girls are flirting with you, some of them are quite scandalous if you ask me,” you huff to yourself. “I totally get it that you don’t want even just a rumor to spread about you.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious,” he admits, running his tongue over his lips.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still a highly fancied professor, in all means,” you tell him with a warm smile.

“Does this mean you also fancy me?” he suddenly questions and your lips part at his words. He quickly realizes how ambiguous he just sounded. “I mean, am I one of your favorites? Where do I stand in your chart of professors?”

You can’t tell for sure because of the lack of lighting, but you could have sworn there’s a light blush on his cheeks as he corrects himself. Because of this, you don’t know for sure if he really meant it academically. Either way, the answer is the same.

“You’re my favorite,” you confidently state and your eyes meet for a moment before he turns back to face the road.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, you keep giving him directions to your place until you finally arrive a little before one am.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” you smile at him, grabbing the door handle.

“See you on Monday,” he nods shortly and watches as you get out of the can.

“Yeah, see you, professor,” you smirk before shutting the door and walking up the stairs and disappearing in your building.

“Was that Professor Styles in the fucking minivan?!” Nat throws the question at you the moment you open the front door.

“Jesus, why are you still up?” you sigh, shutting the door and shimmying yourself out of your coat.

“Because we were waiting for you!” Eden rolls her eyes. “So, care to tell us what the fuck just happened?” The three of you get comfortable on the couch and you give them a quick rundown of your evening from meeting Victor through being saved by Harry right to him offering to drive you home and they listen to you with wide eyes in complete shock that you just spent your entire evening with the most handsome professor on campus who also happens to be the most private as well.

“If I didn’t see him sitting in that van with my own eyes I would straight up think you’re lying, but I saw his tattooed hand over the windshield,” Nat gasps, processing the story.

“I know, I still feel like it didn’t happen, but it did.”

“And what is he like around his friends? What are his friends like?” Eden questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

“He is pretty much just like in lecture, just jokes a little more and he has a looser vocab. His friends are hilarious, I really got along with Sarah.”

“I know you still think it won’t happen, but I actually think you have a shot at him, Y/N,” Eden points it out and you just chuckle.

“Why, because he saved me from my douche ex?”

“No, because he let you stay for the night with him and his friends. This is literally the first ever time a student hung out with him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry is a reserved and private person—“

“Harry?!” they gasp at the same time.

“You are now just casually calling him Harry?” Nat asks with ogling eyes.

“Well, yes, he asked me to, because it felt weird that I was calling him Professor Styles with his friends around.”

“Okay, I’m giving it… let’s say, he seems to be moving pretty slow, but y’all will be fucking in about six months,” Nat bluntly tells you and it makes you laugh.

“Oh, sure, whatever. I’m gonna shower and head to bed, you two don’t get too crazy with your fairytales,” you wave at them before disappearing in the bathroom.

The rest of the weekend goes by uneventfully, outside of the pathetic attempt from Victor to get you to talk to him, but you’ve had enough of him for a life so you finally block his number and hope you won’t ever see him again.

Both you and Eden oversleep on Monday morning, skipping your early morning lecture and already being late for Harry’s class as well, so you barely make it to Harry’s class in time, just sprinting up the rows, flopping down to your usual seats when Harry starts the lecture. It all goes as usual as if nothing really happened during the weekend, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Glancing over at his desk you spot the book he promised you and you can’t hold your smile back. Still grinning, your eyes accidentally meet with his gaze and he stops for a heartbeat as if he is questioning why you are so smiley, but you just shake your head and he carries on before anyone could suspect a thing.

“I gotta run, my favorite TA is having his office hours now and I have a few questions for him. See you at home?” Eden asks once the lecture is over and you are getting ready to leave.

“Sure, have a good day!” you call after her and she sings a ‘you too!’ before running out of the room.

You pack up and head down between the rows, Harry spotting you right away and you go up to him without him even asking you to.

“Hey, sorry we were a little late to class this morning,” you tell him and he just shakes his head kindly.

“No worries. How… is your arm?” He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze wandering down to your forearm where Victor grabbed you on Saturday.

“Oh, it’s fine. I just have a little bruise,” you shrug, because it really isn’t that big deal, but you can tell Harry is still outraged by what happened.

“M’sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Would be worse if you weren’t there,” you smile at him kindly and he nods to himself before turning to his desk.

“I, uhh, I brought the book we talked about,” he shyly says grabbing it from the desk. As people are exiting the room you can feel the glares on yourself, most of them are probably trying to figure out why Harry is talking to you for so long, but you don’t pay much attention to them as you take the book he hands you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for it?”

“No need, keep it, it’s yours,” he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Thank you then.” You slide the book into your bag before looking back up at him. “Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday, professor,” you smile warmly before heading out.

“See you!” he calls after you before you close the door behind you.

The week carries on as usual, you are working on papers that needs to be turned in before the fall break so you spend some extra time at the library, using every bit of free time you have so you finish everything on time.

Things go back to kind of normal with Harry, he greets you in the mornings when you walk into the lecture hall and other than the warm smile he occasionally gives you, nothing has changed.

Friday however brings a surprise, but not from Harry. You’re sitting at work in the afternoon, typing away on your computer, filling in some sheets when you get a notification on your phone from Instagram.

Sarah Jones is now following you!

You tap on her profile but see that it’s private so without a second thought you request following. Luckily, she approves you only a few seconds later and you gain access to her posts, quite a few of them featuring Harry on them.

Photos of birthdays, weekend getaways, band practices and performances, Harry makes a lot of appearances on her feed and you find yourself scrolling all the way down until you reach the first few posts from 2016. Just as you are about to leave her profile you get a message from her.

Sarah: Hey Y/N! Charlotte and I’ve been talking about you recently, loved having you with us last Saturday! Want to grab a drink with the two of us this weekend?

Y/N: Would love to, but I’m not sure Harry would like the idea…

Sarah: He won’t be there and besides, who is he to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with?

She is right. You enjoyed spending time with them as well and Harry has little to no word in if you want to meet up with his friends or not. This invitation has no connection to him being your professor.

Y/N: Alright, I’m down!

This is how your friendship with Sarah and Charlotte starts. You meet up with them on Saturday and have an amazing time, they are definitely fun people to spend time with and though at first you feel hesitant to get closer to them, you soon forget about your doubts and just enjoy your time with them.

Your little girls night goes so well that they invite you out for dinner on Wednesday with Mitch joining the little trio. You learn that he is a quiet but hilarious guy, he and Sarah make a great couple, you think.

“We have a gig this Saturday at Green Light, want to come?” Charlotte asks at the end of the dinner.

“Okay, I really don’t think Harry would be a fan of that idea,” you point out, feeling like it’s surely over the lines. He still doesn’t know about you meeting some of his friends without him and you’re not sure how he would react if he did.

“Harry can fuck off, not everything is about him. We are inviting you as our friends, he just happens to be in the band as well,” Sarah rolls her eyes, clearly not as bothered by the situation as you are.

“I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“He is a big boy, he’ll get himself over it, don’t worry. So, are you coming?”

“I guess, alright,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

Next week you contemplate telling Harry that Sarah invited you out for their gig, but at last you decide against it, something is telling you he would try to talk you down and now you’re pretty hyped to see them perform. So you keep quiet and just brace yourself for the worst when Saturday comes.

You don’t overdress for the occasion, decide to wear some light washed mom jeans and a simple sweater tucked into it, a casual look for a night out.

Even when you’re on your way to the place you are having second guesses whether it’s a good idea or not, but you tell yourself it’s not that big of a deal and if Harry flips, you’ll just tell him you came for Sarah and Charlotte.

As you get off the bus and walk towards the place, you immediately spot the little group of three next to Harry’s minivan, Sarah waving in your way as you become visible in the streetlights.

“There she is!” she beams happily and you just chuckle at her.

Harry is standing with his back facing your way but seeing Sarah’s reaction he turns around and you swear for a moment you think he is about to faint when he spots you.

“Hey everyone,” you smile as Sarah pulls you into a hug and Charlotte does the same.

“Hey, if it isn’t our little trouble seeker!” Adam teases you and you just roll your eyes at him before shyly glancing at Harry who is standing on your left, awfully quiet and deep in his thoughts since your arrival. He feels your eyes on him and his gaze meets yours and just by one look you can tell he is pissed.

Just as you thought.

The group chats a little longer outside before Adam suggests they head inside and get ready for their start and you are just about to follow them, but Harry keeps you back.

“Y/N, can we have a word?”

Staying back you nod, hiding your hands in your coat’s pockets as you look at him, lips curled into your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” he questions, eyebrows knitted together and he looks so damn intimidating, the neon lights from the front of the building tinting part of his face green, but you think red would suit him better with this look.

“I… came to see the band playing, what do you mean?”

“Is this your sneaky way of trying to come after me? Because I thought we had a very clear discussion about my thoughts regarding situations like this and you seemed to understand it.”

He comes off way angrier than you think he should be. Yes, it might be uncomfortable for him to see you here, but the tone he just hit is way too harsh for your liking and professor or not, you are not letting anyone talk to you like that when it’s completely not relevant.

“Okay, calm down. First of all, I was invited here.”

“By who?” he spats.

“Sarah and Charlotte, we met last weekend and had dinner this week as well. Had a great time and they asked me to come tonight as well, so get off of your high horse, I’m not here for you.” You can see the change on his face as the information sinks in and he realizes he accused you wrongly, but you’re not quite done with him. “But if I was here to see you, why does that bother you so much? You can’t avoid meeting students every minute when you’re off-campus. If I came here because of you, it shouldn’t affect you this much if you weren’t worried about something else than me just being here,” you point out and he furrows his eyebrows at you. “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re afraid to be around me because you actually like me, huh!” you tell him with an innocent yet suggesting look. His eyes widen and the confidence in himself quickly vanishes from him, replaced by anxiety and nervous looks as he realizes the meaning behind your words.

“I-I, that’s not—I’m not—“

“Take a breath before you pass out, Harry,” you sigh, dropping the hard act. “I didn’t come here for you and if you want to know I actually thought a lot about canceling because of you. But I genuinely like spending time with Sarah and Charlotte so I’m here as their friend.”

Harry stares back at you, completely defeated, regret filling his green eyes. You feel a little guilty for snapping so hard at him, after all you do understand his point of view, but you genuinely don’t think it’s as big of a deal as he makes it to be.

“I-I’m…”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just… move past it, alright?” you suggest and he nods as the two of you head inside, joining the rest of the group.

You stay behind while they are waiting for their time to perform, keeping some distance from Harry so he can’t accuse you again, but you occasionally look his way, catching him already looking at you, but you just can’t tell what could be possibly going on in his head. When it’s time for them to go on stage, you go out to the actual bar area and sit by the counter, not too much at the front but close enough to see everything that happens on the stage.

When they start playing you can’t take your eyes off Harry. His energy behind the microphone just knocks you off the stool and you watch him completely mesmerized as if he has put a spell on you. It feels like he turns into an entirely different person on stage, nothing like the man you see at lectures every Monday and Wednesday. He sings perfectly on key, putting some extra charm into the songs with his little additional tunes whenever he is not singing a line.

But what makes it absolutely impossible to look away from him is because he keeps staring at you, eyes locking with yours for way too long every time he catches your gaze. You try to ignore it, but it’s quite hard when his eyes are basically burning into you, it leaves you breathless.

Once the concert is over you order yourself two tequila shots quickly, because something is telling you that you’ll need the boosting if you want to face Harry after his little performance.

But for your surprise, when you join the band again and get near him, nothing really happens. It seems like Harry has come to peace with your presence in his little group of friends and he actually treats you like you’re part of the circle.

The six of you occupy a table at the back of the bar to spend there the rest of the evening and it’s all good, it seems. A harmless night out with a bunch of friends, nothing extra. Harry actually strikes up conversations with you involved and you feel like you’ve overcome a banter finally.

“Do you need a ride home?” Harry asks at the end of the night when everyone is about to head home.

“Only if it’s fine by you.”

“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t,” he smiles shortly before the two of you say goodbye to the rest of the group and head to his van that was previously loaded with their stuff.

The ride back to your place is now much shorter, it takes less than ten minutes to arrive and you are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up.

“I want to apologize for the way I reacted to your arrival earlier tonight. It was… unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry for what I said after that too.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he shakes his head, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t be sorry for saying something that’s true.”

It feels like all air is knocked out of you as his words process and you stare at him with parted lips and raised eyebrows. When he finally looks up at you, he looks so lost and tortured, you feel the urge to hug him, but you stay still as he continues talking.

“I got mad because I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very… confusing for me. And this is why I’m gonna be very straightforward with you now. I can tell Sarah and Charlotte like you a lot and they are stubborn, they won’t see the situation from my point of view and I’m no one to tell you if you can hang out with us or not. But what I can most certainly tell you is that nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N. You are very much welcomed to spend more time with us, but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

For a couple of moments you’re only able to stare back at him, blinking completely frozen at his sudden confession. You could tell tonight has been a turning point of some kind, but you were not expecting this speech from him at all and now you are at a complete loss of words. It takes some time before you actually find your voice.

“Okay,” is all you can breathe out, nothing more, but it’s pretty much all you have to tell him. You won’t go against his will and force him to do something he doesn’t want. He deserves the respect.

He nods shortly, seemingly still very torn about the situation and you figure it’s better if you just leave now.

“Thank you for the ride,” you quietly tell him opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N,” you hear him before you shut the door and walk into your building, feeling like you’ve been just hit by a pile of bricks.

Unlike the last time when Harry brought you home, Nat and Eden are not waiting for you in the living room. Nat is probably already asleep and Eden went out for a date earlier and she hasn’t been back. You don’t bother to turn the lights on as you walk inside, just kick your boots off and hang your coat before collapsing onto the couch, just staring into the darkness, Harry’s words repeating in your head again and again.

“… I do like you and seeing you outside of school is very confusing for me.”

“… nothing will happen between us. I’m very serious about this, Y/N.”

“… but I want you to know that it won’t go further than this.”

Harry, your professor, The Harry Styles admitted that he likes you but also told you pretty forward that nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. It still feels like a fever dream and you’re not sure how you are feeling about it just yet. Hanging out with him was already quite overwhelming, but you were not expecting this confession from him at all.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he is so set on not taking any further steps, why did he even share it with you? He could have just easily keep his thoughts and feelings to himself and get away with it without you ever figuring it out. It doesn’t make sense.

For the first time in your life, something Harry Styles said doesn’t make sense. That’s new.

Following Harry’s confession you truly have no idea what to do, so you just go with the flow. He seemingly stays the same when it comes to you, friendly, but still keeping his distance. Nothing changes in the lecture hall, he just occasionally asks if you’re alright and you are guessing he only wants to know if you are having any trouble with Victor, but you haven’t even heard from him since you’ve blocked his number and you hope it’s going to stay like that.

You meet up with him and the band a few times outside of school and it’s not necessarily awkward, but you can tell he is keeping his distance from you, he never sits next to you or has one-on-one conversations with you, only if it’s necessary. The only time he dares to be alone with you is when he sometimes offers you to drive you home. You usually say no at first, but he insists, so you end up sitting in silence in the car until you arrive home, say goodbye and end of story.

No one in school even suspects that you’ve made your way into Harry’s group of friends, only Nat and Eden knows about it but they swore to keep it a secret, but you didn’t tell them about Harry’s confession. Whatever it is that’s happening between you and Harry, you would never put him into a situation he is trying to avoid so badly. You sit in his classes like everyone else, but while all the other girls are drooling over him, trying to get just slightly closer to him in any way possible, you sit in silence and think about the precious times when you get to see him outside of school.

Even with him being so distant towards you, you can’t help but slowly start falling for him. He doesn’t have to talk to you or be direct to you, it’s enough that you see him as himself, you see him with his friends, how he acts whenever he is not teaching, standing on the podium. And he is an amazing person, there’s no doubt about that.

The semester is gradually moving forward, once you get back from fall break, you basically move into the library, studying for your exams and finishing up all your papers. December arrives pretty fast and before you realize, the whole town is decorated with lights and Christmas trees everywhere, the shops are trying to lure customers in with all the sales and the Christmas shopping officially starts.

One weekend, when there’s only two weeks left of school before everyone heads home for the holidays, you and Nat go for a shopping trip, trying to buy every gift in time so you don’t have to worry about that at least last minute.

Wandering around the mall you naturally take a trip to the bookstore, always ready to buy something new to read. Nat dives into the cooking books wanting to get one for her mother while you’re just aimlessly looking through the shelves. As your eyes are running through the titles in the psychology department, you stop at one particular book, pulling it off the shelf as you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The secrets of Classical Conditioning.

You flip through the pages and though it doesn’t seem to be a groundbreaking work, it’s just explaining Pavlov’s experiment and further uses of it, you still decide to buy it.

That evening you sit at your desk, the book open in front of you, a pen next to it as you try to think of something to write into it. At first you just wanted to give it to Harry as it is, but you figured it would be a nice gesture to write a few words into it he could always read when he opens the book. After some consideration, you finally grab the pen and start writing.

Dear Harry,

I will always think of you whenever I hear of Mr. Ivan Petrovics Pavlov or Classical Conditioning. Thank you for another amazing semester and I’m happy I got to see you without standing on a podium. You are an amazing man, never change.

Happy holidays,

Y/N

Last week of school, you go to the Wednesday lecture, the last one of the semester with the book sitting in your bag. All through the 90 minutes class as Harry is having an open discussion about the lecture with the students, you keep debating whether you should give him the book or not. When the lecture is over and Harry wishes everyone happy holidays, you grab it from your bag and holding it to your chest you wait until there’s only a few people in the room. Eden has already left to hand in a paper so you walk down the rows on your own, eyes on the man behind his desk who is now packing up his papers and notes, getting ready to leave.

“Harry?” you faintly speak his name, grabbing his attention as he looks up at you from behind the desk. You glance down at the book in your hands and before you could change your mind, you place it down in front of him. “This is… for you.”

His gaze wanders down to the book, then back at you as he stares at you in awe, obviously surprised by the gesture.

“What’s this for?”

“Christmas gift?” you answer unsurely with a nervous chuckle. “I just saw it at the store and… thought of you.”

“Y/N, I can’t—“

“Yes you can and you will,” you roll your eyes at him, tired of hearing all these negations from him. He can’t, he won’t, he shouldn’t… for once, he definitely will if it’s on you. “Take it as my payment for the book you gave me.”

His eyes soften at you before he looks down at the book again, reading the title before he chuckles to himself.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he then finally says, accepting that you won’t let him return the gift under any circumstances.

“Have a nice Christmas, Harry,” you smile at him shyly, hands holding onto the strap of your bag as you start walking away.

“You too,” he faintly says and turning around you start walking, but then he stops you. “Y/N, wait!”

You stop in your track and face him curiously. He seems hesitant, stepping away from the desk, walking closer to you but still keeping some distance between the two of you.

“Do you… have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“I, uhh—No, not yet.”

“If you happen to be back in town by then… Sarah is having this little get together. I have a feeling she already invited you, but if you said no because of me, I want you to know that it’s fine by me. Would be nice if you could come.”

He is right, Sarah did invite you over, but you kindly declined thinking Harry wouldn’t appreciate if you spent it with them. You wanted to give him a breather, have a night with his friends without having to avoid you all the time, but it seems like the situation has changed for him.

“You don’t have to invite me just because I gave you a gift, Harry.”

“It’s not about that,” he shakes his head softly. “I can tell you are getting along well with Sarah and all the others. I want you to know that I would never stand in the way and you are very much welcomed at any and all events.”

He seems and sounds genuine, you don’t see any sign of him just saying it because Sarah asked him to or something. No, this definitely came from him.

“Okay, I’ll… think about it,” you tell him with a warm smile. “See you around,” you wave at him before walking out of the room.

You don’t get to see his reaction to the words you wrote into the book and for a while, you’re not even sure he saw it. Maybe he took it home and put it on his shelf without even having a look into it, but two days later, when you’re already packing, getting ready to go home for Christmas, you get a notification that at first confuses you.

Breakfast is now following you!

You open Instagram with furrowed eyebrows as you go to the profile that just followed you. It’s a small account and private, of course and you almost close it thinking it’s just someone random when you see that it’s followed by both Sarah and Charlotte.

Could this be Harry’s profile?

The username is colazione8, it doesn’t give away much but now that you are thinking about it, it’s perfect if he wanted to stay unnoticed by his students that surely can use Instagram way better than him.

You tap on the follow request button and anxiously wait for an approval, hoping that the person behind the account is still online. You wait and wait, slowly losing hope but then the notification finally arrives. Your request has been approved.

You tap on the profile vigorously and three pictures appear in front of you. One is a picture of some random building, the first ever posted is a plate of nicely served breakfast of some sort and then there’s one that features the person you were desperately hoping to see.

It’s a picture of Harry sitting at a big dining table, a glass of wine in front of him as he is squinting his eyes towards the camera. You zoom into the picture just to make sure it’s him, but his features are clearer than daylight, it really is Harry that just followed you.

You’re still stalking his very private and not too eventful profile when you get a message from him, making your heart skip a beat.

Harry: Hey! Just wanted to thank you again for the gift, it’s really thoughtful. Read what you wrote in it… thank you, Y/N.

Y/N: I meant every word. Thank you for everything you did this semester!

It takes a few minutes for a response to arrive from him.

Harry: Are you already on your way home?

Y/N: Not yet, leaving tomorrow morning.

Harry: If I drop by your place in 20, can you come down for a sec?

Y/N: Sure!

Though your response seemed totally cool, you started panicking right away. What does this mean? Why is he coming here? Are you in trouble? You couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.

You quickly change out of your worn-out sweats and stained shirt, putting on a pair of jeans and a black hoodie, not wanting to see him looking like a total wreck. You sit on your bed, anxiously checking your phone every ten seconds to see if he has messaged you and those twenty minutes never seem to pass.

Then your phone finally chimes again.

Harry: I’m here.

Y/N: Be there in a sec.

You jump into a pair of trainers and grabbing your keys from the little sidetable you have in the hallway you storm out of the apartment, running down the stairs. As you walk out you stop in your track for a second, for some reason you were expecting the minivan, but this time, it’s a black Range Rover that’s parked in front of your building and Harry emerges from it the moment you step outside.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, shutting the door before he jogs around and you notice the little gift bag in his hands.

“Harry, is this what I think it is? Because you shouldn’t have, really,” you tell him right away as he stands in front of you, glancing down at the little bag in his hands.

“What? So you are allowed to give me a gift, but I’m not allowed to do the same?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“But you already gave me one!”

“That wasn’t a real gift, so no,” he shakes his head, too stubborn to let it go. So instead, he nervously glances down at the little bag before handing it to you. “Here. Happy Christmas. But you can only open it when I’m gone, alright?”

“Why?”

“Just… please,” he breathes out and you not, keeping your curious hands to yourself.

“Alright. Well, thank you, Harry.”

“Sure. Um, have a great winter break and… I’ll see you around,” he smiles, walking around the car back to the side of the driving seat.

“You too, Harry. See you!”

You see him drive away as you walk back into the building, basically running up the stairs to your apartment, dying to see what’s in the little bag. Once you are locked in the safe haven of your room, you throw yourself to the bed and reach into the bag, finding a small box. One that’s usually used for jewelry. You pull it out with shaky fingers and take a deep breath before opening it.

Inside sits the cutest little silver ring you’ve literally ever seen. It’s thin and very detailed, tiny little strawberries lining next to each other and that’s the whole ring. Just the little strawberries, but it’s still the cutest you’ve ever seen. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your ring finger, holding up your hand you take a good look at how it sits on your finger. You’re in love with it.

Rolling to your back on the bed you stare up at the ceiling with a heavy heart aching for a man you know will never be yours, but you just can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants, right?

Reaching for your phone you type him a quick message

Y/N: Harry, thank you so much! It’s beautiful! But you shouldn’t have bought me anything!

Harry: I’m glad you like it :)

Y/N: I love it.

He doesn’t respond, just likes your message.

Christmas is always the same, especially because your family just never had those juicy dramas that could ruin any family events. Holidays have always been quiet and loving, pretty predictable. It’s good to be home again and spend quality time with your loved one, though your mind keeps wandering to a particular someone.

Sarah mentioned that Harry has traveled home to his mom and sister and from time to time you catch yourself thinking about what he could be possibly doing at the moment.

The only interaction between the two of you is when you post a photo with your sister and brother at Christmas dinner and he likes the photo, but nothing more. He doesn’t post or add to his story so you are left with your own elaborate fantasies of what he could possiblybe doing at home.

Sarah convinces you to spend the New Year’s Eve at hers and you are accepting the invitation a lot easier now that Harry has told you he is fine with you joining.

Just one day before the 31st you get back to your apartment and spend the second to last night of the year spiraling about the whole situation with Harry. Where are you two standing as of right now? Was his gift a gesture with a deeper meaning behind it?

You can’t step over the fact that you are not his student anymore. He has officially graded you and you’ve received your credits for his class, the ties are off, but he situation might still be risky and you doubt Harry is willing to change his mind about what he told you earlier. He made it clear that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, however you can’t help but feel a little hopeful that the new semester might bring a change into that.

After two hours spent in front of your closet and at least three mental breakdowns you finally decide to wear a black turtleneck dress which is just the perfect mixture of modest and sexy at the same time. You feel anxious to see Harry again, not sure how to act around him following your little gift exchange. There’s a chance he’ll just shut himself off once again and avoid you all night, you can’t tell.

Sarah’s place is already buzzing by the time you arrive, several guests are lounging in the living room and kitchen, some soft music is playing and it appears that everyone is enjoying the evening so far, judging from the laughter you hear from time to time.

“I’m so glad you came!” Sarah envelopes in a tight hug when you arrive.

“Thank you for inviting me. Here, brought some snacks,” you hand her the grocery bag you picked up on your way, not wanting to arrive empty-handed.

“Oh, you are an angel, some on in, make yourself home, take whatever you want to eat or drink!” she gestures around before bringing the bag into the kitchen.

The cozy home is already filled with a lot of people you don’t know, but you also spot Charlotte and Mitch right away so you take the safe spot in their little circle. You try your best to stay present in the conversation but you keep glancing around, looking for one particular person.

And then you finally see him. Harry emerges from the little hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom with Adam, seemingly deep in conversation as he nurses a beer in his hand. His checkered slacks and vintage printed t-shirt makes him appear so casual, if you didn’t know him you wouldn’t even guess that he is actually a professor.

Harry laughs at something Adam just told him and his eyes glide around the room until they find you standing near the kitchen. He stops in his track, gaze running down your figure before it returns to your eyes and he seems to be in awe, like he doesn’t entirely believe it’s you he is seeing even though he knew you’d be coming. There’s nothing you want more than to run across the room and throw yourself into his arms. You spent way too much time thinking about him during Christmas and seeing him in the flesh now is a mixture of feelings you can’t really describe just now.

Neither of you leaves the conversation you are in the middle, but you keep glancing towards each other. You’re nervously moving the strawberry ring around your finger, feeling his burning gaze on your figure all the time. You haven’t taken it down since he has given it to you, it partially made it harder for you to stop thinking about him, because the jewelry was quite a loud reminder every time you glanced down at your hands.

Two drinks later your sister calls you, as always she wants to say happy new year before the lines get hectic at midnight, so you move out to the small balcony facing the street as you talk to your sister. The spicy night air feels amazing on your heated up skin, the turtleneck dress was a good choice, but it’s definitely getting hotter with each drink, especially with Harry’s lingering eyes as well. When you end the call you decide to stay outside a little longer, take a few moments to yourself.

You jump a little when you hear the sliding door open and you’re surprised to see Harry walk out.

“Hey, thought you might need this,” he smiles softly, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumble and let him wrap it around your shoulders. It provides just enough heat that your lips are not shaking anymore from the cold.

“What are you doing out here alone? Not enjoying the evening?”

“I am, I was just on the phone with my sister.”

“She’s older than you, right?” he asks and you tilt your head a little looking at him.

“How do you know that?”

“I, uhh… You have a lot of pictures with her on your Instagram,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you been stalking my profile?” you tease him, but he clearly takes it way more serious than you intended it to be.

“No, I swear it’s not like that, I just—“ he stammers but you cut him off placing a hand on his arms that are crossed over his chest.

“Harry, I was just teasing you. It’s fine,” you assure him, giving him a gentle squeeze before you are about to pull your hand back, but his hold stops you. He takes your hand in his, gently bringing it closer to his face as he examines the ring sitting on your finger.

“You’re wearing it,” he breathes out, a small cloud emitting from his pink lips as his thumb softly runs over the ring.

“Of course. I told you I love it.”

You can’t ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm palm against yours, his thumb delicately running over not just the ring, but down your finger as well before he lets go of your hand. You already miss his touch.

“So, how was Christmas?” he asks clearing his throat.

“Good, nothing extra. What about yours?”

“Same, went home to the family.”

“Do you often visit them?”

“Not as often as I would want to, but I’m trying to go every couple of months.” Harry turns towards the street, eyes running along the not too busy road that stretches past Sarah’s building. His hand comes up to the railing, fingers slightly drumming on it. “How come you didn’t bring anyone tonight?”

“Well, my roommates are still home and I also didn’t think you’d like the idea to have another student of yours around.”

“Right, yeah,” he nods, but you can tell something else is still on his mind. “So… no boyfriend to bring?”

You give him a puzzled look. Is this his way of asking if you are seeing anyone at the moment? Because if it is, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“No, not really. I guess you can say I’m not looking for one actively.”

“How come?” he asks with raised eyebrows, his body turning towards you as he leans against the railing. You give him a ‘really?’ look. You think about getting a little sassy and teasing with him, but then decide to just be straightforward instead.

“Because I’m kind of into my Methodology of Cultural Anthropology professor.”

Harry’s lips part as his eyes pierce into yours and for a moment you really think that he is about to flip, tell me how dare you say such thing to him and curse you out, but a second passes and his gaze softens as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Y/N…”

“What? I just answered your question,” you innocently shrug, looking away from him. Despite this long and weird game the two of have been playing these past months, this is the first time you openly admitted that you have a thing for him.

“You know how complicated it is and I told you that nothing can happen.” He shakes his head in defeat, a hint of disappointment in his tone, but it just grinds your gears.

“What, so you can ask about my dating life but I can’t say that I’m into you? How is that fair?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I think it is. Both are highly inappropriate to bring up in our situation, don’t you think? Yet you’re trying to put all the blame on me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just… forget about it. I really don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because you’re afraid I might actually win?” you sassily reply, crossing your arms on your chest.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, okay? Would you… let me?”

“If you haven’t realized it yet, I’m trying really hard to stay in my lane, but you’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m trying too, okay?” he growls, clearly losing his calmness at this point. “I’m really fucking trying, Y/N, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

“You’re the one making it hard!”

“It’s not my fucking fault I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“Well it’s not my fault either!” you snap at him, both of you raising your voice, the rest of the party oblivious about the screaming match the two of you are having on the balcony. “If you’re so set on not letting anything happen, why do you come to me and act the opposite?”

“The opposite?!”

“Yes! It’s not quite appropriate to gift your student with a ring or ask them about their dating life. Or is it all new information to you?”

“You started with the gifting!”

“So what? You could have just left it there, but you didn’t. It’s not that it didn’t make me happy, but don’t try to put all the blame on me for saying something when you’re already crossing the lines.”

Harry stares at you with a hard look and you’d pay great amounts to actually read his thoughts at this moment. His jaw clenches as he exhales sharply, eyes turning away from you, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

“Make up your fucking mind,” you growl under your breath as you push your way past him and walk inside before he could get a word out.

For a well-respected, educated and smart man, Harry can act pretty fucking stupid, you think. He is not being fair and you will not apologize for anything you’ve said. If he doesn’t want anything to do with you, he needs to stay in his lane and not dance on the line, poking the sleeping lion. He doesn’t get to fuck around and then put all the blame on you, that’s just not how it works and he needs to learn that.

In the last hour that’s left until midnight you mingle with the guests and try to keep your thoughts of Harry at bay, though it’s quite the challenge since he lingers around you, keeping his eyes on you all the time, as if he is trying to piss you off or something, but you’re determined to be a mature adult and keep your composure.

You’re getting tired of this game and you’re not sure anymore if you are willing to wait around until Harry makes his mind up. Not when he doesn’t keep his own rules at least.

“Come on,” you mumble to yourself as you’re trying to open up a new bottle of wine, but the screw just wouldn’t move, no matter what you do. A hand reaches forward and wraps around the neck of the bottle, interrupting your pathetic misery.

“Let me help you.”

You let Harry take the bottle, biting into your bottom lip as you turn around and watch him easily open the bottle you’ve been fighting with the past ten minutes, he grabs your empty glass from the counter and fills it.

“Thank you,” you mumble when he hands it back and you take a sip right away. He places the bottle to the counter, fingers strumming on the surface before he takes a deep breath and speaks up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?”

“For the way I acted. You were totally right, I called you out for things that I did myself too, that was unfair of me.” He clears his throat, leaning against the counter with his back side as he crosses his arms on his chest. It brings out how toned his arms really are and you give yourself half a second to drool over that before you take another sip from your drink, forcing yourself to keep your thoughts under control.

“Thanks for acknowledging it,” you mumble, not sure what to say exactly. The two of you stand like that in silence, eyes roaming the guests, something clearly weighing down on both of you, but it’s hard to name and address it.

You can tell he is overthinking, the gears are almost visible, turning in that smart head of his, but you don’t want him to go into depths he shouldn’t. He really is making a bigger deal out of the situation that it already is, but it’s going to wreck him.

“Okay, I want to know, what was the worst way someone tried to flirt with you?”

Harry turns to you with a puzzled look, but you just sip on your wine, waiting for his answer.

“Um, I don’t… really keep track of it.”

“Oh come on,” you give him a look. “I know you have a story. I wanna hear it!”

Your eyes meet and he is searching in yours, trying to figure out what’s the sudden change in your mood when an hour ago you were ready to throw him off the balcony. Truth is you are just frustrated, because the situation feels so impossible. You never had to deal with such an amazing man, knowing he is into you as well, but you just can’t have him. The struggle is hard for the both of you but you can’t blame him entirely. Hating on him because he is not willing to take a risk that could easily ruin his entire life but at least his academic career is just not fair and you won’t put him through that.

Harry sees where you’re coming from and he shoots you a thankful smile before it turns into a smirk as he looks down at his hands.

“Professor Davids from the department of linguistics asked me to be her date for her ex-husband’s wedding.”

“What?” you gasp with wide eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “She started swinging by my office all the time, trying to chat me up and then one day she asked if I wanted to go with her, that we would be staying at this nice hotel and all… she really thought it was a good idea.”

“That’s very awkward,” you laugh, entertained by the thought that Professor Davids would go so low when it came to dating. “I assume, you declined the invitation.”

“Faster than ever,” he chuckles making you laugh even louder. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you an awkward story, now it’s your turn.”

“Um, the worst was probably a promposal I got.”

“A promposal?” he asks with a puzzled look, his forehead creasing as he pulls his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, when they ask you out to go to prom.” “Oh, yeah. Didn’t know it had a specific name.”

“Because you are way too British,” you tease him and he just gives you a narrow-eyed look, but you can see the smirk hiding on his lips. “Well, anyway, I was dating a guy senior year, but this other one was convinced he could win me over and take me to prom. He brought a fucking mariachi band to school and gave me a serenade in the middle of the hallway while my boyfriend was standing next to me. He asked me to prom so confidently at the end of the song, like he actually had a shot but it was so painfully awkward,” you laugh at the memory shaking your head and Harry joins, finding it quite entertaining.

“He really did that to himself.”

“He did, I felt bad a little, but what was I supposed to do?”

You slip into telling more and more awkward stories, staying in the kitchen you create a little bubble, the rest of the guests don’t seem to exist as you enjoy yourself with Harry. This is the most carefree and loosest you’ve ever seen him around you and you quite like this version of him. So easy to talk to and even funnier than his usual self.

A little before midnight Sarah runs around with champagne, filling everyone’s glass, getting ready for the countdown. You and Harry join Charlotte, Adam and his wife in the corner of the living room as everyone is slowly getting excited for the last moments of the year.

Looking around you see a lot of couples, holding hands, hugging, clearly planning to snog the moment the clock hits midnight and when you glance at Harry on your right you’re convinced he is thinking about the same thing.

You’re not naïve, you don’t think he is going to kiss you, but you still allow yourself to play with the thought just a little. He is standing so close to you, just the tiniest move and you’d be touching him, skin to skin again, feel him under your—

The thought is abruptly interrupted when you feel his warm palm wrap around your hand, your whole body freezing and for a split second you think it’s just an accident, that his touch will disappear before you could even blink, but it stays there. Harry maneuvers his fingers until they are laced together with yours and he keeps a firm hold of your hand, hanging between the two of you, staying hidden because you’re standing close to each other. Your breath catches in your throat and you’re afraid if you dare to move he’ll let go of your hand.

Another version of yourself would laugh hysterically at how worked up you are right now just because he is holding your hand, but the you that’s actually in the moment is about to burst just by this small touch. You have absolutely no idea what it means or why he chose to do it, but you don’t really care about it. You just want to absorb all the heat you feel coming from him where his palm meets yours, fingers braided together tightly, as if he is trying to keep you next to him, like he thinks you are about to disappear and it’s way of anchoring you to him, but truth is you don’t want to go anywhere.

“One minute, everyone!” Sarah sings in excitement as she turns on the TV and puts a huge clock on the screen that’s counting the seconds as well. You shyly glance to the side, finding Harry standing motionless next to you and when he notices you looking, his eyes meet yours. He looks terrified, like a lost little boy and you can’t tell if he is afraid of your reaction or because of what his actions might bring on him. But you want him to know that you are completely okay with where it’s heading.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins and you inch closer to Harry so you’re pressed against his side, his body heat radiating into your skin even through the layers of clothes you two are wearing.

Harry leans down the moment you lift your head, his face is so close, it wouldn’t take much for you to finally kiss him, do the one thing you haven’t stopped thinking about for months.

“Y/N…” he breathes out and it’s a tortured plea, he is begging you to stop him from doing something he might regret, but you are dying for him to finally sin. You want him to give it up already, you have absolutely no desire to be the burden that keeps him in his lane. You need him to cross the line and stay there.

“I’m not stopping you, Harry,” you tell him quietly, the urge to close the distance between the two of you is burning inside you.

“Seven! Six! Five!” the countdown continues, but it all tones out, you can only see, hear and feel Harry.

“We can’t,” he whines, closing his eyes as he exhales shakily.

“We can, we just shouldn’t,” you correct him, his eyes snap open and meet yours again. You can tell he is so close to finally giving in and let his feelings and desires take control and you will not try to stop him.

His face inches the tiniest bit closer and his forehead is almost touching yours now, you can see every curly eyelash that frames his gorgeous green eyes that are now filled with fear and nerves.

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” Everyone screams together as the clock finally hits midnight while you just stare at Harry holding your breath, praying that he is finally ballsy enough to take this step.

“Harry, please,” you beg, not too proud of it, but you just can’t take it any longer. His hand is gripping yours tightly as he closes his eyes again and for a second you think that it’s gonna happen. He is going to give up the act and finally kiss you.

But right when the moment is burning the most… he pulls back and your heart sinks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand lets go of yours and it feels like your arm is ripped off, tears are welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” you mumble under your breath, chugging down the champagne before making your way through the living room, determined to leave as soon as possible.

“Y/N, wait, where are you going?” you hear him calling after you, but you don’t stop. You get rid of the empty champagne glass and grab your coat from the rack, storming out of the apartment as if you had somewhere to be.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you run down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. You hear the other pair of feet running behind you and Harry calling after you, but it’s not stopping you.

You push the front door of the building open, but it’s heavy, so it slows you down just enough that Harry can grab your wrist when you are about to start running down the street.

“Y/N, don’t go, let me explain!”

“No!” you snap at him. “I don’t fucking want to hear your explanation! I’m done, Harry! I’m fucking done! I was trying to be patient and respectful, I didn’t want to make it worse for you and let you do your thing, but you kept dancing back and forth and I can’t keep doing this, so I guess I’m sorry too.”

You’re choking on your own words that echo from the walls, the street is almost entirely empty, the world is still celebrating the new year while you’re at your breaking point. Harry stands in front of you, defeated and panic all over his face as he listens to you.

“I will not sit around and let you play your little games any longer, because you can’t make up your mind whether you want me or not.”

“Y/N I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!” he snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s the problem! This shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you!”

“Then do something about it!” you beg through your tears.

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” you scream at him. “You can but you probably just don’t want me enough to actually do it! And it’s fine, but—“

You don’t get to finish your rant because Harry firmly grabs your arm, yanks you towards him and with one swift movement, his lips are crashing against yours.

It all happens so fast but your body reacts before your mind could process what’s really happening, fists bunching a handful of his sweater as you pull him against you, his hands flying up to your face, cupping them confidently as he kisses you hard and demandingly.

It’s like a fucking dam that’s been broken, everything you both kept bottled up and under control just breaks loose and it’s a kind of a wild fight for trying to devour each other now that all lines has been crossed an blurred into nothingness.

He is the dominant one, but you do some pushing and pulling on your own as well. You’re forced to take a few steps backwards, back arching at how forcefully he is pushing forward, lips smacking against each other over and over again, his tongue meeting yours, swirling and dancing around with yours, a shameless moan escaping your mouth.

His hands roam down your sides and you jumps when they reach the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around his waist. He keeps you up easily, fingers digging into your flesh where your butt meets your thighs and this angle allows you to be completely pressed up against him and feel every single inch of his body that burns for you.

It’s beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, you’re not sure it’s because of the build-up that led to this point or simply the chemistry you two got, but it blows your mind, making you question how you could go this long without ever kissing him.

“Harry, I want you,” you moan when his lips move down to your jawline, kissing and biting on the soft skin, tasting you wherever he can reach.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he breathes out resting his forehead against yours before kissing you again.

“Take me home then.”

“Are you sure?” he pants as you run your fingers through his hair and tug on his gently, earning a whimper from his perfectly pink and swollen lips. You love this satisfied dew on his face, especially because you know it’s because of you.

“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You unwrap your legs from around his waist and return to the ground, but not without him leaning down to kiss you once more before he grabs your hand and starts pulling you down the street. You spot his Rover right away and start sprinting, Harry following you right behind with a carefree laugh.

Settled in your seats he starts driving, but you can’t keep yourself away from him. His hand that’s not on the steering wheel is gripping your thigh as you lean over the console and start kissing his cheek, jawline and the corner of his mouth as one of your hands runs down his chest until it reaches his pants.

“Love, if you move further down we’re gonna crash,” he warns you with a shaky breath. “I drank a little too and I’m already fucking gone from kissing you, if you touch me I’m gonna lose it.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his lips before sitting back in your seat. You need every bit of your patience and self-control to stay modest on the way back to his place. Hands gripping his you bring it up to your lips, kissing his knuckles gently as he speeds down the empty streets. It’s still barely over midnight, everyone is still celebrating, oblivious to how important this moment is to the two of you.

You really thought this would be the end. When he pulled away at midnight all hope was lost for you and it broke your heart to know that he will never choose you over his better judgment.

It’s your first time at Harry’s but you don’t really care to look around as the two of you make your way inside the townhouse, lips already melted together as you stumble through the dark hallway, not wanting to let go of each other. You successfully make it into his bedroom and Harry turns on the bedside lamp while you’re already eagerly getting rid of your coat and shoes. He does the same, clothes start to litter the hardwood flooring hastily, but neither of you is thinking about them. Harry scoops you into his arms once again, kissing your lips passionately as he bunches your dress up at your hips until he can finally grip the end of it and pull it over your head.

“Oh shit!” you giggle, the turtleneck getting stuck on your head for a moment before you’re free from it.

“That big head of yours,” he chuckles kissing your forehead.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest gently, pushing him down to the bed so you can straddle him, knees on his sides as you sit on his lap, lips meeting again.

He throws his hands up when you start pulling his t-shirt up and once the fabric is off of his body, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. Your skin meets his and it feels heavenly, only little clothing separating the two of you at this point.

Harry scoots backwards and then throws you to the mattress, getting on top of you without your lips ever parting. His hips are pushed against yours and you can feel everything through the thin material of his slacks. Without even knowing you grind your hips, your core meeting his erection in the movement and he moans uncontrollably at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against your lips and you can’t push your smirk down at his reaction.

“Yeah, fuck me, Harry,” you tease him before your lips get occupied once again.

His hands work fast. He unclasps your bra without you even noticing, the straps falling from your shoulders before he gets rid of it, throwing it across the room as if it did something against him. When his hungry eyes fall down on your naked chest you see the same kind of torture in his eyes that was there when he was fighting with himself before.

“Harry, stop thinking,” you tell him, fingers massaging his scalp as you lace them through his hair. “It’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions again and you pull him down for a reassuring kiss.

“One hundred percent. I want this. I want you.”

“Oh God, I want you so bad,” he whines again, lips kissing down your jawline, neck and collarbone before they attack your breasts.

He cups them, licks and bites them, making you a whimpering mess underneath him every time his tongue meets your hot skin. This man will be the death of you. As he moves down your body, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he glances up at your for reassurance once again, you nod eagerly, lifting your hips so he can easily glide the fabric down and off of your body. Harry sits up, eyes burning down on your naked body lying in front of him as he undoes his own pants, pushing them down his long legs until they join the rest on the floor. You push yourself up when his hands move to his boxers, you want to be the one to take them off. He gladly backs his hands off when you reach out and start tugging them down. He kneels on the bed as you pull the fabric down and his erection finally becomes free, making you ache for him immediately. Once the boxers are out of the way completely you want to reach out to touch him, but he stops you, hands wrapping around your wrist before they could reach him.

Your eyes snap up to meet his darkened gaze, questioning why he stopped you.

“Y/N, I… If we do this, there’s no going back,” he breathes out with a pained look. You push yourself up to your knees so you meet his height, hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him into a sweet kiss that he hesitantly but returns.

“I know what you think about us, Harry, but I assure you, that I’m completely fine with it. But if you don’t want it to happen, we can just… lie here. I’m fine with that too. Kissing you was already such a gift for me,” you smile at him, gently pecking his lips.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret it. I’m not pushing you, right?”

“If anyone, it’s me pushing you,” you chuckle softly, a small smile tugging on his lips as well. “You didn’t push anything on me, alright? We are both adults and it’s completely fine. We’ll figure out the rest, I just want to focus on you now. Can I do that?”

Harry nods, still looking a little unsure, but you can tell he is starting to settle in his mindset. It’s not just him that worries about the other regretting something. You know how torn up he is about anything that’s about you and though you want him more than anything, you still don’t want to push him into doing something he is not entirely comfortable with.

“Do you want this?” you softly ask, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I do. I’m just—“

“Then it’s all good, Harry. We both want it, nothing else matters for now,” you tell him, wanting nothing else than to finally see him enjoy himself entirely. “Lay down for me,” you tell him, feeling like you taking the lead is a good idea now.

He does as you asked him to, lying down on the mattress, head sinking into his pillow as he blinks up at you, watching you swing a leg over him before settling to sit on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” you ask, wanting to make sure he feels completely comfortable with you. Pleasing him is your number one priority right now. He nods, lips parting as he watches your hand reach out and wrap around the base of his erected length. He whimpers under your touch, his eyes fall closed when you gently pump him a few times, his cock fits so well in your palms, like pieces of a puzzle.

Leaning down you kiss his fern tattoos on each sides of his hips before placing one to his leaking tip, sliding your hands to the base before you slowly and gradually take him into your mouth.

You’re not planning to make him cum with your mouth, but you’ve been dying to taste him and it’s just as good as you imagined. The way his body reacts to your touch, the noises that leave his kissable lips, this man is completely out of this world and you want to explore every inch of his body.

You bob your head a couple of times, just enough to wet his length and work him up for what’s coming next. When you let him go of your mouth and you move a little up on his body so that his cock can be lined up with your hole, you look at him to see if he is still down to continue. One hand holding his cock, the other one flat on his naked chest, you ask him a question with your eyes that he answers with his hands squeezing your hips.

“I have the implant. Do you want to put on a condom?” you ask him at last.

“I trust you,” he breathes out. “Do you want me to put one on?”

“I want to feel you,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay,” he nods so it’s settled.

Leaning down you peck his lips one last time before you push the head inside and then slowly ease yourself down on his throbbing length.

“Oh fuck!”

“Harry, oh my God!” you both moan at the sensation of him finally entering you. You’ve had your fair share of sexual intercourses throughout your life, but none of them felt this good. None of them pleasured you this good so fast and easily, just the feel of him being inside you is making you lose your mind.

You start off slow, wanting to feel him just right, get used to his size, but as soon as you feel more comfortable, you pick up a faster pace. His fingers are digging into your flesh at your hips as he holds onto you for dear life, panting and moaning at your motions. He glides in and out of you perfectly, setting your senses on fire practically.

“Harry, you feel so good,” you gasp, getting lost in the feeling. Sex has always been a good experience for you, but with Harry it’s a whole different story. As if he just opened a completely new world you never even knew about before.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh fuck!”

Harry pushes himself up, an arm coming around your back as he easily flips the two of you over, your back gently hitting the soft mattress. He holds himself up above you, lips crashing with yours as he starts to do the work this time, thrusting in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours forcefully as you both nearing the end.

“You’re making me lose my fucking mind, Y/N,” he cries out, head falling to the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around him as a shield, holding him tight against you.

It doesn’t take long after that. He is hitting just the right spots, making you moan his name over and over again as your orgasm slowly devours you and washes over your whole body while he is still relentlessly moving.

“Harry! Oh… Fuck!” you gasp, legs and hands shaking and you clench your muscles around him, throwing him over the edge with you. He falls out of his rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he moans against the hot skin of your neck, coming undone in your arms.

Nothing has ever felt this intense and mind-blowing and you’re now sure you’re addicted to him, there’s no turning back, not that you want that.

He collapses on top of you, still inside you, his body weighing down on you heavily, but it feels just fine. You run your arms up and down his sides, kissing the side of his head as you are both trying to catch your breath. It takes a few minutes for him to come back to reality with you, he lifts his head and moves to the side so he is not crushing you anymore, but an arm remains thrown over your abdomen. His vibrant green eyes are shining like never before when they meet your tired gaze and cupping his face in your palm you pull him in for a slow kiss where you finally have the time to actually taste him without the rushing of your own needs and urges.

“How are you feeling?” you softly asking, knowing well how major this was for him. You wouldn’t want him to spiral and start to self-destruct because of what just happened.

“I’m feeling fine,” he murmurs lowly, his fingers dancing on your naked side. “Just still a little torn if I did the right thing.”

“You worry too much. We did nothing wrong.”

“Not sure everyone would agree with that.”

“Fuck everyone else,” you chuckle and a smile tugs on his lips as well. “I will not feel bad for having the best sex of my life with a hot as fuck man I’m really into,” you bluntly tell him, earning a smug grin.

“Best sex of your life, huh?”

“Not even ashamed to admit,” you nod into the pillow. “How… was it for you?” you shyly ask, afraid his answer might disappoint you. But Harry pulls you closer until you’re pressed up against his chest, his lips capture yours, kissing you fiercely, making your heart skip a few beats for sure.

“Fucking amazing, baby. Probably the best I ever had too,” he admits, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle against his chest once he has rolled to his back.

Silence comes over the two of you, you’re listening to his steady heartbeat, mindlessly drawing patterns over his chest. Lifting your head your eyes meet his and you can tell he has been thinking hard about what this all means for the future now.

“I’m in,” you simply tell him.

“Huh?”

“If you are thinking that I might not want to do this with you, that I just wanted a good fuck, that’s not what I think of this. If you want to give us a chance, I’m totally in.”

“You think we can make it work?” he quietly asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Of course,” you smile at him warmly. “You don’t?”

“I do, I’m just… there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“Then… we’ll make them right.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, clearly having a hard time to take it as easy as you do and you wish you could magically make all his doubts go away.

Sitting up you put your hands on each of his sides, looking down at him determined to bring out his confidence in the two of you.

“We just have to be patient and careful until I finish. Then we are basically free. That’s just one more semester. It could be way worse, we can make it work for a couple of months before we can finally do whatever we want. That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Harry shakes his head, reaching up he tugs your hair behind your ear before running his fingers down the side of your face.

“So we are really doing this?” he breathes out, a small smile on his sweet, pink lips.

“Well, I’m surely not giving up on this, we came a long way to be here,” you chuckle. “Question is, are you gonna give up on us? On… me?”

“Hell no,” he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. You smile down at him and leaning down you peck his lips tenderly.

“Then… we really are doing this.”

SEQUEL: 🌊 AN OCEAN AWAY 🌊

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #professor!harry #professor!harry au #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst

3K notes · View notes

matchamorphosis · 3 years

Note

MS ROSIE THAT HEADCANNON OMFG MAY I PRETTY PLEASE REQUEST DADDY ARI- maybe like hes busy with work but youre really needy so he lets you ride his thigh i lub mean daddy ari🥺<33333

𝐶𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑌 𝐶𝑂𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑈𝐵

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Ari hasn’t been paying you much attention and so you take matters in your own hands as well as your short cherry skirt.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut smut smut

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alt. AU — daddy!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, thigh riding, masochism, kinda dark!ari, spanking, hair pulling, lots of edging, tons of crying, Ari is a big meanie :(( MINORS DNI — 18+ INTERACTION ONLY

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || candy by doja cat

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || yes jasmeen of course you can!! 🥺💗 i’m gonna make daddy!ari extra mean and dirty for you and i’m gonna add a little bit of bratty reader cause in this house we love mean daddies and spoiled brats! 💗💗💗

Ari’s eyes follow the screen to the stacks of paperwork in front of him. all this was due by the end of the week and he still didn’t file the information from the online form to the files laying on his desk.

there were times where Ari broke some work related limits of hours upon hours of desk work fueled by caffeine and your kisses of encouragement but then again he did have his limits.

these were those times but no matter how much he promised himself he’d take a break, meaning to check up on you and see what you’ve been up to. although time seemed to pass and Ari hadn’t realize that that side note was forgotten three hours ago on the account of his mind relentlessly kept on reeling him back into his paperwork.

the large coffee mug you made him at a pottery class sits besides a stack of files is pushing its fifth refill of the day as Ari pours the remaining bitter black liquid from the coffeepot. the dark black liquid flowing into the yellow painted, honeypot shaped mug.

it makes him smile at the memory of when you gifted it to him, wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper he presses kisses all over your face in gratitude. he always complained on needing a mug since he always dropped them and he was certain to never drop of break this special mug his princess made him.

its sudden with the loose grip he has on the coffee mug that the coffee spills over the brink of the mug and onto a few papers. the action causes Ari to blurt out an aggregated scold before fanning out the papers soaked in coffee to the side near a fan.

sitting back down on his chair his eyes look over the work he has completed. stapling and putting away documents that have been signed and filed out as well as closing off tabs that weren’t important anymore-

he still has more work cut out for him

his rushing thoughts and swift hands bearing a pen and the other a computer mouse, his head shoots up as a rhythm like knock echoes at the home office door. “come in,”

the low rumble of his voice speaks out as his eyes and attention to back on the papers in his grasps. sipping on his black coffee, slightly sweetened in his desired cream and sugar packets, his focus and eyes stick to his paperwork.

the door opens to reveal you, slightly irritated and desperate for attention from your daddy. you were certain with your presence and the way your heels clack against the flooring he would lift his head up. adjust the small glasses on the brink of his nose and acknowledge you, tell you that you look cute today or stop writing all together but it doesn’t spark interest to him at all.

thin spectacles on the brink of his nose, loose curtains of hair rest on the sides of his face. as you take steps closer you can see the worn out exhaustion in his blue hues and the deep darkness of his under eye bags. daddy hasn’t slept great in days, always joining you in bed in the early morning hours and waking before you can. so now knowing that your mission for attention might not be the best idea, you know when your daddy gets like this.

it’s best to leave him work but it wasn’t healthy for him to overwork. it’s stress none stop about getting work done cause it wasn’t good for daddy! and despite you feeling a burn in your belly that you wanted to deny and push aside for him...

even you had your limits of being deprived from his embraces, praises and touches.

a solid three days it’s been that Ari has been glued behind his desk. it irked you how demanding his job was but you had to be his supportive princess, he needed all the support and encouragement. even if it meant to ignore the wetness in between your thighs that needed to be catered and handled by your daddy then so be it...

maybe you can get a bit of attention, a morsel of affirmation from him and you’ll be set to go. maybe you shouldn’t have worn the outfit you have on if you now just want a praise of two but you don’t hesitate to get comfortable. settling in one of the form fitting arm chairs at the far corner of your daddy’s office near the towering bookshelves and his hanged degrees.

admiring how smart and brave your daddy is with his degrees, certificates and honors as you play with the little charm bracelet he gave you. throwing one smooth leg over the other your mini skirt rakes up to reveal your upper thighs but still covering up what little you’re trying to hide. you liked dressing up pretty for daddy and he did to, today was no exception cause you were planning on cheering him up.

when he would finally realize you were here- you roll your eyes as he takes another sip of coffee. taking all your necessities that you stuffed in your Strawberry Shortcake book bag, you laid the elements of entertainment on the coffee table in front of you near the plush armchairs.

one of your lisa frank coloring books being thrown across the expansive wooden tabletop, you take out your bright vivid gel pens and pastel markers from your coloring pouch. and by taking out you unzip the pink pouch and turn it upside down for it all to fall on the table.

the clashing plastic crash of your coloring tools against the polished tabletop alert Ari- his head shooting up as his eyes meet your distanced body uncapping a scented marker and opening a page of the coloring book.

“princess? I didn’t see you, what are you doing here?” his voice breaks as he drops the pen in his hands briefly, softly smiling as he sees your face driven in concentration. his smile deepens when your nose doing the cute little scrunch thing when you’re unsure about something but plan on figuring out.

hair styled in one of your complicated yet sophisticated hairdos, his large sweater he allowed you to wear since the morning still adorns your bodice comfortably. knees bended, he sees them bare but an outline to a crimson red skirt falls on your hips.

it’s a shame Ari couldn’t get up and scoop you up in his arms, play and color with you for a bit without the ball and chain of his work holding him hostage at his desk.

“so now you notice i’m here,” your voice lightly snaps but it’s mellowed as your lips pull into a pout, pulling the strings of his heart. a sense of guilt rises in his chest because he knows he hasn’t been caring for you properly these past few days. without the little moments of meals and getting ready for bed he hasn’t been spending time with you that much.

“don’t be like that princess. daddy just has alot of work to finish-” but you still shake your head, confusing Ari as you cross your arms over your chest.

“but I don’t want daddy to work! daddy works forever! I want special time!” you whine, your eyes tearing up as you slam your hands against the table. making the coloring books, pens and markers quake at your mercy.

at this moment Ari’s at your mercy, and if he permits you to continue this stirring frenzy who knows how much he’s going to spend away from his work to calm you from a potential tantrum. so the words that come out of Ari’s mouth make you hault your next actions of crying and screaming-

the simple notion of, “come here princess, bring your coloring book with you. we can work together,” makes your tears stop falling and your body rising to leap towards him. grabbing your things quickly and making your way to your daddy. it’s now that he sees you in your outfit that has his eyes sticking anywhere else but yours.

a smirk curling your glossy, cherry painted lips you turn around for him so he could see your little ‘outfit’ the flow of your skirt tempting to rise up at the bottom curve of your ass but you’re hoping to save the surprise do what’s underneath it later, “do you like my skirt daddy?” you say, your eyes tracing his and he only but stares at anything else but your eyes.

the rich gleam of your thighs and long legs, the way your chest peaks out through the fabric to his sweater, your tempting glossy lips and those damn heels...

his response is his hands patting down on his thigh, enough to practically make your heart jump at the sight. it’s been that long since you’ve sat on his lap but then again you constantly need to be on it.

a moonlight smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you drop your coloring books and markers on his desk. making sure to not mess up his paperwork with yours, Ari moves his papers to make way for your things.

sighing happily when you settle your bum in between both of his thighs to get comfy. sweet scent of strawberries and cream from your shampoo wafting to his nose and the stark fruitiness of your scented markers mixing with the coffee steam from his mug marry together.

the two of you do your separate jobs peacefully, with the exception of you reaching for his honeypot mug to have a lick of coffee that he tsks at you. moving the mug away from your grabby small hands.

“that’s a big people drink sweet pea. i’ll give you a juice box if you’re thirsty,” but you just shake your head and get right back to shading with your colors.

“daddy may I please play my hello kitty game?” your perky voice starts as you start coloring the detailed tiger cub. emphasizing on the may and please, your daddy was a sucker for good manners and etiquette.

shifting against only his right thigh now, your back hunches to reach the desk with difficulty until he shift to get you comfortable. continuing coloring but your eyes leave once in a while to stare at the keyboard Ari’s fingers clack with each key, “not now princess.” Ari hums and you frown sourly.

the online hello kitty theme park game would be an excellent way to have you distracted as he works but at the same time Ari doesn’t think it’ll be healthy for you to invest that much screen time. and besides he’s working on it, leaning your head on his bicep you let go of that unwanted answer and get back to color tinting and detailing.

Ari files in the margins of the paperwork and writes everything out as you do with your coloring sheets. as the minutes turn into hours, his mug once again being filled with coffee and your sippy cup filled with your juice. you finish coloring page after coloring page and Ari stack after stack of paperwork.

leaving you halfway done with your one hundred and seventy-five page Lisa Frank coloring book and your daddy only one stack of field files. the amount he managed to finish has him impressed of himself and grateful to his special good luck charm sitting perfectly right on his thigh.

“daddy look at all the pages I finished!” you cheer as you pull out the coloring book for him to look over, practically bouncing on his thigh from excitement. the dazzling brightness of your wide toothy smile bringing a large smile to Ari’s face as he takes the coloring book to look over at your hard work.

flipping each page, the drawings and outlined sheets were more colorful and detailed than the last and Ari was indeed speechless and at awe. proud of his creative princess and her clever unique technique with scented markers and glitter gel pens.

“princess these are gorgeous! I have a little artist on my hands don’t I?” Ari grins and his words make the wide smile you have crinkle as your eyes dash away from his flustered.

your bashful state makes Ari chuckle but his eyes don’t pull away to continue analyzing and admiring your work. you indeed did an excellent job at coloring and Ari thought you’d struggle a bit with the detailed sheets of Lisa Frank. the refrigerator tonight will be decorated in these latest masterpieces, he’ll make sure of it.

and you know what? you deserve a reward.

Ari thought and he bends to the side to open the second compartment of his desk just above his organized files. pulling the drawer open, his hands roam over the pens, staples and office supplies in search for the treats.

stopping his short search when his fingers grab the bag of heart shaped lollipops he at times rewarded you when you listened to him extra carefully. he grabs one and brings it up to your eyesight, enjoying how your eyes light up and follow the lollipop with each motion.

starlight eyes widen and focus on the cherry lollipop in your daddy’s grasp then stare up at him again, “is that for me daddy?” you words drip in eagerness, wanting to taste the sugary sweet artificial fruit against your tongue.

Ari’s eyes playfully squint against your mischievous ones, his fingers undo the wrapper and disregard it aside on the desk. wonderstroke eyes looking over the bare heart shaped lollipop, you can smell the tangy cherry and your mouth waters.

although you don’t expect daddy to take the lollipop in his mouth. a pout pulling your lips as you rock against his thigh for a taste and you stop once your daddy takes it out with a smart delightful pop!

“open up for daddy princess,” and you don’t need to be told twice as you open your mouth so Ari could place the heart lolli in your mouth. “tongue out sweet girl,” and you stick your tongue flat out, making Ari smile at your good listening skills.

your glossy lips closing around the sweet candy on a stick, you hum at the sweet taste, “thank you daddy,” Ari simply kisses your forehead before patting your head, getting straight into work.

despite the candy he gave you, you’re still upset he still is ignoring you. by all means you could color as many pages in your coloring book for eternity but they never gave you the same satisfaction then the attention daddy gave you.

being deprived of it, you’ve also been deprived of his cock.

locked away in the depths of your shared bedroom you couldn’t just replace his thick fingers with yours. your pink silicon toys with his cock because they didn’t reach the golden spot he easily could reach. and you couldn’t rub your panty clothed pussy against one of your pillows and pretend it was Ari’s body.

no matter how much you wanted to touch yourself at times- hell you wanted to touch yourself when you were in your playroom this early afternoon. Ari obviously wouldn’t notice since his head was deep in paperwork but you knew you couldn’t break one of his golden rules.

right now daddy was right here, you were sitting on his very lap and compared to him you were a little thing in desperately critical need to be taken care of. your slicked cunt wasn’t going to stop over-examining your daddy’s big arms that caged you in. his large hands that held the pen that looked so small in it as he wrote. his wide muscular chest that you rest your back against.

not to mention the soft and tender caresses of his one hand rubbing your thigh through your fringed scarlet red skirt. soft lips pressing gentle kisses on your hairline here and there along with the scratch of his thick beard. the soft spoken praises he whispered in your ear as you colored quietly for him.

daddy himself made you needy, very needy. because as much as you could sit still and color quietly and be his good girl you desperately wanted to grind your cunt against his thigh.

but then again who were you to ask for permission?

the sudden shift your body has against his thigh doesn’t ring any bells or blast any alarms since he just thinks you’re simply shifting to find a comfortable position.

wandering fingers trace the veins bursting from your daddy’s flexed hands and forearms that grip his pen as he writes. as well as the other that’s hooked around your belly to keep you still, finding the perfect rhythm to roll your hips against ari’s thigh.

holding in a whimper you suck on the lollipop hard, picturing the heart shaped lolli has the tip of his cock but then again it just makes you drip pathetically against your daddy’s thigh even thinking of that. the burning pleasure vibrating at your core as your hips continue to rock onto the denim of your daddy’s jeans. the slick of your pussy soaking your panties and the honey seeps through the crotch of the thin lace thing.

as much as you’re doing a good job at keeping your little sounds to yourself and throwing Ari off at your dirty work as you carry on coloring he isn’t oblivious to the wetness that is drenching his thigh nor your ongoing grind you have on it.

no matter how considerable you told him earlier that you were coloring the page you’re working on for him and how adorable you looked grinding your desperate cunt on his thigh.

you didn’t ask for permission

Ari’s sure if he could lift your body away from his thigh they’re would be a wet patch stained on his jeans. he can hear the sloppiness of your wet folds and slick with each rock your hips have. the smell of your arousal filling his nose, the cherry in your breath as you let out a little whimper. feeling the loose string of your orgasm building in the pit of your belly beginning to tighten as you roll and rock your hips to the lace that makes you melt.

“stop it,” Ari’s low rumble commanded, his hands still writing something but his eyes dash from his work to you. eyes closed and face clouded in lust as you persist your grinding. head and conscious tucked away in your dirty little dream world. Ari doesn’t let the fact that you’re sucking on the lollipop like it’s his cock or the little moans that sound like high pitched hums.

he gave you you’re a reward and he can easily take it away

oblivious of your daddy’s true intention you moan when his hand lands on your head, stroking through your hair until he takes a handful of it and pulls your head back. a gasp escaping your lips, your eyes open and the grind you have on his thigh comes to a crashing stop at the painful tug.

“daddy let go!” you loudly whine. your eyes watering at your ruined orgasm and your hair potentially getting ruined by your daddy’s harsh hold.

another cry escapes your lips when ari pulls your head back even more, causing your back to arch as his breath wafts against your earlobe. “daddy told you to stop, princess. is my little princess a dumb baby or is my little princess too busy fucking herself on daddy’s thigh to listen?”

the coarseness of his remark makes you shiver, a whimper and cry leaving your lips as your eyes water as the hold he has on your hair tightens.

“get your filthy cunt off of my thigh and keep coloring that picture for me. can you do that for me or you going to wander and get lost in that whorish brain of yours?”

rapidly nodding your head up and down and lift your hips over his thigh, your need to please and answer his question quickly makes him chuckle into your hair. although you’re still whimpering and pouting over your ruined hair, you spent all morning making it cute and perfect all for it to be ruined with a single tug from his large hands.

hot bothered breath and searing lips grazing against the shell of your ear causes your wetness to seep and drip onto your rubbing thighs. catching you in the act, Ari’s free hand pulls the skirt above your hips, expecting you to wear some kind of tiny lace panties but you aren’t wearing anything.

blue eyes don’t meet any scandalous undergarment, just your plump ass and your dripping cunt desperate for his touch. desperate for a release and his attention, his hands examine the flimsy material for a skirt that deliciously hugs and covers your hips.

feeling your daddy’s stare on your princess parts, it makes your heart jump and thump when his hands grab at your ass. kneading the flesh of it before gripping the waistline of the cherry red skirt.

“daddy-?” another gasp escapes your lips when a loud tare ripples throughout the room and the weight of cold air hitting your slicked, exposed pussy.

Ari grunts as he takes the fabric of your now ripped skirt and throws it onto the floor without a care, all he wants to see is your pussy. a large hand comes down to slap your ass, enjoying the way it bounces back like it’s a response. it has all the blood and lust flowing down south to his hardening cock.

“do daddy a favor princess and shut the fuck up before daddy makes you,” the threat makes you whimper, the lollipop in your mouth swirling sweetly against your tongue as your daddy pinches and gripes handfuls of your ass. slapping the flesh and watching it bounce, he wants to dig his teeth in your peach flesh.

“take my sweater off. I want nothing on what’s mine. do you understand?” Ari groans in your ear as his hands glide around your hips to dip into your cunt, his fingers stroking your folds and not believeing how wet you are. “oh and princess, the heels stay on,”

whimpering and following his order quickly, grabbing his sweater from the helm and lift the heavy wool material of the sweater above your head. body fully bare and under the heat of his burning glance, you drop the thick article of clothing in your hands on the floor. leaving the heels on as he commanded, feeling the lust filled burn of his stare intensify as you rest your hands together on his knee waiting.

waiting impatiently for the matter for his next command. the smell of the baby oil and sweet strawberry lotion he rubbed on your curves earlier that day hits his nose and he moans. you look, smell and- as he takes his fingers in his mouth and moans- taste like candy.

hearing the sudden sound of a heavy metal buckle of his belt loosen, Ari’s hard cock rises up and hits the hard muscle of his belly. an untamed groan escapes oats his lips when you turn your head over your shoulder to see him rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

those starlight eyes that usually gleam in their faux innocence stare back at the fire in his eyes and you pout. wanting to touch daddy’s cock and taste him on your tongue. but your eyes tear up when he takes his thumb and suck the white cum into his mouth, not leaving enough for you to taste.

it makes you whip your head away from his handsome smug face. Ari doesn’t ignore the sniff out of you as he sets sight of your bare body in front of him. resting your elbows and body weight on the desk your arched back leaves loads of space for him to glide his hands through. running delicious shivers throughout your spine before he slaps your ass again. stinging and burning but your cunt creams in pleasure as you bite your bottom lip.

“my slutty princess wasn’t wearing a bra under daddies sweater? no panties under those scraps for a skirt? fucking knew you looked too good. wanted daddy to find out and ruin your tiny pussy, didn’t you? wanted to distract me from work? nasty little girl thinking she can get what she wants.”

not daring to let out another moan, his hand still gripping your hair loosens as his free hand rises up your waist to pinch a nipple. “answer me slut. you get nothing if you don’t,” his hiss rings and normally you would laugh at him in this state. telling off his stupid hunchmen on the phone as you got all hot and bothered as he yelled at them, making them beg for his forgiveness.

now you’re on the end of that anger; and you don’t mind it one but as his large calloused hands grab the fragments of your ripped skirt on the floor before analyzing your bare body arched pretty and posed for him. in nothing but your big girl heels with your cute lacy white socks, his cock is painfully hard now as the tip paints his abdomen in precum.

“yes daddy. I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted you to stop working because you haven’t touched me and I want cummies! I deserve cummies!” you cry but the words are too sloshed and unreadable from the lollipop in your mouth.

it’s quick that Ari takes the stick and pulls it away from your mouth with a swift and perky pop! a loud whine excludes your lips from his sole action but it’s replaced with a gasp as Ari slaps your mouth, “shut your big brat hole up before I stuff it shut myself,” and you moaned at him, fucking moaned at the threat.

it leaves him just as speechless as you, you’re face wafting in the heat of your embarrassment and you cower when his smirk curls deviously done on you. Ari wants you to cry- God he wants to rip your heart out and bandage it up with his cock

“dumb babies like you get what daddy gives you. nothing else, now grind on daddy’s thigh princess,” his rough command makes you freeze, not even daring to breathe for a second.

wondering if he’s being serious, and it’s as if he could read the confusion buzzing in your head he decides to clear it up. the harsh and stinging spank awakes you from your overthinking session and you get to work. working to gain the same pleasurable friction you were enjoying moments ago.

your hands gripe the edge of his desk till your knuckles bulge out around your soft skin. rocking your hips against the roughness of his jeans, this time no panties are in the way as your slickness flows freely. lubricating your folds and soaking his thigh with your juices, it makes him chuckle when he feels your wetness soak through the fabric onto his thigh. you’re so pretty and obedient he could fuck your till you couldn’t think or stand.

“do you think you can finish your coloring page before you cum princess? show me how good you are at coloring.”

Ari’s artificially sweet remark makes you whimper, just as artificial as the cherry heart lollipop you were licking. not hesitating or wasting a minute, you quickly grab your coloring book and markers and get straight to work.

thankful you didn’t have to color much, one good thing leading you to this moment you could feel your orgasm nearing. the high peak that you’re getting closer and closer to, you want to jump off the cliff and dive into the waves of your pleasure. who knows what daddy would do if you didn’t finish your drawing on time, you needed to fucking cum.

you always got what you fucking wanted regardless what daddy thought, but maybe you spoke to soon-

“please princess, daddy knows you can grind harder on that. show me how much of a slut you are for daddy’s thigh,” you whimper at his command and obey immediately.

grinding harder against him, his teeth biting the soft bit of ear as his fingers roll your hard nipples. slightly wincing and deeply moaning, you can’t help but allow him to make you slip in that space of mindless obedience.

daddy always made you a moaning wet mess, always desperate for his approval and sweet honeyed praises. glassy eyes concentrating on your coloring sheet, it was becoming difficult to focus on coloring as you rocked your hips. trying desperately to withhold your orgasm but desperately trying to please daddy and grinding harder. hot tears springing in your eyes at the havoc situation, you let out a sob as your rock against Ari’s thigh.

Ari only but cooed at you, thumbing away your hot salty tears. “what a little crybaby,” he chuckles through a fake sympathetic smile. fisting his hard slippery cock in one hand as the other crept down to rub your little button. if anything Ari wants more now is for you to cry- it’s getting his cock harder and harder as the tears drip onto the coloring sheet.

“daddy I-I can’t color that fast!” that cry as his thick fingers advancing in their speed and pressure. stroking the puffiness of your folds before brushing against your drenched hole.

taking not a single ounce of regard to your wail, he responds only by pinching your pussy lips. causing you to cry out in sudden pain before he strokes your pussy to calm you. thick digits gathering up your arousal, your folds creating a lewd serenade in the golden tint of his office.

“you can’t color that fast? my stupid little princess doesn’t know how to color quick enough? to color a small stupid drawing before she can cum? huh, princess? answer me!”

there doesn’t need to be any tugging at your hair or harsh slap to your ass for you to quiver against him. Ari- your daddy has a magical way of making you submit with just the ease of his words but you don’t know how to answer him at all but to keep coloring. marshmallow tears streaming down your face like shooting stars, you continue to reach your high your daddy assists you on reaching but denies.

however Ari is noticing that you’re practically almost done coloring the picture, by the time you’re finished you’d probably cum and fufill his order. oh he couldn’t let that happen. his spoiled brat wasn’t gonna cum until he felt she deserved so, which wasn’t gonna be anytime soon if he could do anything about it.

quick hands slap down on your ass, causing the marker in your hand to scribble slightly over the lines. a gasp escaping your lips your bottom lip trembling at the sight and rushing figuring out how to fix it. scarlet heels clacking together, his hands stop tracing the lace of your socks at your ankles.

ravishing in your panicked state, he smirks into your hair. grabbing the lollipop he snatched from you earlier from the desk, taking it into his mouth with a satisfying pop! ignoring your offended and hurt whimpers as your daddy steals your reward away from you due to your clumsiness. it makes your vision blurry and your bottom lip tremble violently, head echoing in only one thought and one thought only-

daddy is so mean, daddy’s a big fat meanie.

your thoughts roar but you didn’t mean to say any of them aloud, you’re so caught up in the moment that you have no idea you did so because now your ass is getting spanked again and again and again and again. all until your peach flesh burns and Ari can see the indents of his fingers on that heart shaped ass he loves so much before bringing his hand back in your hair.

tugging it so your spine suddenly arches back so his lips brush your ear, a gasp escaping your mouth. “I can be meaner princess. you stop coloring and I won’t let you cum. do you understand that? stupid whore.”

the growl rolls off his lips and it just adds onto the sheet of sweats glistening off your skin. tears drop from your lashes as shaky, trembling hands grip the markers as you persist on finishing the coloring page. feeling your body is on fire, your sobbing cunt continues to rock against his loins and the pleasure is almost unbearable you whimper.

the smirk plastered on Ari’s face is sinful, his hands unbutton his shirt to leave his chest bare. golden pendant glistening in the light bulbs of his office. back muscles resting against the leather of his office chair, he strokes his throbbing cock. biting his bottom lip enjoying the naked sight of his desperate slut for a precious princess bouncing and rocking on his thigh.

arms bended calmly behind his head, biceps slightly flexing as he licks on the lollipop he took from you. humming from its sweet taste while imagining it’s the nipples of your tits, his tongue flicking over the heart shape- sucking sharply on it. savoring the sweet cherry taste as his hands graze up to gripe your bouncing tits. savoring in your heavy moans, stiff sniffles and stuttering sobs all on the account of him.

like taking candy from a baby, his baby.

Ari thinks as he watched your ass bounce, sweat glistening off your skin as your heeled feet shake. moving back in your high unaware matter, your ass unintentionally brushes roughly against his balls. causing you to gasp and your daddy to grunt, ordering you to do it again which you do.

suddenly the thought of fucking your other tight hole full of his white ropes of cum takes over his mind but he was enjoying you trying to find a release. “maybe if you color the picture really nice for daddy then daddy will let you cum,”

Ari spoke, his voice soft and tender like always despite the current moments of viscously degrading and name calling you. you’ve always craved this part of him but who knew it would hurt your heart so fucking good with each insult and slap to your heart shaped ass.

although the remark creates a hopeful glisten in your relieved eyes, posture relaxing a bit. you were certain you wouldn’t be able finish it on time but maybe if you focus on making it look pretty- regardless of a few white spaces- daddy would let you have your cummies. Ari would kiss you on your pretty lips and make you undone with the sweetest command.

oh how you craved it this moment it’s bringing more tears to your eyes.

“r-really daddy?” you stutter, imagining the tenseness of his thigh as his cock. squeezing it just right around your walls as your eyes glue on the coloring sheet. grinding your pussy harder onto his jean covered thigh that let’s all your high pitched and stuttering moans flow like honey, “you really mean it?”

a dark glint shines in Ari’s blue hues, taking the lollipop out of his mouth his hand rubs his shaft painfully slow. that thumb that has been teasing your button glides past his weeping tip, his burning blue glance shifting to you. until his hand reaches up, causing you to moan when he grabs a handful of your hair.

oh how he was going to tear his poor princess down after building her a sense of hope.

“no,”

#brattycherubwrites #♡ ari levinson ♡#ari levinson × woc!reader #ari levinson × black!reader #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson smut #daddy!ari levinson × woc!reader #daddy!ari levinson × black!reader #daddy!ari levinson × reader #daddy!ari levinson smut #chris evans × woc!reader #chris evans × black!reader #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut #daddy!chris evans × woc!reader #daddy!chris evans × black!reader #daddy!chris evans × reader #daddy!chris evans smut #daddy!ari levinson × little!reader

479 notes · View notes

ukulelecal · 3 years

Text

Bloom - Part Two

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: a bit more angst but def more fluff. implied smut. a couple swears probably. hella feelings. mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: here is the second part!! less sad than the first!! lol anyways, i hope you guys love it, there will be one more part after this! reminder that feedback and reblogs are sosososo important to creators x

series masterlist

my masterlist // posted on ao3

*One year later*

Devon’s new school wasn’t all that she had imagined it to be.

Her classes were great. She was learning so much and her professors were very encouraging and helpful. Everything else, however, wasn’t so ideal.

She wasn’t fond of her classmates. Perhaps she was just so used to her old school, but everyone rubbed her the wrong way. She had only found a few friends that she trusted, but she didn’t even see them much. They had attended undergrad at that school, and they already knew everyone. Devon couldn’t quite make her way into the friend group.

She wasn’t a fan of the city, either. It simply didn’t have the vibe or the excitement that home did.

Home. She tried not to use that word to describe where she once lived, but her mind continuously went back to it. She knew exactly why.

That’s where Luke was.

Devon hadn’t heard from him since she moved. She left with a very brief goodbye and good luck wish, but that was it. She held back her tears during the Uber ride to the airport and all through the plane ride.

Luke, now alone in the apartment, broke down as soon as she left. He should have been the one taking her to the airport, kissing her goodbye and promising that everything would be okay. But nothing was okay anymore.

It had been a year since Devon moved, and the now broken up couple was doing a lot better. Devon distracted herself with schoolwork and trying to find her place in her new environment. She took up kickboxing as well as a way to let out her emotions, although the muscles she was developing were a plus as well.

Luke still had the same coping mechanism he always had; writing poetry. He poured his heart and soul into countless poems. They were completely raw, completely honest. He held nothing back. Frankly, they were his best work.

Devon’s first year of grad school officially came to an end. It was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was happy there, but she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to get her master’s, and she wasn’t going to quit. For herself and for her family.

A very unexpected text quickly changed any plans that Devon might have had for the summer.

It was from Luke.

“Hey Devon. I know it’s been a while and I hope grad school is going well. But it's official. My first poetry book is getting published. You probably don’t want to hear from me, and I understand, but you were always the person that believed in me the most. Thank you for that. Truly. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m having a release party in a few weeks. Nothing big, just close friends and family. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she saw his name flash across her screen. Not a single word had been exchanged between them in the past year. A part of Devon had been wishing that he would reach out, even if it was just to say hi and check in. She almost texted him a few times, but something always stopped her.

Hearing from him after so long brought an array of emotions, but the one that overwhelmed her the most was pride.

Devon knew how much this meant to him. He opened up to her about it on their very first date freshman year. She remembered sitting across from him at the coffee shop on campus, and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about releasing a book. She found his passion admirable, and she had every faith in him that he would succeed. She was his biggest supporter through the years; she was there to comfort him when he got rejected and help him through his bouts of writer’s block. He always told her that she was his biggest inspiration. Most of his poems ended up being about her in some capacity.

Despite everything that happened between, Devon couldn’t fathom missing this momentous time in his life.

With a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

“I would love to come. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

The weeks leading up to the party were utterly nerve wracking, for both Devon and Luke.

It took Luke a few days to work up the courage to invite Devon. He was scared she hated him and wouldn’t care to come, that she would be appalled at him thinking even for a second that she might want to see him again. It took a lot of convincing from Ashton, a college friend that he invited to move into the apartment once Luke realized he couldn’t afford the rent on his own and that he couldn’t stand being in the apartment by himself, but he did it. Luke wasn’t sure he breathed at all in the minutes it took her to respond.

Now that she was officially attending, it left the two to question what seeing each other would be like after a year apart. Would it be awkward? Would they end up having another argument and cause more pain? Would they be unrecognizable to each other?

The uncertainty was painstaking, but Devon reminded herself that she was there to support Luke, and Luke reminded himself that he would have given up a long time ago if it weren’t for Devon.

The time finally came for the release party. They both hardly slept the night before. Luke was alone in the bed that he used to share with the woman he hadn’t seen in a year, while she laid in a hotel bed just blocks away. Things felt different knowing that they weren’t hundreds of miles away anymore, and the next day they would see each other.

Devon pandered around her hotel room all day, doing her best to distract herself. She scrolled through every channel on the television, but nothing kept her attention. She did a workout, but every song on her workout playlist managed to remind her of Luke in some way.

They day dragged on until it was finally time for Devon to get ready. She played calming music in the shower to slow her heart rate and took her time doing her hair and makeup. It took some effort to steady her hands, but she got the job done.

Luke had been able to keep himself busy all day. A couple of his friends, Calum and Michael, shared a flat that was decently bigger than Luke’s apartment, and graciously offered to host the party there. Him and Ashton went over there early to make sure the place was clean and that all the food and drinks were ready.

Once guests started arriving, the nerves came back in full force.

He could only hope that he was really ready to see Devon.

For her, the Uber ride to the address Luke gave her hit every single red light. She bounced her leg in the back seat, unsure if she was thankful for the longer ride or if she hated it. On one hand, it gave her more time to prepare herself. However, every passing second made her nervousness increase.

Time stopped when the car parked in front of the flat.

She stared at it for a moment, the fact that Luke was just inside making her fingers tremble.

She didn’t realize she was still sitting there until the driver asked her if she was okay. She quickly thanked him and climbed out of the car.

Devon slowly made her way up the walkway, reminding herself with each step that this was a huge deal for Luke. His dreams were finally coming true. He had expressed to her that he credited her in part for his success. He must not have harbored any major negative feelings against her, otherwise she wouldn’t have been invited.

She almost felt a sense of calm as she reached the front door.

She slowly pushed it open, Luke having told her it would be unlocked and she could let herself in. Once inside, she didn’t see him right away. She recognized some friends from her undergraduate days, but nobody seemed to notice her right away.

A tall figure came out from the kitchen, and Devon had to do a double take.

Luke had certainly grown in their year apart.

His curls were shorter in the back and longer on top, and it looked like they had been dyed at some point. He opted for a pair of glasses instead of contacts, and he had a beard. She had never seen him with more than some stubble. He had on a forest green sweater that she always said was her favorite; she wondered if he had worn it on purpose. She couldn’t blame him if he did, considering she was wearing the long sleeved, yellow floral dress that Luke always said he loved on her.

He looked completely different, but at the same time, he was still her Luke.

All of her anxieties melted away the second he looked at her.

“Devon.”

It felt so natural. It was as if all of the pain that came from the last time they saw each other had gone away. They both knew in the back of their minds there wasn’t any bad blood between them, as much as their breakup hurt. Neither had exactly done anything wrong.

“You made it,” he continued through a deep breath.

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Lu.”

Devon looked the same. Her hair was a little longer than the last time he saw her, and he could tell that she had put on some muscle from the way she filled out her dress a little more. She looked good, healthy.

Luke silently thanked whoever was listening that she seemed alright, at least physically. He could acknowledge that he went into a bit of a downward spiral in terms of taking care of himself when she left. He hardly slept and completely shut himself out from everyone that reached out to him. Ashton moving in helped, but certain days made it bad again, like when their anniversary and Devon’s birthday passed. He didn’t want the same for her. He wanted her to do better than him.

Devon had her bad days too. She did better at the beginning when she had so much on her plate, but once things settled down, she was a wreck for a while, not much different than what Luke was like.

He hesitated only a moment before taking Devon into his arms. He prepared himself for her to pull away, but she did quite the opposite. She melted into him, cheek resting against the soft material of his sweater.

Devon remembered all the times she needed a hug. Whenever she had a bad day or was stressed out over school or simply just wanted to be held, Luke was always there. He would mumble a soft assurance under his breath as he took her into his arms, holding her tight as if she’d be gone forever if he let go. He would whisper whatever it was she needed to hear at the moment, although sometimes it was nothing at all.

She didn’t realize how badly she needed this one.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dev,” Luke whispered into her hair. He could smell the same coconut shampoo she always used and the warm, sweet perfume she always wore. It brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

“I’m glad to be here. I...I really missed you, Luke.”

The confession felt good. She tried to deny the fact that she missed him, but seeing him again, she realized how much she really had.

“I missed you too.”

Luke pulled away from the hug and kept his hands on Devon’s shoulders. The same blue eyes met the same brown ones. The ghosts of smiles tugged at their corners of their lips. Every worry they had about seeing each other had gone away.

“I want to say congratulations on your book,” Devon mumbled, fiddling with the small clutch she brought. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “I have to say, I-”

His sentence got caught off by a shout of his name from an arriving guest. He sighed and sent Devon an apologetic look. There was a lot that needed to be said, so much that needed to be talked about, but they knew that this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

“It’s fine, go on. We’ll catch up later, bub-” she cut herself off, the pet name she called him so often about to slip from her lips so naturally. “Okay?”

Luke sighed sadly but gave her a smile. He understood why she stopped herself, but God, he would have loved to hear her call him that again.

“Okay. See you in a bit, Dev.”

Luke slowly walked away to greet the new arrivals while Devon wandered off to find people she knew. She came across her good friends from undergrad - mutual between her and Luke - who thankfully seemed excited to see her. They made small talk and asked about grad school before easing into questions about Luke. She should have expected it, but she hadn’t talked much about the breakup since it first happened. It was easy to simply not mention it to her grad school group and they wouldn’t know the difference, but these were the girls that she called sobbing at random times during the day when she needed to talk. It was natural that they were curious.

“Did you two talk at all while you were gone?” One asked, and Devon shook her head.

“No,” she sighed. “I think that was best, though.”

Devon’s eyes trailed to the right. Luke was talking to some family members, laughing. A small grin tugged at the corners of her lips. His laugh was musical and contagious. She always felt proud of herself when she made him laugh. Not that it was a difficult task; he loved to laugh. For Devon, getting to hear the noise was like a gift.

“Dev!”

She snapped her gaze back to her friends. Their expressions were a mixture of smug and concerned. It was obvious that Devon hadn’t gotten over Luke in the past year. She still looked at him the same way she always did. They were still concerned that she would get her heart broken again.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Devon glanced over at him one more time. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t. She almost threw away her shoebox of poems just to prove it to herself, but she couldn’t do it. It would always be him.

“Of course I do.”

…

The rest of the night, Luke and Devon didn’t speak. They weren’t avoiding each other, but the weight of the conversation they needed to have required the crowd to go away and the festivities to die down before it could happen. They exchanged glances and small smiles, saving the talking for later.

Devon purposely hung back as the crowd startled to trickle out the door. Luke had made a small speech thanking everyone for coming and celebrating with him. Everyone took it as the hint that the party was over. Deciding to help out while she waited, Devon busied herself cleaning up a bit in the kitchen.

Footsteps caught her attention, but they didn’t belong to who she figured they did. Instead of seeing Luke, she saw Ashton. He was Luke’s best friend, and while him and Devon never got super close, she still considered him a friend.

“Hey, Dev,” Ashton greeted with a grin, opening his arms for a hug that she gladly accepted.

“Hi, Ash. How have you been?”

“Good. Just working,” he chuckled as he pulled away from the hug. “You? How’s grad school?”

“It’s pretty good.” Good if he asked about her academics and not her social life, that is.

“That’s good.”

Ashton leaned against the counter across from her, shooting her a look. She raised her eyebrows in expectation.

“Luke’s been freaking out, you know,” Ashton mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets. “About seeing you.”

Devon sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Somehow, knowing that he was nervous too was comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t just me.”

“He really missed you. I’m sure he’ll tell you all this himself, but in case you don’t believe him, take it from me. He missed you so, so much.”

Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. It was good to hear it from someone else.

“I missed him too. A lot.”

Before Ashton could reply, Luke stepped into the kitchen, eyes flickering back and forth between his best friend and his ex girlfriend. Words got caught in Devon and Luke’s throats, neither of them sure what to say.

“I guess that’s my cue to get out,” Ashton joked, breaking the awkward silence. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home, Luke.”

The man walked out of the kitchen to help Calum and Michael clean up in the living room while Devon turned to look at Luke with furrowed eyebrows.

“Home?” She questioned.

“Ashton moved into the apartment a little while after you left,” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. He took Ashton’s spot against the counter. “I needed a roommate to help with the rent.”

He left out the fact that being alone in there only reminded him that she was gone and he needed someone to keep him company.

Devon nodded in understanding, but felt another twinge of guilt. She hadn’t considered that she was leaving the financial burden onto him. Thankfully Ashton was there.

“How was your night?” Devon asked genuinely. The party was to celebrate his success, and she genuinely hoped he enjoyed it.

“It was really great.” Luke sent her a thankful grin. “I know I said it before, but it really means a lot to me that you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to come.”

“This is everything you’ve ever wanted. After everything we’ve been through, I would never miss this moment in your life.”

Devon sent him a sad smile that he returned. There was still so much that needed to be said, so much to discuss. A tension hung between them, but not one of anxiety or dread. It was desperation and desire. A yearning for what they once had.

“We need to talk, Dev,” Luke whispered what they were both thinking. “Like, really talk.”

“I know we do.” She glanced at the clock on the wall beside his head. “But it’s getting late. My flight back isn’t until Monday. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow, if you’re free? Get lunch?”

Luke nodded in agreement. It would be best if they both got some sleep and recharged before talking seriously.

“That sounds good.” Luke turned to look at the clock as well and laughed. “I know it’s past your bedtime.”

Devon rolled her eyes playfully. She was the “go to bed early, wake up early” type, while Luke was the opposite.

“Exactly. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Boy, do I know it.”

The two laughed together, for the first time in a long time. It felt so right.

“I should head back then,” Devon announced, reaching behind to grab her clutch that she had set on the counter. “Let me just call an Uber and I’ll be out of here.”

“Don’t worry about that. Ash and I came together, he’ll drive you back. Where are you staying?”

Not one to turn down a free ride, Devon rattled off the name of her hotel. Luke led her to the living room to get Ashton and say goodbye to Calum and Michael. Luke thanked them again for letting him have the party at their place before they were out the door and piled in Ashton’s car. Luke took shotgun while Devon slipped into the back.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. Only Ashton’s soft indie music and the sound of other cars filled the car. Shortly, Ashton pulled to a stop in front of Devon’s hotel. Luke turned around in his seat to face her.

“Thanks again for coming, Dev,” he mumbled softly, a grin on his face.

“Thanks for inviting me. And thanks for the ride, Ashton.” He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned her gaze back to Luke. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Who knows what tomorrow would bring?

“See you tomorrow.”

Devon climbed out of the car and headed towards the doors, sparing one last glance and a wave before heading inside. Luke watched as she walked in, a small sigh escaping his lips. He turned his head to see Ashton with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Luke questioned.

“You still love her, don’t you, mate?”

Luke sighed again, glancing back towards the doors. Devon was already out of sight, probably in the elevator already. He knew exactly what she was going to do when she got to her room. She would kick off her shoes and then take her makeup off. She’d go through her night time skin care routine, put her hair in a bun with a silk scrunchie, and finally change into her pajamas, which were usually just a big t-shirt and panties. She would probably spend some time reading or watching cooking videos on TikTok before going to bed.

“Of course I do.”

…

Devon swiped one last bit of lip gloss across her lips when Luke texted her that he was outside. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and phone before heading downstairs to meet him.

The anxiety was coming back. Seeing Luke was one thing, but having a full on conversation was another. It didn’t help that the conversation would surely lead to the topic of their relationship. Their breakup.

Luke was feeling similarly. He had paced around the apartment all morning until Ashton gave him a pep talk. He reminded him that if they didn’t talk, Devon would just leave again and nothing would change. Nothing would get fixed.

The sound of a creaky car door opening snapped Luke from his thoughts, looking up to see Devon climbing in. He sent her a smile.

“Hey, Dev.”

“Hey, Luke. Bertha’s still kicking, I see?” Devon joked as she buckled her seatbelt. She knew that Luke wasn’t going to get rid of his beloved Prius until absolutely necessary, but the fact that the car still functioned at all was shocking.

“I think it might be her time soon, but for now, she gets me where I need to go.”

Bertha survived the drive to the small diner that Devon and Luke agreed on, albeit the radio cut out a few times. It was a new place and Luke had been wanting to try it. A part of Devon wondered if he really wanted to try it or if he just didn’t want to take her to one of the places that they frequented when they were together. Frankly, she wouldn’t have wanted to go to one of their old spots either. It would have felt too odd.

Once inside and seated, a waitress came to take coffee orders before scurrying away.

“Tell me about grad school,” Luke began, saving the more serious topics of conversation for later. It was best to start off casual and simply catch up on everything that had happened in the past year.

“It’s alright,” Devon sighed. She would have fibbed, but she felt no need to lie to Luke. “My classes are great. I’ve learned so much and my professors are awesome. It’s just…”

She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words without sounding pathetic. She didn’t want Luke to judge her.

“What?” He pressed gently, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s the other students, I guess. Everyone at our school was so great, but the people there are just not so friendly. And most of the other grad students did undergrad there, so I couldn’t really fit my way into a friend group. And there’s just not as much to do in the city as there is here,” she explained, her hands occupying themselves with the napkin in her lap.

She locked eyes with Luke, waiting for his response. He could have used it against her. He could have guilt tripped her for leaving and then not being happy. But Luke would never do that and Devon knew it.

“Well that’s not good,” he mumbled sincerely. “I’m sorry, Dev.”

He truly did feel bad. Every day while Devon was gone, he thought about her. He hoped she was having a good day and that her education was going well. It pained him to think that she wasn’t having a great time.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m there for my master’s, not to make friends.” The waitress came back with their drinks and took their lunch orders. “Anyways, tell me about your book! What happened with the publishers and everything?”

The fact that Devon’s grad school wasn’t everything that she had imagined was still bothering him but Luke went along, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“I sent another draft to one of the ones that was interested before, a while after you left. He said he liked the majority of it but wanted a few different ones. It took me a while to figure out what he wanted, but eventually I got it,” he rambled. “I’m really happy with it.”

“I’m glad,” she replied, heart swelling with pride. “When does it come out?”

“Next week.”

Devon hummed in acknowledgement, already making a mental note to pick up a copy for herself.

“How about work?” She questioned after a sip of her cappuccino.

“You’ll never believe it,” Luke chuckled. “I got promoted to a manager position.”

“Really? It’s about time!”

Devon and Luke had a running joke about Luke’s job. He had been there the longest other than the owner, an old woman who still moved like a teenager. She always hung a promotion over his head, suggesting it but never following through. Luke knew she was planning on giving it to him eventually. It was just a matter of time until she actually did, and the two would always make jokes about it.

They made small talk until their food came, causing the duo to fall into silence. Meaningless conversation about the weather could only last so long until what really needed to be talked about came out.

Soup and sandwiches didn’t last long enough. Their plates were cleared and there was no point in stalling anymore.

“I think we fucked up.”

Luke’s statement was unsugarcoated. He couldn't say for sure how Devon felt, but every day throughout the past year, Luke felt like he was making a mistake. Everyone around them was shocked at the news of their breakup; if there were any college sweethearts that would actually last, it would be them. That certainly didn’t help Luke’s pain when everyone else knew it was a mistake too.

Devon felt tears burn the back of her eyes as she nodded softly. He was right. Perhaps it was best at the time, but they couldn’t do another year of being apart.

“I think we did.”

Her voice broke, taking a deep breath to calm herself down and not cry in the restaurant.

“Hey,” Luke cooed soothingly, noticing the tears and reaching across the table for her hand. As his hand encased hers, at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

Luke paid the check and made their way back to Bertha. The need for privacy left them with two options; Devon’s hotel room or the apartment.

“Maybe we could go to my hotel room,” Devon suggested. “That way we won’t bother Ashton.”

That was only part of the reason. Devon wasn’t sure how she would feel if she stepped into her old home in the current state of their relationship. All of the memories her and Luke had would come flooding back. The hotel room was a neutral place without connection to what once was.

Luke agreed and drove to the location he remembered from the night before. The elevator ride up to Devon’s room was heavily silent, hands brushing against each other but never interlocking. The sound of the door shutting behind them once in the room was thunderous, the sound signifying that there was absolutely nothing between them and the inevitable anymore.

They stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking anywhere but each other. There was no good way to start the conversation. There was no easy way to talk about a painful breakup that led to a year apart, then being reunited.

Without the right words in mind, Devon threw herself at Luke. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle and buried her head into his chest. Luke returned the gesture, holding her as close as he could. The hug said more than what either of them could put into words.

It wasn’t until a few minutes that Devon finally found something to say.

“I can’t keep doing this, Lu,” she whispered shakily. “I can’t keep missing you like this.”

“This is all my fault, Dev. I was the one who didn’t think we could do it. Fuck, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Devon surely didn’t think it was his fault. He had every right to be upset that she was moving so far away, and he had every right to be scared of what the distance would do to their relationship. She felt the same way. They broke up to spare themselves the pain of long distance. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that the pain of being broken up was much, much worse.

As much as she tried to push the thoughts away, Devon couldn’t help thinking about how if she hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened. She knew that she did nothing wrong and that her education was just as important, but she had never intended to pursue it in expense of her relationship.

“This isn’t your fault. It was both of us. We were just saving ourselves from the pain. Besides, I was the one that left-”

“No,” Luke cut her off, glancing down at her. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Devon lifted her head up to meet his gaze. His face was serious but his eyes were completely sincere. She had always feared that he would hold a grudge against her for leaving. One look into the gorgeous blue eyes that she fell in love with told her that he didn’t.

“I never want you to blame this on you going to grad school. I want you to know that I completely support your decision and all your aspirations, honey. I will never hold that against you.”

Tears brimmed Devon’s eyes again, but these weren’t tears of pain. They were of love and adoration. Luke was the most amazing man she had ever known. He had a heart of gold and was one hell of a poet. She had never felt so loved as she felt by him.

“Please tell me this isn’t over, Luke,” she whispered, hands moving to cup his bearded cheeks. A single tear slipped down the soft skin of Devon’s cheek. “I love you. I never stopped. Please tell me there can be an us again.”

Luke wasn’t sure when he started crying, but a sudden wetness on his cheek alerted him of the act. His hands tugged Devon’s waist to bring her closer, noses brushing touching and breath mingling. They could hardly remember the last time they had been that close, the last time they felt love so intensely.

“I’ve wanted us back since that day a year ago. I love you more than anything, Devon. Always have, always will.”

For the first time in over a year, Luke and Devon’s lips connected in a kiss. It was nothing short of passionate and heavy. The love they hadn’t been able to express for so long was rising to the surface, coming out in the form of mumbled words, bruising kisses and desperate touches.

Frantic fingers worked the buttons of Devon’s flannel, slowly pushing her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. The offending item was discarded to the floor and the newly reunited couple crawled onto the bed. Devon shivered under Luke, a reaction caused by a mixture of the cool sheets against her bare back and his lips on her neck, his beard providing a new sensation that she hadn’t felt before.

The past year was difficult. If they could go back in time and fix it, they would jump on the opportunity without a second thought. But just maybe, it made them stronger. Maybe they needed to begin to wilt in order for them to bloom.

…

“What do we do now?”

Devon curled closer to Luke as a crisp breeze cut through the darkening evening. He sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around them.

“I’m not sure.”

The couple sat in the trunk of Luke’s car with the door popped open, parked at a lookout point that overlooked the city. It was something they used to do all the time in college. It was comforting to return to their old traditions, knowing that they had fixed what they broke.

It was Sunday evening, the day before Devon flew back to her grad school city. They may have gotten back together, but they were still faced with the same problem as when they broke up. Devon still had a whole year of grad school left, miles away.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” Devon admitted, eyes fixed on the city lights. Luke snapped his head to look at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you don’t want to finish your degree?”

Luke would never forgive himself if she gave up her master’s degree because of him. He didn’t want the distance either, but he could never hold her back from her dreams.

“No, no, I want to finish. I just...I wasn’t happy in that city. This is my home. I’m happy here,” she explained. She tore her eyes away from the view in favor of looking at her boyfriend. “With you.”

Luke dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her temple. Devon leaned into the affection that she had missed so much.

“It’s up to you, honey. I don’t want to hold you back. Just know that if you do stay there, I’m going to really try this time. I promise we’ll make it work, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Devon grinned at his words. She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that; that the past wouldn’t repeat itself. However, she didn’t want to put either of them through the suffering of a long distance relationship when she didn’t even want to be away.

“I appreciate that, bubs. But I just can’t do that to us after everything we’ve been through.” She thought for a moment, trying to decipher the best course of action. “Maybe I could finish online.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement; it was a good compromise. Devon got to finish her degree at the school with the best program, and she didn’t have to be so far away. It benefitted Luke as well, not just her. However, he didn’t want to sway her either way.

“If that’s what you want, honey. This is your decision.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze as she thought it over. The only sounds to be heard were the gentle hum of the city below them and the cold breeze that ruffled the trees. It was so familiar. They had spent countless nights like this, simply enjoying each other’s company and rewinding from hectic college life. Luke had to remind himself that they weren’t undergraduate students anymore; Devon was in grad school and he was a published poet.

It was baffling how everything felt like it had gone back to the way it was, yet things were actually so very different.

“That’s what I want,” Devon announced with confidence after a few moments of pondering. “I want to stay here.”

Matching lovesick grins spread across their faces as they locked eyes. She scooted closer to Luke, if that was even possible, nudging her nose against his.

“You’re sure?” He verified, eyes fluttering closed.

“So very sure.”

He chuckled lowly before closing the gap. The air between them was finally clear. Their relationship was fixed and they would still be together. No more pain and suffering.

Devon rested her head on Luke’s shoulder when the kiss broke, breathing out a content sigh. They enjoyed the silence for a moment before Devon piped up with a question.

“Can I move back into the apartment?”

“Of course you can,” Luke chuckled. “That’s our place. Why couldn’t you?”

“What about Ashton?”

“He understands our situation, babe. He saw this coming. He already asked Calum and Michael if he could take the extra bedroom at their flat if it came to this, and they agreed. As long as you’re fine with living with him for a little while until he moves out, then he’s fine with it too.”

Devon let out a breathy laugh, nodding in understanding.

“I mean, I’ll still have to go back to my apartment out there for a bit to get my stuff.” She looked up at Luke with a hopeful glint in her eye. “Do you think you could come with and help? It’s alright if you can’t.”

“I can come, honey. I’ll see if I can fly out with you tomorrow, but if not I can come a couple days later, so you don’t have to change yours.” A smirk spread across his face before continuing. “Or we could just wait to go together and stay here for another few days. You know, catch up a little more.”

Devon laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder.

“What a way with words you have, Hemmings. No wonder you’re a poet.”

“Speaking of poetry, I have something for you.”

Luke pressed a swift kiss to Devon’s cheek before hopping out of the trunk. He opened the door to the back seat and rifled around for a moment, then returning to face Devon. He removed his hand from behind his back, holding it out to her.

“For you.”

Devon took the item from his hand curiously. It only took a moment for her to realize what it was.

It was a book titled The Life of a Flower. The cover was a stunning photo of two orchids side by side, and Luke’s name was printed across the bottom.

His first poetry book.

“You’re the first person to get a copy,” he mumbled sheepishly, breaking Devon from her trance of staring at it. She couldn’t help the tears of pride that welled in her eyes. If seeing the actual, physical book in person was such an emotional moment for her, she couldn’t even imagine how Luke must have felt when he saw it for the first time.

“This is incredible, Luke,” she whispered, smiling despite her tears. “I’m so proud of you, bubs, so fucking proud.”

Devon dropped the blanket from her shoulders and hopped down from the trunk. Her arms found their way around his neck while his found her waist. Pride was an understatement. She had been there every step of the way, and seeing his dreams finally come to life was a wonderful sight to see.

“Thank you, Devon,” Luke whispered into her hair. “For being my biggest supporter. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It’s not me, Lu,” she mumbled in response, tilting her head up to look at him. “You have a gift. Your writing got you here, not me.”

“I would have given up on writing a long time ago if I didn’t have you. You give me an endless amount of inspiration that I never had before. A poet’s words are meaningless if his muse isn’t worth writing about.”

“Damn. William Shakespeare has nothing on you,” she joked although she was absolutely melting on the inside. Luke groaned playfully.

“You always ruin the moment. Anyway, look at the first pages.”

Devon removed her arms from his neck to flip through, skipping past the title page, copyright and table of contents until she found what he was talking about. She found a dedications page that only made her tear up again, reading:

“For Devon. You’ll always be my orchid.”

66 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 3 years

Text

Title: Centerfold [Pt.2]

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

(Read Part one here)

Beca Mitchell’s phone was a box of constant communication. She had her emails redirected so that she could feel every single time she needed to address something at the office, even if she was there and the soft pinging culminated in the very screen she stared at. She had a multitude of contacts and would video chat with the team in Italy, and sometimes L.A.

So, what she knew deep down, was that it was impossible for her not to look at her phone all day. Physically she had to check the notifications to keep her world running. Emily intercepted most of them, keeping her deep stare on her own screen before glancing up at her boss every couple of minutes. They were both on edge and Beca didn’t much appreciate the tension that sparked between them.

She held her breathe each time a new ping sounded off until eventually that lull of anxiety was hushed to a dull ache in the pit of her chest. She went through her morning meets and a new presentation to her team about how their coding for a new watch wasn’t up to parr- they had a few days to fix it before it dropped, and the CEO made sure she knew that.

When the notification from Chloe did finally come through, Beca almost didn’t’ notice. She registered the pink of the logo that slowly shifted to a deep purple. But the name? Oh, the name she hadn’t clocked for a few seconds after that. And even then, Chloe Beale? Her Chloe, actually responded.

Beca lilted the computer screen and frantically looked up at Emily, who was already at her door. She didn’t bother to knock. Instead, she situated the office and closed the blinds and very coolly, but not so coolly, pressed her back against the wood and breathed.

“Dude,” Beca said.

“I know,” Emily said “Did you read it?”

She hadn’t read it. She hadn’t even thought to read it because her mind got stuck behind the massive roadblock that was Chloe Beale and her stupid pun username. She opened the application and hesitated over the message icon. She was supposed to be playing it hard to get like she didn’t’ care if she even got a response. But she did care and apparently so did her assistant because she was right behind her, blindly gawking like her halo fell into her eyes and blinded her from right and wrong.

“If I click this she’ll see that I read it and then there’s no going back.”

“You don’t want to go back, do you?”

“You told me to keep her guessing,”

“Truthfully, I didn’t think you’d even get a response.” Emily shrugged sheepishly “Figured you would forget about it in a few days and… open it.”

Beca frowned but hovered the mouse over the message. She wanted to close her eyes but felt like she was watching a car accident, complete with the red and blue flashing lights and the metallic crunch of metal. Either way, she couldn't avert her stare. She didn’t want to.

Chloe: Hey stranger. I must admit that I was never expecting to hear from you again, big shot manager. I’ve kept my tabs on you… New York is my home, so if you’re serious about coffee, so am I.

Her breath caught in her throat. Chloe Fucking Beale had said yes. Her childhood love had agreed to coffee that neither of them could probably stomach. Chloe Fucking Beale who was a playboy model with more than a million Instagram followers, and Chloe Fucking Beale who she was pretty sure she still loved.

There had been other people, men, and women that she had thought she fell for. She folded into soft touches and stronger commands. She was happy for months at a time and on one rare occasion a full year with a man who ran his own tours of the city. But none of those relationships had ever been like the one she had with Chloe.

Beca pulled in a long breath that filled her lungs with stale coffee and copy paper. She tilted her lid and looked to Emily because she was the expert. And Beca was frozen. That same cold excitement filled her and it also rocked her ever-loving shit. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think.

Emily looked at the darkened screen, then at her boss, then back at the screen before lunging forward and typing back a reply. Perfect. Are you free this Saturday?

It turns out that Chloe was free that Saturday and if she wasn’t, she didn’t’ say a word and quietly cleared her schedule. The day was quickly approaching and Beca really wanted to know why the New York Branch put her in charge of everything when she could barely figure out what to wear to a simple cup of coffee.

This felt more like a simple cup of coffee.

Emily eventually got tired of the barrage of pictures she was getting and took a cab to Beca’s apartment an hour before the actual date. They settled on black jeans and a blue button-down that Emily pulled closer to her chest for extra measure because according to her “You look good in anything and Chloe won’t be able to make eye contact with you.”

Then she was on a subway that smelled like stale snow and hot morning breath. They picked a small shop downtown that not many people knew about. It was a feat in the city to find a place that wasn’t packed like a sardine can and Beca trusted Chloe’s judgment tenfold.

Beca got there first, and her palms were sweating despite the cool atmosphere that swept through the little shop each time the door opened. It was a meta cross between a thrifted bookstore and a café. People sat and ate and read and the scent of what Beca imagined old magic to be, mingled well with coffee grinds and fresh pastries.

She ordered a simple black americano and settled by the front window, the glass fogged from a warm contrast with the cold of the busy street and curved lettering faced the patrons. There was a simple logo and one barista behind the counter. She chose a random book and pretended to read, but only skimmed the same paragraph over and over again.

Her main focus was on the door and the bell that chimed each time it was opened. One of those times, after a businessman and a hipster kid hugging his laptop close to his chest, it was Chloe. Soft and vibrant compared to the rest of the dim academic setting.

Her hair was pulled behind her ears and a pair of golden framed glasses rested on her nose. She had aged like wine and the wind that blew in behind her carried the sweet scent of southern peaches through the front door. She wore a white sweater with a plaid peacoat and high wasted jeans, and Beca knew she was staring.

Everyone was, they couldn’t’ help it. She overtook the room with a warm and sparked presence. If anyone recognized her they didn’t’ say a thing, out of saving their own face or because the girl in the centerfold of the latest playboy was wildly different than the one standing in front of her. This… this was her Chloe.

She didn’t’ know if she could hug Chloe, if touching was okay, but as she stood to greet her, she was pulled into the warmth of the woman. She was wrapped in overwhelming touch and emotion and she buried her nose into Chloe’s hair as they held onto each other, not quite willing to let go of the familiarity before realizing that it was inappropriate not to.

“Wow,” Chloe ran her hands down Beca’s arms, stopping at her elbows “You haven’t aged a day, have you?”

“It’s the lighting in here, I think it’s one step up from basement overhead.”

Chloe laughed and it was a magical sound. The only thing more intoxicating was her smile, which never seemed to leave her lips as she ordered her own drink, something loaded with sugar and caramel, and leaned forward across the table to get a better look at her date.

Beca sipped her coffee and quirked an eyebrow “What?”

“I haven’t seen you in ten years, I think it’s perfectly acceptable for me to study you.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” She tested “What have you been up to all these years?”

Chloe leaned back in her seat and cupped her mug. It was a russet red and steam rose from the pale liquid that soaked inside. There was a sickeningly sweet odor to it and part of Beca regretted ordering nothing but a black coffee. It seemed like a disservice to the atmosphere of the shop.

“Oh, a bunch of stuff here and there. I used to be based out of LA, I did a lot of acting there. Little stuff like soap operas and a couple of commercials. It wasn’t for me, though so I moved here to pursue modeling and it’s been going well. Really well.”

Beca didn’t’ want to mention the playboy magazine or the curve of Chloe’s legs and the way her skin shown under the bright summer sun. She never returned it to Jason because he never asked for it back. It was an unspoken solidarity between the two.

“That’s amazing,” Beca smiled, feeling excitement in her chest “Anything I would recognize?”

Chloe hummed into her drink “Mm, maybe a few things. It depends on how you feel about Playboy. I never thought you were much of a reader.”

Beca looked down dejectedly at the old spined book to her right. It was true, she hadn’t read the Catcher in the Rye and she barely got through the introduction paragraph because of the nerves and the heartbeat that beat so strongly against the inside of her wrist right now.

“I’m not usually. But I do enjoy looking at the pictures.” Beca flicked her stare back towards the woman across from her “Though, that’s not the reason I reached out to you.”

“Truth is, I’ve always wanted to message you, but you looked like you were doing so well. Like you were so happy. I didn’t want to throw you off or seem like I was chasing something that we used to have.” She said, “So I waited.”

It was Beca’s turn to laugh, “I felt the same exact way. We’re both pretty stupid, then huh? Waiting like this for something we knew… for something we knew we wanted.”

Chloe smiled wider and clinked her mug against Beca’s yellow one, not spilling any of the mostly full drink. “To being stupid. And getting to know each other all over again.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They sat and talked until they were the only two in the coffee shop and Beca even dared to kiss Chloe when they got to the subway platform. She tasted like caramel and sunshine if such a thing was even possible.

But it was because she had found Chloe. Centerfold Chloe. High school Chloe, and most importantly, her Chloe.

#Beca Mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic rec #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fandom #pitch perfect fanfiction #Bechloe Fanfic #Bechloe fanfiction #Request #au

36 notes · View notes

1-800-hellraiser · 3 years

Text

EWTBATF Vlahd x Teen!reader Oneshot

(!NOTE: THIS IS NOT A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE READER AND VLAHD, THIS IS A FATHER DAUGHTER TYPE RELATIONSHIP!

Hello! I made this oneshot for people with daddy issues who used to simp for Vlahd but now want him to be your dad. The reader uses they/them pronouns because I want everyone to be able to feel included while reading this.

Vlahd and Eddsworld The Beginning and The Friend doesn't belong to me! It's a fancomic made by Makenzie Matthews, Jaculynn Kristiansen, Alyssa Grissom and Brittany Clark. Eddsworld belongs to Edd Gould. If I use any art in this oneshot I will credit the artist and give their socials.

P.s: If this is well received, I might make a story about this, so stay tuned~

P.p.s: I know this isn't Creepypasta content, but I felt like doing something a bit different.)

!DISCLAIMER! This oneshot deals with a lot of gore, mental, emotional, and physical abuse, fighting, missing body parts, and swearing! If you are sensitive to these topics, I advise you don't read this oneshot! Also, some spoilers for the fancomic EWTBOTF, so if you haven't read it or haven't been reading it for the past few months, I urge you to do so. Not just for this oneshot, but the comic is also pretty good!

Tessellate

Word count: 3,569

Song: Tessellate - Alt J

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

"Three guns, and one goes off. Ones empty, ones not quick enough. One burn, one red, one grin. Search the graves while the camera spins."

The same thing happened every single day. You would wake up to screaming, try to shower and do your morning routine without being interrupted, spend the rest of the day your home trying not to get involved with your parent's marital issues, go to school, do chores, get screamed at for not doing something right, eat dinner, do homework, cry, then go to bed. This was your life since you were ten years old. Your biological father died when you were nine, then your mother got remarried a few months after your tenth birthday.

Your parents were very emotionally and mentally abusive. Sometimes they hit you, but would feign sorrow to try to make you feel safe around them. They continued this behavior for years, until you were thirteen. Apparently, your stepfather had gotten into some shady business with the infamous Red Leader. You had to move from your home country to England so your stepfather could work with the Red Leader. You were miserable, you had lost all of your friends you had in school. You had to go to a private boarding school, you never got picked on, but you found it hard to make friends. After a few moths, you finally got comfortable with your new surroundings.

One day though, that all changed for the worse. Your mom and stepfather got into a huge argument, apparently your mom was cheating on a man in the same army as your stepfather. He hit your mom, your mom left right after that. He then hit you really hard in the face, so hard that it left a mark. You burst into tears and ran to your room. You emptied out your book bag, and threw some clothes, hygienic products, your phone and charger, etc, into it. You quietly walked out of your room and out the front door while your dad wasn't looking. You walked down the streets of your neighborhood and out into the little town a few blocks away.

Popping your earbuds in, you listen to some music to try and calm yourself down. You walk around town for a about an hour before you passed a creepy alleyway. Unbeknownst to you, a man stepped out of that alleyway. He lightly tapped you on the shoulder. You stop dead in your tracks. You shakily turn around and take out your earbud to confront the man. A man with shaggy brown hair, an eyepatch, big eyebrows, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth stood before you. Its Paul, your stepfather's mate!

Paul asked why you weren't at your house and offered to take you back. You explained what happened and Paul was shocked and disgusted with your stepfather's behavior. He took you back to the Red Army base and let you stay there. You agree and he takes you to the base. As soon as you get there, Paul took you to talk with Red Leader himself. Scared, you explain to the Red Leader what happened with your mom and stepdad. Red Leader let you stay on base on one condition. You have to serve in the Red Army when you turn sixteen. You agreed because you had nowhere else to go.

It's been five months since your sixteenth birthday. You have been integrated into the Red Army, and you have made a bunch of freinds on the base. It's not so bad working for the Red Army. You even have a father figure now. Even though you'd never tell him you consider him a father figure, in fear of him not being ready to be a dad and pushing you away. Sargent Major Vlahd has been training you since you were fourteen. You started out being very skittish towards him. You didn't know what he would do to you. Eventually, you two have grown closer and closer together.

Vlahd has been teaching you Russian, and you have been working your ass off during training with him. He has taken you under his wing and now you live with him in an apartment Red Leader has for him. All of Red's most important people have their own apartment-type rooms. Vlahd's is built with a living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and an entire ass library. Your room is right across from Vlahds. You have to do chores in your and Vlahd's apartment as well, but it's a small price to pay for a roof over your head and a non-toxic father figure.

"Y/n, ужины готовы (Y/n, dinner's ready)." Vlahd calls from the kitchen, you get up from your desk and decide to finish your studies later. You walk into the kitchen and see a big pot on the stove, whenever that big pot comes out, you know he's making borscht. You celebrate in silence and take a bowl from the cupboard. You spoon some borscht into your bowl, then you proceed to the dinning room table to sit with Vlahd. A little tradition you both started to do to make tou more comfortable around him. "So, how was your day?" You ask, to get a conversation going. "Все было хорошо, а как насчет твоего (It was okay, what about yours?)?" "Mine was pretty good." You say, spooning some borscht into your mouth.

"О, между прочим, Красный Лидер хочет, чтобы я нашел солдата, который недавно ушел из МВД. Так что завтра тебе не нужно тренироваться или учиться, у тебя выходной (Oh, by the way, Red Leader wants me to go find a soldier who has gone MIA recently. So you don't have to do any training or studies tomorrow, you have the day off.)." Vlahd finishes. You nod your head in understanding. "Who do you have to find?" It was often that soldiers went MIA to try and get out of the army and Red Leader's deal. Red is a ruthless man. "Мэтт, я думаю, его зовут (Matt, I think his name is)."

A small 'ohhhhh' left your mouth. Vlahd has had problems with this soldier before. He was not following orders, so Vlahd was ordered to contain him with any force necessary. That didn't go so well. Apparently, another person with Matt turned into a fucking horned beast and sent Vlahd to the medical wing for two weeks. He had broken two of Vlahds ribs and broke his leg. Finishing up your borscht, you bid Vlahd a goodnight, put your bowl and spoon in the sink, and return back to your room to finish your studies before you go to bed.

You awake to your alarm beeping at you. Sighing, you begrudgingly get up and put on your uniform and proceed to role call . After that, you take off your uniform and pick out your clothes for the day. If you're off duty, you don't have to wear your uniform. You pull out a f/c sweater and a pair of black jeans. You get dressed and go to the bathroom, Vlahd has already left, so you have the bathroom all to yourself. You take a shower and proceed with your morning routine. After you're done, you decide to make yourself some toast and have a nice cup of coffee. After you finish your breakfast, you clean up the kitchen and bathroom out of boredom. You pull out your phone and check the time. The digital screen reads 10:36 am, you groan out of boredom. Then, a wonderful idea popped into your head, you decided to take a walk off base.

You made sure to write a note for Vlahd and stuck it on the fridge if he returns before you're back. You also ask Red Leader if it's okay. He said that it was, so you go ahead and take a secret trail off base and into a huge, lush forrest. You stick in some earbuds and continue to walk into the forrest. From this trail, there is a small town on the other side. Usually when the base runs low on food, plates, utensils, etc, there is a store where you can buy things in bulk for cheap. You also know of a small café where you like to get drinks, they have really good tea and coffee. You arrive at Le Café de Campagne and enter. You order your favorite drink off the menu. You pay and sit down at the cute tables. The café was heavily inspired by France, with relatively French architecture and design.

Cute glass tables and tall chairs are scattered around the small café, a gorgeous mural is painted on the back wall near the counter and cash register. The mural depicts a beautiful countryside with a small cottage to the left behind a field of yellow and pink flowers. In the background, snowy-topped mountains and another cottage sit beautifully. The baby blue sky and fluffy clouds pull the entire piece together. Cute black vases hold pink and yellow tulips along with napkins, salt, and pepper. A display counter with delectable sweets ranging from Macaroons to Tarte Tatin sit in the window, ready to be eaten. On top of the display counter sits a miniature Eiffel Tower, and a bunch of other mini versions of popular tourist attractions such as the Louvre and the Notre Dame cathedral. The people who work there are pretty cool as well. You know most if the people that work there, such as Andrea. She's been working at the café since it opened three years ago. She's easily one of the sweetest people you've ever met.

"Y/n, you're order is ready!" Andrea's sweet voice calls to you. "Thank you so much, have a good day Andrea!" "You too Y/n!" She calls as you walk out the door. You continue to stroll through the tiny town, looking into windows of small shops. You stop in front of a small thrift store, you decide to look around. You start in the CD and DVD section. You found a CD of your favorite band, and a Smash Mouth CD, both for lest than a euro. Obviously, you decide to buy them. You go looking around in the long sleeve shirt section. You pulled out a cute blue-grey sweater that says "Big Dick Energy" on it in bold letters, as if it were school apparel. You look at the tag, it's your size and only five euros. You take that with you as well. Moving across to the pants section, you find a cute pair of high waisted black ripped jeans. They're your size and only seven euros, so you take it. You bring your items up to the cashier, you pay, then you leave.

You decide to walk more into the forest. You take a short cut through an alleyway between the thrift store and a small bank. You push past a few stray branches and step over some shrubbery. You walk along a naturally formed pathway, admiring the beauty of the nature around you. You keep walking until you feel a droplet of rain fall on your forehead, then a couple more. You take cover underneath a tree as rain pours from the sky. You slide your small f/c backpack off of your shoulders and pull out a travel sized sketchbook and a pencil case full of pencils and pens. You take out a graphite pencil and begin to sketch out some scenery infront of you. Rows upon rows of tall oak trees sit infront of you, along with a line of small bushes keeping the trees from growing onto that pathway. The dirt pathway is damp with rain water, some weeds and flowers have managed to grow through the pathway.

After you're done, you marvel at your sketch, you're definitely putting this on your wall later. You pack up your sketchbook and utensils. You also manage to fit your new thrifted items into your bag as well. You pick up the cup that houses the few drops left of your drink from the café. You quickly make it back to town and find a garbage can to throw the cup away. The rain is still coming down hard, and it's getting dark out. You pull out your phone and check the time. Your digital screen reads 16:57 (4:57 pm). You slip your phone back into the pocket of your jeans and hurriedly walk back to base. Almost slipping in mud a few times, you make it back to base. Once you enter your and Vlahd's apartment, You speed walk to your room and peel off your soaking wet clothes. You enter the bathroom and toss your clothes into the washer to clean them.

Slipping on the clothes you bought, you put away your CDs, wallet, sketchbook, and pencil case. You flop on your bed, now bored. You decide to re-read your favorite book, you haven't read it in a while. In the middle of you reading your book, you got a text from Vlahd. 'Подойдите к входу в большую базу, это срочно (Come to the big entrance, it's urgent.' The text reads, you respond with an 'okay'. You throw another pair of shows on that aren't soaking wet and speed walk to the big entrance in the base. That entrance is usually used for big shipments of cargo, you wonder what could have happened. Anxiety begins to catch up with you and so many negative thoughts run wild in your head. Your speed walking turns into a jog, which turns into a run, which turns into a sprint. You're dodging soldiers as you sprint down to the big entrance.

"Sargent Major Vlahd!" One of the nurses says in shock. You turn the corner just in time to see Vlahd, kneeled over. Your eyes begin to well up with tears. He's covered in blood, parts of his uniform are gone and replaced with huge gashes, his left arm is completely gone. He looks up at you, he sees you almost in tears, he tries to stand back up, but one of the nurses grabs his arm. "Take him to the infirmary, stat!" She says, trying to hustle him past the crowd that formed behind the nurses. Everyone is talking around you, can't hear anything though because of how shocked and overwhelmed you are. Vlahd tries to say something to you, but he's in so much pain that he cant speak. You have people step aside so the nurses can get through to make it to the infirmary in time.

You follow them to the medical wing, you try to follow them into the infirmary, but they won't let you. That's kind of understandable though, considering he needs emergency surgery to fix his arm, or what he has left of his arm. You see him through the infirmary window. Making eye contact with you, he gives you a weak smile before passing out from blood loss. You decide it's best to go back to your apartment, and wait it out. One of the nurses gave you her number to get updates on how Vlahd is doing. She knows how close you are with him, she could tell by the look in your eyes that you were devastated when he came back. You enter the apartment and go straight to your room.

You can't help but cry. You lost one of your father figures and you sure as hell aren't going to lose another one. In the middle of you sobbing, you get a text from the nurse, saying that Vlahds surgery was successful. He's going to have to stay in the infirmary for two to three weeks, but he's going to recover. You start sobbing harder out of pure joy. You hadn't even realized that you've been sobbing for almost two hours straight. The clock on your phone reads '20:37' (8:37 pm). You quickly go out to the kitchen and heat up some leftover borscht from last night. After you finish dinner, you go to bed. All of that crying made you exhausted.

Waking up was a but hard today, but you knew if you didn't show up for role call, Red Leader would be upset. Nobody want's to upset Red, he's terrifying when he's angry. So, you begrudgingly get up and grab an extra uniform you have. Walking into the bathroom, you remember about your clothes from last night. You take them and shove them in the dryer. You do your morning routine and then throw on your uniform half hazardly in a rush to get to role call. Making it to the role call room a bit early, you check your schedule for today. You have patrol with Paul today and that's it. Patrol is just you and Paul standing outside if the bases main entrance to make sure no one comes that isn't expected. Usually these are six hour shifts, but you only have to do four today. Thankfully its only a four hour shift today, you don't think you're mentally well enough to stay for six.

After role call, you met Paul by the main entrance of the base. You two greeted each other, then stayed silent. Until Paul spoke up, "I'm so sorry kiddo. I know this can be very stressful, especially when someone you're close to gets severely injured. It's really not fair what happened to him. Hopefully, he'll recover soon and things will go back to some sort of normality." You pull Paul into a tight hug. A few tears slip out of your tired eyes.You haven't had the time to really process this information. Now that you are on patrol, you can kinda marinate in your thoughts. You pull away from Paul's embrace, "Thank you Paul, I really needed that." You sigh, wiping away the tears that stuck to your flushed cheeks.

After Patrol, you go back to your apartment and change. You change into the Maroon sweater and jeans that are in the dryer. Before you head to the infirmary, you text the nurse to see if Vlahd is awake. Vlahd is a stong man, so the nurses and doctors had to use a lot of anesthesia to keep him unconscious during surgery. The nurse said he was awake, just a bit groggy. You thank the nurse and haul ass to the infirmary. You arrive at medical wing. The medical wing is confusing as hell to navigate. Its three floors, one is where the receptionist desk is, the waiting room, and all the machines like the x-rays, the cat scans, etc. The second one is used for less severe injuries, the third one is used for intensive care. Vlahd is on floor three, room number 108.

"Hello honey, what brings you to the medical wing today?" The receptionist asks in a heavy Jersey accent. "Hello, I'm here to visit Sargent Major Vlahd." The receptionist nods and types something on her keyboard. "Oh! You're Y/n, correct?" You nod. "Okay, sign this out for me please and write your name on this." She hands you a clipboard with a piece of paper you had to fill out in order to visit someone in intensive care. She also hands you a visitor pass that you stick on your shirt. Kind of like a name tag. You fill out the paperwork and pads, then you put the visitors pass on your sweater. You give the paperwork back to the nurse. "Alright sweetie, you know where Vlahd's room is right?" You nod. "Okay, have a good one!" "You too miss." You respond to the receptionist.

You impatiently ride the elevator up to floor three. As soon as the elevator opens, you speed walk to Vlahds room. Knocking on the door, you wait for permission to enter the room. "You can come in hon." The nurse says from the other side of the door. Proceeding to enter the room, all your attention goes to Vlahd. He looks miserable. "I'll leave you twonalone for a while, just hit the bed alarm if you need me." The nurse says then leaves the room. As soon as the nurse leaves the room. You sit down next to him, and try to hold in your tears. You dont want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. Vlahd tries to sit up, but you try to make him lay down again, he can't be straining this much. Although, considering Vlahd is a powerhouse of strength, you didn't get very far.

Instead, you gave up on fighting against him. Surprisingly, Vlahd pulls you into a tight hug. "Все в порядке, дорогая, все будет в порядке (It's okay honey, it'll all be okay.)." You broke down once again, sobbing into Vlahd's shoulder. You unknowingly grabbed fistfuls of his gown. "P-please don't ever leave me, I can't handle this, please d-don't ever leave me dad-" you cut yourself off has soon as 'dad' left your mouth. "I'm so sorry Vlahd, I-I didn't mean to- " "Y/n." Vlahd silences you. "Все в порядке. Я горжусь тем, что являюсь твоим отцом. Ты чертовски ребенок (It's okay. I'm proud to be your father figure. You're one hell of a kid.)." Vlahd states, you hug him once again.

"Thanks, dad."

#ily <3333 #ilysm <333 #<3 <3 <3 #<333 #eddsworld #x teen!reader #oneshots #tbatf vlahd #Vlahd x teen!reader #writers #writers on tumblr #eddsworld the beginning and the friend #ewtbatf

42 notes · View notes

dexiao · 4 years

Text

Reminiscence (m) | Lee Taeyong and Kim Doyoung

Synopsis: Doyoung and Y/N have been dating for some time and just moved in together on the day they ocasionaly met Taeyong, Doyoung’s old fuck buddy at a café. Doyoung just didn’t expect to still have feelings for him.

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x female reader x Lee Taeyong

Words: ~3.3k

Genre: non idol!au, a little bit of angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: polyamorous relationship, dom!Doyoung, sub!Taeyong, handjob (male receiving), oral sex (male receiving)

This is a work of fiction. It does not portray the real personality of any of the members.

The day Y/N accidentally first met Taeyong, she and Doyoung had been dating for almost a year.

She and Doyoung had just moved in together into a new apartment, close to Doyoung’s office, and were still getting to know the neighborhood – at least the parts you don’t get to see when you visit a district with work purposes only.

The couple entered a café, not so small, with something between half a dozen and ten tables, not to mention the seemingly enormous variety of sweets of all different colors that were displayed in the glass counters. They chose a more reserved table, close to a wall, and sat facing each other and holding hands on top of the wooden piece of furniture.

After deciding to order a mocha, Y/N lifted her gaze up to meet her boyfriend’s face, noticing his attention focused on a point behind herself. His eyes and mouth were open, eyebrows lifted in what Y/N interpreted as a surprise expression.

Since there were only a couple of tables taken besides yours, it was easy to discover what Doyoung stared at – a pale man with bright red hair, a slit in his left eyebrow and ears full of piercings, heading towards the counter with a soft expression after shyly smiling at an employee. His outfit was all black.

“Lee Taeyong?” Doyoung spoke loudly, standing up from his chair. At his call, the man turned his face towards their table, ears and face going immediately as red as his hair.

“Kim Dongyoung?” the man asked. His voice wasn’t as rasp as Y/N imagined based on his appearance. He approached the table as Doyoung reached out for a handshake. He shyly bowed at Y/N as Doyoung introduced the woman.

“This is Y/N, she’s my girlfriend Y/N, this is Taeyong, an… old friend of mine.”

“It’s nice to meet you” I said with an open smile. His expression made his discomfort evident.

“Nice to meet you too. You two are a beautiful couple.”

From his posture, it seemed to Y/N that things couldn’t become weirder, but then Doyoung sat down again and invited Taeyong to stay and have a coffee with them. He promptly refused to, due to a supposed appointment he had within a few minutes.

“Oh, so do you work nearby?” Doyoung asked.

“Yes, my studio is just a block away. Why do you ask?”

“Y/N and I just moved to an apartment a few blocks from here. Maybe we’ll see you around.”

“Sure” Taeyong responded, holding a closed smile. “But I really do have to go now, I’m sorry. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

That night, Doyoung told Y/N about his past with Taeyong.

Of course she knew about his bisexuality even before they started dating, but they never really talked about past relationships. At least not mentioning names.

Just as Y/N experienced while dating Doyoung, he was more on the dominant side with Taeyong as well. Both the boys went to the same college and lived in the same floor of a building, eventually meeting in the hallway and the elevator. Their relationship, however, wasn’t serious.

They were obviously attracted to each other, to the point Taeyong broke up with his girlfriend straight because of the guilt he felt from having a crush on Doyoung, his neighbor.

As weeks passed by, they got into a friends with benefits-like situation. Casual one night stands, in an agreement to not nurture feelings towards each other.

And it worked pretty well.

Taeyong was really submissive to Doyoung, leading him to explore dominance and to experience having an amount of control over someone else he didn’t think of having before. Both of them discovered a lot about themselves during this time.

As the semester ended, Taeyong graduated and moved out to the UK for specialization, and Doyoung stayed in South Korea. They lost touch. It was natural, as each of them continued busy with their own stuff, not wanting to disturb the other in his pursue of success.

Three years later, here they were. Taeyong apparently still hadn’t gotten over what Doyoung used to call ‘a phase’ of constantly changing his hair color – though Doyoung had never seen him with red hair before.

Also, now Doyoung had a serious commitment with Y/N and their relationship.

But it didn’t stop him from getting butterflies in his stomach at the sight of Taeyong becoming so flustered in front of him. As shy and softhearted as before. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to whether Taeyong would still have the same behavior under his touch.

About a month ahead, the couple managed to meet Taeyong again at the same café more than a dozen times before he finally gave into their persistence of having him over for dinner.

Y/N and Doyoung had an amazing homemade Italian style pasta almost done by the time Taeyong arrived. His hair was now a light tone of brown and he wore a black turtleneck with black pants, a brown coat hanging over his shoulders. Doyoung dressed pretty similar to him – black pants and gray sweater – while Y/N had a long sleeved bright yellow dress.

The three began drinking the wine Taeyong brought from the moment he stepped inside. All of them were noticeably nervous, but Y/N and Doyoung tried their best to not make Taeyong feel left alone. Y/N asked him about his work, college and personal life, since she didn’t know him besides what her boyfriend chose to say about the older man.

At first he seemed uncomfortable, releasing nervous laughs until the wine started making effect and relaxing him up, letting him be more spontaneous.

After they ate the pasta Taeyong had complimented a thousand times during the meal, a long silence settled as each of them stared at the empty plates and half empty glasses. The table was round, so they sat in a triangular shape.

Y/N’s hand reached for Doyoung’s on top of the table. The move didn’t go unnoticed by Taeyong, who didn’t have the self-awareness to not look at Y/N.

He was so confused.

It couldn’t be possible to like so much the person who literally dated the person he secretly wanted to date. Y/N’s personality was so captivating and bright, but still as caring and nurturing as Doyoung’s. And she was pretty. Of course she was.

And she noticed as the older man absentmindedly gazed at her, fingers playing at the edge of his glass.

Y/N pressed her boyfriend’s hand tightly before standing up, removing Taeyong from his daydream.

“I guess it’s my cue now” she stated, smiling softly.

The woman leaned and left a chaste kiss on Doyoung’s lips, to which Taeyong felt guilty to but watched happen nonetheless. Then she turned to Taeyong, whose face and ears were red (it was impossible to know if due to the wine of to the scene he just witnessed). The older’s eyes followed her movements as she leaned and pressed a kiss on his cheek before heading to her and Doyoung’s shared bedroom.

After a few steps, she stopped and turned to Taeyong again.

“It was great having you here. I really wish you can come more often.”

Then she left her boyfriend and his old crush alone, drunk, mildly turned on and facing each other.

That night, Taeyong and Doyoung had a long and drunk talk. Doyoung explained how things were different from college, how he and Y/N started dating and what they expected for the future. Taeyong couldn’t understand why Doyoung was telling him all this, after all, he owed him nothing.

That went on until the younger spilled out how he felt about Taeyong. That he wanted to become close again and that it was okay if Taeyong did not want to, but Y/N felt just the same way as him and if he wasn’t committed to anyone, what's wrong with trying?

The matter was that Taeyong’s mind was slowed down from all the wine and nothing Doyoung said from that point on made sense to him. He left the apartment without giving Doyoung an answer and thinking he could just avoid the subject if they met again.

Doyoung, whose mind was clearer, noticed how he scared the shit out of Taeyong. Of course that was not the way he hoped the night would end, but he and Y/N came to an agreement before on Taeyong being fully aware on the ground he was stepping onto if he actually accepted to try this thing.

From that night on, the couple changed their approach.

They stopped going together to the café. Instead, since that was the only place they were sure they could meet Taeyong, they decided it was best to not see him together, in an attempt to make him feel less pressured.

The dinner night was never mentioned again and they avoided talking about each other with Taeyong.

Eventually Taeyong accepted to sit and have a coffee with Y/N, then with Doyoung. And then again with Y/N and so on.

He got more and more responsive to subtle touches on his skin, becoming confident to do the same as time passed on. Fingers brushing as he passed the menu, light touches on arms in the middle of a conversation.

Y/N invited Taeyong to a date in the park, and that was the first time they kissed.

It started so slow, as if they were afraid from one another, lips touching very lightly. After a few seconds, Y/N noticed the man release a heavy breath, which was enough to convince her it was okay to go on, that Taeyong did enjoy it. So Y/N pressed her lips harder against his, sliding the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip and deepening the kiss. Her hands cupped Taeyong’s face and determined the pace, while Taeyong used his only as support for his body.

Y/N found him to be a lot different from her boyfriend. While Doyoung was more dominant, Taeyong was the complete opposite. Even when it was clear as water that he wanted it, he wouldn’t make the move. She enjoyed being in that position and taking the lead, though they did nothing but kiss for hours, until both had lips so swollen they actually hurt.

The following day, Doyoung casually met the older at a flower shop. It was a surprise for both, and Doyoung felt afraid of Taeyong trying to avoid him or feel ashamed because of what happened between Y/N and him. Nevertheless, Taeyong was completely in his normal self.

Doyoung walked him back to his studio and asked if he could give him a kiss before going back, which Taeyong didn’t even reply with words. The older just closed his eyes and nodded, opening his mouth in expectation. Watching the scene, Doyoung couldn’t help but feel as he needed Taeyong in his life again. He was so innocent and precious Doyoung wanted to keep him in his pocket and protect him from the world.

For Taeyong, the man’s kiss tasted different. Not only different from Y/N’s, but also different from the past they had together. Doyoung’s lips were still has soft, his mouth still as warm; still, he could sense the carefulness irradiating from the younger man.

Other times he’d meet either Y/N or Doyoung at the café, they would greet him with a kiss so close to his mouth (still not on his mouth) it was frustrating. Taeyong tried his best to show them with touches and gazes that he wanted more, but it seemed to him that neither of them noticed his effort, and voicing it out was a big challenge.

The trigger was the day he sat down with Doyoung and ordered a cappuccino.

As Taeyong rambled about something that happened at work, the flow of his words was suddenly interrupted by the realization Doyoung was bringing a hand to his face. The younger brushed his thumb over Taeyong’s bottom lip, wiping a little cream spot. Taeyong closed his eyes at the sensation and tried to not react, but it was impossible when his heart beat so hard and fast as if wanting to break his chest. He wanted to lean his head and suck Doyoung’s finger into his mouth, to show him how needy he was, to make Doyoung feel pity for putting him in this situation.

However, he waited some more seconds to open his eyes again and start breathing again as well. Doyoung stared at him seeming worried and asked if everything was okay. Of course things weren’t okay.

As they walked out of the café some minutes later, Taeyong closed his eyes to expect the torture of Doyoung’s kiss on his cheek, but it was his lips that felt the touch.

This time he wasn’t able to contain a sigh as Doyoung distanced himself. When Taeyong opened his eyes again, his vision was blurred and he felt a lump in his throat preventing his voice to come out normally.

“Please, Doyoung” he begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Doyoung brought one hand up to caress the older’s left cheek.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to push you” he said softly.

But that wasn’t what Taeyong meant and he got more frustrated, tears unwillingly escaping his eyes.

“It’s not that” he spoke, looking down.

Doyoung calmly asked what was the problem, gently making Taeyong face him again and wiping his tears away.

“I want you, Doyoung. And Y/N as well” he said in one breath. “I want you both to take care of me, make me feel good. It has been a while now” tears kept rushing down his face, even when Doyoung kissed him and told him he and Y/N would be more than happy to do whatever he asked for.

Four months after that episode, Taeyong woke up in the middle of the night with an uncomfortable feeling between his legs. Involuntarily, he ran his right hand through his clothed crotch, realizing he had an erection.

Though he tried to for some long minutes, Taeyong was unable to go back to sleep, so he sat restless and leaned his back against the headboard of the enormous bed. The dim light from the street allowed him to observe Doyoung peacefully asleep in a white t-shirt on the other side of the bed, as well as Y/N in a nightgown in the middle of them.

Taeyong was getting more used to sleep in their bed than his own. He was getting used to be their baby.

It’s not that the man couldn’t take care of himself. Not only he could, but he did it for a long time. He wasn’t a child. He knew his body, he was able to recognize his necessities. Taeyong was an intense person, and that was noticeable at first sight. He was used to commit seriously to whatever he proposed to do, especially when it came to work; he worked hard to be the best, to do the best job.

But at the moment, he just felt helpless as his cock began hurting from the erection while the people he loved slept right next to him. He needed relief, and still couldn’t avoid the thought that jerking off right now to the amazing sex they had last night was wrong.

Mindlessly, the man reached for his phallus inside his clothes, bringing it out and just holding it, feeling the warmth of his palm against the pulsating member. Taeyong was decided to not jerk off, though he couldn’t keep his hips totally still, slightly thrusting into his fist, eyes closed to make the most of any sensation he could get, biting his lip to avoid releasing any noises.

And since he closed his eyes, he wasn’t able to realize the moment Doyoung woke up and watched the older quietly whimper for a few seconds before waking Y/N with a kiss at the nape of her neck, squeezing her waist with his right hand.

Y/N woke up with low hum that went unnoticed by Taeyong, who remained focused in the sort of failed attempt to please himself in silent. Doyoung’s body pressed against Y/N’s back and she suddenly became conscious of his hip upon hers.

The woman brought her right hand to Taeyong’s thigh and gently squeezed it, making him immediately open his teary eyes in surprise. His gaze shifted between Y/N and Doyoung, seeming desperate for help.

“Shh… Do you want help, baby?” Y/N whispered.

As Taeyong nodded and mouthed an almost inaudible “please”, she moved to Taeyong’s left, kneeling by his side, leaving him in the middle of her and Doyoung. The other man also moved closer to Taeyong, with a caring look in his dark eyes and a soft smile.

Y/N’s head rested on Taeyong’s shoulder for a moment, caressing his thigh and gazing at the hard cock, red tip glistening. She turned her head to face him, guiding his face towards hers with her left hand.

“Can I kiss you, baby?” she asked.

Taeyong hummed and closed his eyes, leaning in to reach her lips. The kiss was gentle as Y/N rushed her hands over his torso.

After watching the view for a while, Doyoung decided to join the couple, kissing Taeyong’s right thigh without getting up. His right hand reached for the other man’s erection, pumping it softly, taking whimpers from Taeyong’s lips into Y/N’s mouth.

One of her hands went under his t-shirt to play with his sensitive nipples, squeezing them one at a time; her kiss dropped to his jaw and neck, freeing Taeyong’s moans and needy whimpers.

Doyoung removed the man’s hand from his own member in order to properly please him, tightening his grip over the flesh. Taeyong was already so aroused that even small touches made him feel like tumbling down, which was perfectly visible for the other two.

“Y/N, spit” Doyoung demanded.

The oldest growled as Y/N’s kisses abruptly stopped, opening his eyes to watch as the woman let a long string of saliva drip from her tongue onto his pulsating shaft. Y/N knew it wasn’t necessary since Taeyong’s cock was already wet from the pre-cum oozing from his tip, but her boys loved it messy.

She kept just watching as Doyoung started jerking Taeyong again, as the man closed his eyes again and made small hip trusts into the younger’s touch.

Then he reached Doyoung’s busy arm with her left hand, signaling him with her eyes to stop movements and let go of Taeyong’s dick. As he felt the touch vanish, Taeyong opened his eyes in despair, right in the moment Y/N bent in front of him and took the head of his member inside her hot mouth, sucking it lightly before pulling off to look at Taeyong’s face.

Doyoung raised himself and supported his torso in one elbow, the other hand still resting against the other’s leg.

When Y/N leaned in to lick at Taeyong’s cock again, Doyoung went in as well, both sticking their tongues out and licking it up and down repeatedly.

Taeyong whined and bucked his hip up, the sensation and the scene in front of him triggering his orgasm. His eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as spurts of cum trailed out of his cock. Y/N and Doyoung alternated the leaking member into their mouths, both eager to taste Taeyong’s seed.

As his climax ended, Taeyong squirmed in overstimulation as Y/N kissed the head of his softening cock before dropping it and kissing Doyoung, mixing the cum in their mouths. The couple moved to allow Taeyong into the kiss, having him taste himself.

“Now let’s go back to sleep, huh? You were so good to us, love” Doyoung whispered, kissing the other’s cheek and laying down again. By the time Taeyong recovered his breath and laid down again, dick back into his clothes, Y/N and Doyoung were drifting into sleep, caring to cuddle the oldest who laid in the middle of them. Doyoung rested his head by Taeyong’s, and Y/N positioned herself in the curve between his shoulders and neck. Taeyong mumbled a "thank you so much", and feeling Y/N's warm breath hitting his skin, he finally went back to sleep again.

A/N: I chose to put this by the end of the fic since there is a huge spoiler lol this is the first of all poly fics I worked on that I feel confident on posting (even though it does not involve a threesome or more than one person being pleasured). Also, about the disclaimer about not portraying their personalities - can you imagine Taeyong, as the cleaning maniac he is, just going back to sleep? LOL Feedback is always welcome!

160 notes · View notes

secret-time-is-here · 3 years

Text

An Error’s Journey

Chapter 5

Previous - First - Next

TW: Talk of death, killing, and cannibalism.

Waking up, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, heavily confused.

What was that dream? Why did he remember all of it? Why was Hearts going by Lust? Why did everything feel so familiar? Were they memories?

Far too many questions, far too early.

Slowly he sat up, reaching for the glasses he knew he had nearby. Looking down he fell asleep in his day clothes, half-heartedly he misses when he could easily wear the same clothes every day, but that’s a price you have to pay for sanity.

He could’ve sworn he was knitting before he fell asleep, and was definitely not tucked in or laid down. Nightmare must’ve come in to check on him at some point.

He pulled the strings from his eyes as he carefully got off his hanging bed. Being mindful to not have it swing too much or else it’ll whack him in the back, and let his magic open up the curtains and grab a change of clothes as he started a shower. Also setting the clothes and his glasses on the counter.

Those dreams were far too detailed. He nearly never had dreams in the first place, let alone that vivid and so many back to back. Hearts doesn’t go by Lust anymore, not after he joined Nightmare.

Hearts had always said that Lust was a name he used to use, one a beloved ex of his repurposed and he was always so hesitant to let go of it, but when he left the Star Council and started a new life apart of Nightmare’s gang, he decided it was time to let go.

Why would he dream of dating Hearts in the first place? He was with Blue, and while they are on opposing sides, they still love each other. Both agree Hearts is safer and happier with Nightmare, and Blue safer and happier with Dream.

He’s happily single thank you very much. Far too many mental instabilities to even think of a relationship at the moment, that wasn’t changing no matter how much Reaper flirted with him.

So what were those dreams? Why did they give him such emotion?

He shook off the thought, for now, changing into his clothes before giving himself a once-over in the mirror.

The reflection of a skeleton with coal bones stared back at him, mismatched eye lights sitting in his sockets and bright blue tear tracks under his eyes. One of his eyelights was plain white, like most Sans’ have, the other was deep blue ringed with a murky yellow.

His neck was bright red for no other reason than to show how much of an error he was inside and out, but he had a dark blue scarf around his neck to hide most of it. His dark red shirt fit him for the first time in centuries, much like his black patchy jacket. Looking down his pants were baggy and long, but overtime staying in Nightmare’s mansion, he grew into them, since he’s no longer staying in a place where time is paused infinitely. Looking at his feet, his toes wiggled on top of his black flip-flops.

He was missing something… looking back at the counter, he grabbed his glasses, then back in the mirror, he saw that handsome bastard he knew so well.

Smirking he grabbed his phone before heading down to the kitchen, most everyone already gathered there, most sitting at the kitchen island, a few at the couches decorating the walls.

“MORning.” He called, voice glitching.

“Good morning, Error.” Nightmare called, “Get some coffee before Killer drinks it all.”

Nightmare was one of the eldest in the Multiverse and had collected a gang of so-called bad sans’ to wreak havoc upon the multiverse, a sort of payback for being outcasted. While Nightmare refused to talk about his past, the gang knew that his goop was not natural, as the dark guardian had confessed once upon a time he didn’t look like a perpetually dripping blob of a skeleton with a single cyan eye.

The odd goop that surrounds Nightmare thankfully doesn’t soak into everything, so he can still wear most clothing without a problem. Even though he doesn’t change from the black hoodie, shorts, and slippers he wears every day.

“I’m not drinking all of it!”

“You’ve had three cups already. You got in the kitchen six minutes ago.”

Killer was one of the several Sans’ Nightmare had collected for his crew and was from a genocide gone horribly wrong, Frisk convincing him to kill everyone. Frisk did this over and over through many resets, and it slowly tore Killer apart. By the time Nightmare found him, he was very much insane, desperate to get rid of the guilt that was eating at him. He had so much negativity, that he had black tears running from his sockets, and his eyelights gone.

Nightmare offered to let him in and help him, and unknowingly, Killer had accepted. Today, Killer’s wearing a long-sleeved black turtleneck and basketball shorts with sneakers and socks, his old tattered hoodie resting around his shoulders. For once, he even has a single eye lit up, a sign that he’s happy.

“Morning, Ru!” Hearts called patting the seat next to him, “How’d ya sleep?”

Hearts was wearing a comfortable knitted sweater that Error had made for him last Giftmas. Since he was no longer plagued by that unbearable heat, he can wear it without discomfort. Alongside that, he’s wearing comfy but thin black sweats along with fluffy socks.

“WEiRd.” Error shrugged, sitting down next to Hearts after stealing some coffee from Killer, “Just sOmE Odd dREams thOugh, hOpEfully, tOnight I wOn’t havE thEm again.”

“Night terrors?” Nightmare questioned

“No… I think thEy might bE mEmORiEs, but it’s hard to say. ThEy wERE cOnfusing thOugh, sO I’m trying nOt tO think tOO much abOut it.”

“Sounds like the multiverse in a nutshell,” Cross spoke up from the doorway, having just woken up. Horror let out a gruff chuckle at that.

Cross and Horror were also skeletons that Nightmare had found. Dust being the other one he had found, although the stupidly tall skeleton loves to sleep in. Dust came from a genocide gone wrong as well, except he killed out of desperation, how would Frisk be able to kill everyone if he did it himself? Although after Dust killed his brother he snapped. His eyes seem to forever shake and are mismatched like Error’s. Both red, but one with an inner ring of blue.

Nightmare found Dust talking to himself, or seemingly so, his mind so gone that he imagined his brother as a ghost that follows him, telling him to kill more. If Dust was awake and downstairs, he’d probably be wearing his brother's scarf and his hoodie paired with long trek pants as well as slippers.

Horror didn’t come from a genocide but did come from a very dark AU that had a famine, and after so much time without food, to survive many turned to eat each other. The first time Nightmare and Horror met, Horror had tried to cut Nightmare up and eat him. At the moment, Horror’s not trying to eat everything and anything but is cooking breakfast for everyone.

Wearing his apron, a fluffy hoodie he stole from Cross, and his normal faded t-shirt, he smiles wide. Although, much like Killer and Dust, he also wears basketball shorts and slippers. Yet, unlike everyone else, his AUs story left him with a jagged hole in the side of his head and only one bright red working eye.

Finally Cross, the one that changed the gang. The only one that hasn’t gone insane. After Cross joined, Nightmare started helping everyone else with their insanity, and eventually helped himself as well. Cross doesn’t wear the uniform his AU had forced him into anymore but does still keep some elements of his old outfit. He has his fluffy hoodie that he kept, that Horror enjoys stealing far too much, but he also kept his black turtleneck. Aside from that, he got rid of everything else, relaxing with black athletic pants and dark sneakers.

He’s the only one that looks the most like a sans appearance-wise, his eyes both white, with no scar insight. The gang says that one of his eyes used to be red, with a red scar under it. Nightmare has confirmed this but says that the reason behind that was he was sharing a soul with a human, and that now that the human has been taken care of, the red eyelight and scar are gone.

“Any… um... Pa-...pl-” Horror struggled for a moment, his injury messed with his head a lot, making it harder to speak and get sentences out. Everyone waited patiently, “Plans! Any plans?”

“Hmm… PlannEd On hanging Out with REapER, LifE, and MERcy fOR lunch. SpEnd sOmE timE with thE Charas, makE suRE IntEnt is kEEping thEm all undER cOntROl. ThEn dROp by CcinO’s, why?”

“We were thinking about a movie night later.” Dust popped his head through the door, twitching a little less than usual, a good sign. That means his brother hadn’t been keeping him up all night.

“I’ll have tO gEt gOing sO I can makE it back sOOnER thEn, dOn’t I?” Error spoke with a smirk, and Horror’s smile widened.

-----

A few portals later, to hide his trail to Nightmare’s base, he arrived in Reapertale. He passed many Gods on his way to Life’s realm, and he waved to each of them, everyone knowing him well, a long-time friend of the Gods.

“There you are, Error, I was beginning to think you forgot.” Life spoke, sitting on the deck of her cottage. Reaper a few feet away from her, floating as he sat.

Life was the Toriel of ReaperTale, but also as the nickname suggests the Goddess of life and nature. She is a goat monster with fluffy white fur, red eyes, and a flowing green silk dress with golden accents.

“Heya, Ru,” Reaper cooed, Error rolled his eyes. “Mercy couldn’t make it this time, few more souls than usual. You know how it is.”

Reaper is the God of death, his younger brother, Mercy, the God of merciful death. Both of them wearing dark cloaks tied with a rope, both having their own tokens. Reaper a small gaster blaster skull holding together the hood of his cape, and Mercy a long wisping red scarf.

“Alright, make sure to tell him ‘Hi’ for me some time then,” Error sat on the deck with them, and pulled out his knitting, “How have you two been?”

“Same old Same old,” Life sighed, “Not much to do for me, although Reaper has a little something~”

“Tor, come on, thought you agreed you’d keep that a secret.”

“Awww, yOu lEft mE Out Of a sEcREt?” Error faked betrayal, “HOw cOuld yOu?!”

“You watch too much UnderNovela...” Error gave pouty eyes, “Fine Glitch. Ink and I have been cuddling a bit outside of work. Just Queerplantonic cuddling, nothing more… right now.”

“YOu bEttER nOt lEt DREam or NightmarE knOw yOu caught fEElings DEath,” Error chuckled, Reaper scoffed.

“What about you, Error?” Life asked, setting a cup of tea down in front of Error.

“Had some weird dreams… but nothing much more than that. The war is still going on, but I complain about that nearly daily.” Life and Death gave confused looks, as if asking him to elaborate, “I think they might be memories, but it’s hard to say. They weren’t really about me… they could be, but I doubt it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Reaper rested on his stomach, head cradled in his hands, still floating in the air.

“Well, the dreams were about some Classic timeline, a skeleguy named Sci who’s dated Hearts back when he was Lust.” Error stopped his knitting and picked up the tea, “I know it has to be Hearts, he’s the only UnderLust timeline with a human named Ace and a brother named Pink.”

“Well, it might not be far-fetched that you’re from a classic timeline, and we all know that you haven’t always been an error and that you do get the occasional flash of something with the right prompting.” Error hummed, “Did this Sci guy act a lot like you?”

“...Admittedly, yeah. We even have the same glasses.” Error tapped the rim of his glasses, the same he saw in the first dream.

“Maybe you’re going to be slowly dreaming through your past life for a bit?”

“I know we’re literally Universe travelers and Gods, but that’s a little crazy, don’t ya think?”

“Well, you don’t remember anything before the AntiVoid, so it’d be a fair theory to say the AntiVoid is the reason you can’t remember anything… and you moved out of there some years ago.” Life reasoned, “Maybe without its influence your memories are starting to come back.”

“Maybe...” Error’s phone buzzed, and he looked at the new text.

Intent was losing control of the Charas, they ran out of chocolate. The destroyer chuckled. “Sorry guys gotta get going, Intent needs me. Thanks for listening to my weird bullshit though.”

“Anytime, Glitchy.”

His mind flashed and he was in the dark world of the save screen, Reaper cuddling close, his chest hurting from a long red slash across it.

-----

Sneaking into the Omega Timeline was absolutely terrible the first time he had done it, but now it had become routine. Alongside his glitching, he learned that he could manipulate his code to look like any Sans he wanted, and even match their voice, although it put a slight strain on his soul if done too long.

Looking like a Classic Sans, he got a secret identity in the Omega Timeline, a small workshop under his false name that he uses to sell his crafts giving him some G to use to buy gifts for the gang, the Gods, and the Charas.

Pulling a pouch out of his pocket, he walked to the grocery store, buying several fun-sized snack packs of chocolate for his idiot humans, before heading out to the pocket space that all the Chara’s lived in.

By accident, he discovered the space and all the Chara’s living there years ago, and regrettably, grew close to all of them. Intent acted as the main parent of the house like pocket space, and Error was the punny uncle that saved them with his copious amounts of chocolate.

He arrived and before he could even knock on the door, he was jumped on by many Charas. Intent was quick to pull them all off before he crashed.

“Sorry, Error, they’re all a little cranky and are coming down from a sugar high. Brats found where I’ve been keeping the chocolate and ate all of it at once.” Intent explained, red eyes glaring at the younger ones.

Intent was one of the eldest of the Chara’s and the only one willing to take an active role as caretaker. Their Frisk long since paused and seeming to not be returning to the underground. When he had first found all of them, the eldest of the Chara’s, not so cleverly nicknamed Dest, had pulled him aside and explained things.

The pocket space they live in is the in-between of the in-between. The space that separates the Void from the AntiVoid. Time is slow, but not at a complete stop. It’s connected to everywhere, and nowhere at once. From the pocket space, the Chara’s can live and go check on their Frisk’s as they please. Although with so many new AUs recently, a lot of them are young.

Intent’s timeline is the first Genocide timeline, long since abandoned by everyone, all the characters dead except Frisk. Dest’s timeline is the original timeline, and they keep a very close eye on their Frisk, who’s been on the surface for years now.

Thanks to Error, things had been more liveable and far less confusing. With his knitting and newfound hobby of sewing, he made them all new clothes and bought necklaces from the OmegaTimeline that have their nicknames on them.

Now not everyone’s wearing the same green and yellow striped sweater and brown pants, and a lot of them have their own styles and tastes. Plus, with how slow all of them age, it’s not often that he has to refit them or make new clothes.

“It’s alright IntEnt, thanks fOR gEtting thEm Off mE.”

“Least I could do, now come on punny.”

His mind flashed, showing the image of a young Chara and Asriel, both clambering around his body, and enjoying themselves, laughing happily.

He shook his skull, and Intent gave a concerned look, “Ya good, E?”

“Y-yEah...” Shakily, he followed the other inside.

-----

Error sighed as he sat down at a barstool of his favorite Cafe.

“Hey, Error, bad day?”

“COnfusing day...”

“Strong coffee or extreme hot chocolate?”

“ExtREmE cOcOa,” He reached into his pocket and passed a few G for the drink, “I dOn’t gEt what’s gOing On with mE. FiRst thEsE wEiRd dREams slash mEmORiEs thEn I’m gEtting flashEs Of mEmORiEs I dOn’t REmEmbER-?”

“Woah there, let’s slow down a bit.” Error stopped, hanging on Ccino’s every word, “Deep breath in,” He breathed in deeply, “and let it out slowly.” He exhaled for a long minute. “There? Is the world a little less overwhelming?”

Ccino is from a surface AU, simply owning a cat Cafe and living above it. He has grey eyes and pale bones, usually wearing earthy colors and an apron, although on occasion outside of work he wears a blue hoodie with bunny ears attached to the hood.

Error nodded soundlessly, closing his eyes, “Why don’t you start from the beginning, then I can try and help, but before you start, take a drink, alright? God or not, it’s good to stay hydrated. Even with hot cocoa.” His eyes half opened at the sound of a cup softly landing on the counter. He took a big sip and then began to speak.

“StaRtEd with thE dREams I guEss… thEy wEREn’t abOut mE thOugh, but thEy might bE? At lEast LifE and REapER think sO. ThEy think I might bE REmEmbERing my past nOw that I’m nOt living in thE AntiVOid...”

“And what do you think about the dreams?” Ccino spoke slowly and softly, petting a cat that had jumped up into his arms.

“I dOn’t knOw what tO think.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to not have an opinion on things. What do you want to do about the dreams?”

“NOthing Right nOw.”

“Then you don’t have to do anything.”

“I’vE bEEn gEtting flashEs Of mEmORiEs tOO, but I dOn’t REmEmbER thEm. I knOw thEy’RE minE bEcausE it’s in my pERspEctivE, thEy fEEl familiaR. I can REcOgnizE pEOplE in thEm.”

“What do you want to do about the flashes?”

“SEE what happEns with thEm I guEss...”

“Then you can wait and see.” Ccino pulled out his phone for a moment, “Before you leave to Night’s, can you stay a bit longer? Night had put in an order for some sweets and drinks for your movie night.”

Error nodded, and Ccino walked away, going into the kitchen area to work on the order.

“Hello, Error.” A young voice suddenly called, and he froze. The voice was one from his dreams… and one he still knew to this day. He didn’t bother looking over.

“...Hi, CORE.”

“Don’t avoid sleep.” Error slowly turned his head towards Core, “Your dreams will help. I can’t promise all of them will be happy. I can promise that they will help. You need to go through them. Otherwise, the multiverse is destined for peril.” He just gave confusedly.

Core stared back at him, “Why the confused look? I’ve already told you before that I’m the watcher of the Multiverse.”

Everyone belongs to their respected creators

22 notes · View notes

ggyuwwoo · 3 years

Text

nostalgic; winter.

a cold winter's night brought upon memories of deep pasts.

seventeen imagine inspr. [ j.ww | flame ]

- a small imagine/oneshot based of this picture

word count: 1.7k

a/n: okay, so.... this was pretty abrupt, literally I was scrolling through twitter and saw this picture and I’m like whoa. holdup, gotta make sth real quick. and somehow, a hour later, boom! I really don’t know how this happened but I could say I’m kinda proud of it - not that its amazing and wow i feel just impressed, hell nah more like, wow I actually finished sth - and the time it took was a record for me, so yeah, please I hope you enjoy!

Cold air filled the streets of Seoul, people walking about in coats, padding, scarves, basking in the warmth they provided. Different coloured lights displayed across the street lamps, trees, and almost anywhere people go through. Taking account the small droplets of white falling down from the dark sky, its winter again.

Hand clutched to his shoulder bag, scrunching his nose from the cold, Wonwoo simply watched as people pass by during the freezing weather. It was a habit of his - when it started, he couldn’t say - observing. He’d take out his small book, a small white composition notebook with minimal design on the front, and starts jotting down things that he thinks would likely be interesting for his book. You could say, it’s his way of inspirations.

Winter has always been something of a change for Wonwoo. Be it the start of something, or the end of another. It was never in-between.

This time around, he was writing something new, something he’d been working on for a while now. Something he has yet to finish. Something in-complete.

Looking through the series of crowds, he spots a young blonde boy in just a white sweatshirt. The boy had just walked out from a building - Red Tiger Dance Studio, Wonwoo notices - and realizing the frosty season, the blonde put on a blue hoodie with the number 10 etched on the back. He ruffled his hair and placed on the hoodie before running off to the underground station.

Wonwoo smiles, the scene reminded him of such a boy, a boy he knew fondly, knew. Looking back, his smile faded, replaced only by a thin line of his lips and eyes dropping with a sad tone. Only realizing then, he had written down a few things.

Blonde. Tiger. Dance. 10.

Wonwoo’s eyes was shaking slightly, taken aback to what he wrote. He took his pen, planning on scratching the entirety of what was written. He stopped. Wonwoo let out a long sigh before placing down the pen. His hands were shivering, coldness numbing his fingertips. Taking out a hot-pack from his bag, Wonwoo pushed back his glasses and continued his observation.

It was almost 9 o’clock, Wonwoo realized he hadn’t eaten yet. The raven haired boy got up from his seat to find a nearby diner, hopefully somewhere with accessible view to the streets. After walking for about 30 minutes, he finds one, Universe Diner.

Walking in, Wonwoo finds a spot right near a corner, with just the right window for him to observe. He goes to the counter, placing an order of hot coffee and a small meal. Going to his seat, he saw a boy in a grey hoodie on the other side of the diner. The boy was focused on his laptop, earphones hanging from the sides. The boy also seemed to be stressed with something, as he was writing down things on a yellow notepad, furiously.

Wonwoo glanced at the boy, guessing he possibly is a stressed out college kid. He did look rather small, maybe high school? Wonwoo continued his guesses. Remembering his earlier activity, Wonwoo turned his attention to the glass pane that showed the streets. He saw a few couples walking by, hand-in-hand, a group of friends - one being particularly tall, had his arms over the other two’s shoulders - laughing, a boy wearing a suit was waiting by the bus stop, head down staring at his phone, whilst another boy in a rainbow-coloured tie-dye sweater was on his headphones sat next to the boy in the suit. Was he wearing sunglasses??

He took down another series of notes from the people he saw. Reviewing them once again after finishing.

Love. Friendship. Work. Leisure. Sunglasses?

Wonwoo took in his notes -ignoring the last one- noting how one correlates with the other. He looked up from his book, coming face to face with the boy on the other side of the room. The boy’s head was still focused on whatever he was doing. Sighs, groans, hums, and mutters were audible from time to time. Wonwoo pitied the boy, he wants to help but he was only a stranger. And who knows, maybe he doesn’t like help? There could be a reason why he is sitting there alone.

Wonwoo took a sip of his coffee once more, before opening up his phone. He didn’t realize it was nearing 11. He has been sitting there since 9. Woah, time does fly.

The sudden sound of a chair backing up was heard, Wonwoo faced up and saw the boy in the grey hoodie, flashing out a smile at his papers and laptop.

“Finally!” the boy exclaimed. “I’m calling it Downpour.”

The boy hurriedly went to his laptop before closing it and packed the remaining of his items into his bag. He placed his earphones back to his ears, smiling contently while walking out of the diner. Wonwoo couldn’t help but grin at the sight. I guess he didn’t need help, just time.

Upon the thought, Wonwoo’s head flashed with memories of a shorter boy, the boy in his thoughts wearing a content smile as music played in the background. The room had only four occupants - including Wonwoo - all four of them were laughing and smiling.

Wonwoo placed a hand on his head, feeling a small headache from the sides. He frowned, knowing these are things of the past. He looked back at his notes, finding a few more words below the previous ones.

Music. Happiness. Satisfaction.

Again, Wonwoo was taken aback for the second time. He knew the things he wrote tonight were from observation, but deep down he felt it was also something more. Something of his past, almost haunting him. Wonwoo’s eyes were getting watery, he didn’t know why. Wiping them off, he took his things. Walking out of the diner, embraced by the chilly winds of winter.

Wonwoo walked back to his place, wanting to linger in the cold season a little longer. He used a longer route that circles his neighbourhood before reaching his house. Only a few people were still out on the streets, some looked like they just got off working overtime, some were drunk being carried by their friends, and some were just like Wonwoo, enjoying the breeze of the night.

The neigbourhood convenience store was coming to view, signaling Wonwoo that he were to turn right later. He notices a tall lanky boy just walking out from the store, holding a black plastic bag over his shoulder. The boy turned to the direction Wonwoo was in. The moment the two faced each other, both pair of eyes were stunned.

Wonwoo took in the boy’s face and figure, trying to see if it is indeed who he thinks it is. He had a white bandage patch on his cheek, chestnut hair peeking through his hoodie, his size hadn’t change much except for possibly height. Guess he’s taller than me now. Wonwoo chuckled internally.

“..Jun?”

The hooded boy let out a short squeak, getting the confirmation of what he had been wondering. Jun walked over to Wonwoo, smiling like a child who found his long lost pet. “Wonwoo! It’s been so long!”

“Jun, why are - no, wait - you’re here?! But I thought..”

Jun gave out a nervous but tired chuckled, the older boy knew he probably has a lot of explaining to do. But he didn’t mind. “Yeah, hehe, it’s a pretty darn long story. Have the time for it?” Jun proposed.

Wonwoo was still in quite the shocked. Seeing his best friend of seven years, who disappeared suddenly, and after five years, meeting him in a coincidence. Well, it’s the third time a memory of the past came to Wonwoo tonight. The third time he was taken aback.

Third time’s the charm, said the universe.

Wonwoo shrugged the small voice on the back of his head, “Yes, please do.”

The two sat down on the table in front of the convenience store. Jun taking out two cans of sweet drinks - Wonwoo hoped it was beer, it might’ve made the whole thing better - from his plastic bag, handing one to Wonwoo.

“So, where should I start?”

After an hour of lengthy explanation by Jun, another half an hour of Wonwoo’s extended questioning, and the other half catching up, the conversation was finally over.

“You know, we would’ve understood.” Wonwoo said, gulping the remaining liquid from his can. Jun stared at his own, a small smile but defeated eyes on his face. “I know, but I didn’t have the guts then.”

Wonwoo let out a sigh, white puff of smoke visible from his mouth, placing the can down. “Well, I’m glad you managed it. As long as you are fine now, it’s good then.”

Jun brought out a relieved smile at the younger’s comment. Taking his can, throwing it to the bin besides the stairs. “Yeah, me too. It all happened already and thankfully, is over. I’m just really glad I get to meet you and give out an explanation.”

Wonwoo nodded.

“Fixing up broken pasts, and repairing them for a better future. It’s nice.”

Wonwoo’s head perked up at the words, Jun may be a chaotic messy cat, but he indeed is insightful. Wonwoo had forgotten about that for a moment.

“Maybe you should try it Woo, who knows? Maybe it’ll give you a clearer picture about what you are writing.”

Wonwoo was about to respond when Jun cuts him off, “Oh damn, look at the time, it’s almost two! Uh, I gotta go Woo, I forgot my little brother needed a small night lamp.” Jun waved at the stunned Wonwoo, as he scurried off yelling, “See you! Soon!”

Wonwoo stood there for a minute.

Fixing broken pasts, huh?

With the night coming to an end, Wonwoo realized something as he walked down the path to his house. The words Jun said had lit up something in his heart, a spark, slowly turning into a flame. It was warm despite the harsh coldness.

After reaching his room, preparing for what looked to be a long sleep, he took out his phone. Scrolled through a few messages, until he reached the one he was looking for.

Wonwoo opened the chat room, contemplating a while before sending the message he’d written. Pressing send, his heart thumped.

‘Hey. Long time.’

He stared at the screen a while, eyes lighting up at as a small indication changed beside his text bubble.

Read by 3.

Followed by another,

junhui is typing...

And another,

jihoon is typing...

And another.

soonyoung is typing...

Wonwoo beamed, maybe he’ll be able to finish that book after all. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll title it,

Us, Who Lights a Flame.

fin.

17 notes · View notes

deceitfullyanxioussss · 4 years

Text

Must Have Been the Wind

Hey guys! I kinda already posted this on my ao3 a few months ago and just realized I forgot to post it here as well so like, here you go I guess lmao

Summary: Remus goes back to his apartment and wants a nap after a bad day at work. Instead, he finds he is kept up by some very troubling sounds coming from the room above his.Remus decides he wants to help this stranger.

Song fic! Must Have Been the Wind - Alec Benjamin

CW: Cursing, and uh, Remus being Remus ig? Oh, and minor homophobic character (Lemme know if I need to add more)

Proof-read by @queroze, thank you again, even though this was a while ago lol

Remus let out a huff of breath, feeling his tense muscles relax as he practically melded into the couch. The plan was for him to catch a nice nap after his exhausting day at work.

He was a barista at a coffee shop, which usually wasn’t too bad. He liked his job. Often, he even found it relaxing.

However, there can be days that are just the exact opposite of relaxing.

It seemed as though every customer he came across that day woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Oh, and don’t even get him started on the Karens. The Karens were nearly impossible to deal with.

A frown slipped on his face, recounting the worst part of his day. There was a very verbal homophobe who came in today.

Remus was very openly gay and always wore a pride pin on his apron next to his name. He had the unfortunate luck of having to take, and make his order. He probably had to stand there for a full 5 minutes, just listening to his lecture about how wrong gay sex is. Remus was able to shut him up by reminding him of the line behind him.

It didn’t end there though.

A lesbian couple walked in not long later, hand in hand. It didn’t take long for it to catch the attention of this man, who immediately jumped at the chance to pull another 500 slide PowerPoint out of his ass.

The rest of his co-workers decided that he had to be ushered out of the shop. Nothing about getting him to leave was easy though, not in the slightest. He went out yelling and cursing the whole way.

The two girls were very lovely though, they had a nice conversation about the upcoming pride event, and he was more than happy to give them both free refills on him.

So he guessed the day wasn’t all bad, but it still seemed to drag him out as if he was dough under a roller, crunching off of his bones into powder and flattening all his veins against his skin.

Yes, a nap seems like a good idea.

Remus’s eyes fluttered closed, fatigue quickly overtaking his body.

Just then, a sharp, yet muffled noise cut through the serenity of silence.

Some barely-conscious part of his mind gained interest in this sound.

What was that? It kind of sounded like glass. It had murmured through its TV static atmosphere.

The rest of his mind, nearly completely asleep, wordlessly communicated that it was probably nothing, and he should just focus on sleeping.

That seemed to calm his brain enough to settle down.

There was a little sliver of his mind that wasn’t quite ready to let go of the sound yet, though. It kept listening, even if undetected by the rest of the brain. It seemed right to do so, as muffled sounds of yelling and sobbing registered through its cloudy state.

It was then Remus blearily pried his eyelids open and sat up.

The fuck? Remus groaned internally, forcing his body into an acceptable sitting position. Confusion stuck onto his brain like wrinkled cling wrap as he tried to make any sense of the hazy world around him.

A loud thud was heard from the floor above, followed by an emotionally drained cry.

Remus grunted and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

For maybe just a split second, his heart felt sympathy for the person, but he was just so tired. It’s not like it was his problem, right? He could just ignore it and go back to sleep.

He flipped over on his side so his head faced the back of his sickly green couch and closed his eyes, trying his best to draw his attention away from the sounds upstairs.

He must have laid there for a good while, trying and failing to push the sounds to the back of his head, his anxiety amping up little by little the longer the crying persisted.

Eventually, Remus let out a loud, guttural sigh and stood up swiftly. He couldn’t just ignore them, he had to help.

Making the decision, he walked towards his coat-rack and hastily tossed his jacket over his shoulders, bee-lining to the elevator.

He silently curses the elevator for being so slow as he restlessly waited for the doors to push open, and when they do he wasted no time getting in and selecting floor 2.

Remus usually enjoyed the tacky elevator music, but he found it only served to tick him off this time around. The music seemed to drag time out even slower and he was already so, so restless.

Ding.

With that, he stepped out and eagerly trodded down the hallways, stopping in front of the desired location. He raised a hand and knocked on the door with little hesitation, the anxious tapping of his foot echoed within the empty halls.

Remus listened with rapt attention through the door, hearing as the person inside scrambled to make themself look even the slightest bit presentable.

He waited impatiently, his gaze anxiously wandering around for some sort of distraction or stimulation. They landed on the grossly patterned navy blue carpet, look completed by the numerous stains that have accumulated over the years. Finding little interest there, he moved onto the walls. The dim, sparse lighting made the colour look like a shit brown. Impulsively, he reached to run his fingers along the many indents that found a home among the distasteful brown. The tactile stimulation instantly captured his focus, and he let the rough surface soothe him.

Remus, too caught up in the stimulation, had forgotten his original purpose of being there. He startled back to reality upon hearing the soft click from the door. He immediately snapped his head back up, being met with a pair of mismatched eyes and a scarred face. This person was looking up at him with what he thought was supposed to be a confident expression. The effect was dampened by his pink-ish eyes, mussed hair, and the pastel yellow sweater he had hooked all the way up to his chin.

Remus gave the other a small wave, just then realizing he had no game plan. Did he just… ask? Did he make small talk first? Should he invite him to his coffee shop for a drink and talk there?

The other reciprocated the wave, smirking. “How may I help you, sir?” He asked politely

Remus cleared his throat, deciding he should just be direct with this conversation. He was never really good at softening his approach anyway.

“Hey, so, basically I heard something shatter and a lot of crying and yelling and I was kinda concerned about it, so I came to ask if you were ok.”

The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Remus spoke up again. “So, are you ok?”

He heard the other snicker quietly, a gloved hand waving as if to dismiss the question. “Oh, my. That’s ridiculous. Your ears must be playing tricks on you, my dear.”

Remus took notice of how he subtly buried his face deeper into the sweater.

His attention was brought back up as the scarred man spoke again.

“Thank you for caring, sir, it’s very kind of you, but I have some urgent work to get back to. I wish I could tell you about the noise, but I'm afraid I didn’t hear a thing.” He shook his head. “Perhaps it was merely a harsh gust of wind.” He suggested.

Remus let out a quiet sigh, but nodded and accepted the answer.

The two waved each other farewell as Remus trudged back to the elevator.

Remus had been laying down, back pressed hard against the cold concrete of the floor. The chill from beneath seeped in through his spine and into his chest, weighing him down heavily. He just couldn’t stop thinking about his upstairs neighbor.

It had been hours since his last visit already, and the man upstairs was still pacing across his apartment, occasionally he would stop and silence would follow. The pacing always started back up though.

Absent-mindedly, his hands fiddled with the necklace around his neck, running his fingers across the cool, smooth metal.

He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he wanted to help.

Remus knew that he didn’t have all the facts, and he didn’t really want to intrude on the man’s life. There was a possibility that nothing was wrong, and he was just imagining things. He didn’t want to pester his neighbor with his stupid, false worries.

But what if something is wrong? You saw his puffy eyes. You know you heard those sounds. His mind kept telling him. You can’t just leave him alone, can you?

Remus nodded to himself and for the second time that day, stood and made his way back to the other’s door. More hesitantly this time, he knocked. His raps were slow and unsure as he swayed nervously from side-to-side.

He heard the pacing stop, and he waited, his focus on nothing but his shoes this time around. Then he heard footsteps approach the door and he looked up just as the door swung open.

He was met with the same mismatched eyes, messy hair, and sweater. He didn't forget to take note of the new eye bags and odor he’s sporting with him though.

“Oh, it’s you again.” the nervousness of his neighbor's voice managed to carry through despite the fabric covering his mouth.

Remus ran a hand through his hair and looked to the side. “Yeah.” he chuckled unsurely.

“I just- I’m still worried,” he said, smile falling. “I know you said you were fine, but… I just felt the need to check again. It’s- those sounds- they’re not leaving me alone.” he tentatively looked up into the other’s eyes. “Are- Are you sure you’re ok?”

Remus is pretty sure he saw the scarred side of his face twitch, probably in annoyance he’s sure. He knew it was a bad idea to come back up. He was always such a bother, even to his own family. What made him think a stranger would appreciate seeing his face twice in one day?

“Yes.” the answer cut through Remus’s thoughts and redirected his attention. “I am absolutely positive that everything’s fine.” There was a hint of irritation that Remus desperately wished he didn’t hear.

“Once again, thank you for caring, it’s very kind. Truly. But I really do have some urgent work to get back to. I wish I could help you with the noise, but I didn’t hear a thing. In fact, I’m almost certain it was just the wind. You need to stop worrying so much over such a trivial thing.”

Remus’s body became hot with shame as he shrunk in on himself. He nodded at the man before he sluggishly made his way back.

The following morning, he didn’t even bother with breakfast. Immediately going over to slouch on his couch, he stared back up at the ceiling. It seemed to be a new favourite hobby of his apparently.

He had a lot of time to think about the previous night, about his last interaction with the man upstairs.

There was no way those sounds were from his imagination. He was in a groggy state when he heard the yelling, sure, but surely the pacing wasn't something his ears made up. Surely, the messy hair and puffy eyes weren't something his eyes made up.

His mind carefully brought up the idea of confronting him again, but he quickly winced and scrapped the idea. The irritated voice of the other causing his gut to lurch in a nauseating way.

He was most certainly not going to be looking him in the eyes for a good while now.

He was starting to break through the surface though, right? Maybe he should just call it quits and admit that he can't help.

He couldn't just go back up again, he didn't think he could take the ice-cold, biting irritation again.

Remus sat, rolling the interactions over in his head. Whoever said anything about a letter? A lightbulb sparked, setting an explosion through his body that jolted him up from his seat with a gasp.

"A letter! That's so simple! I don't have to face him again, and he doesn't have to feel as much pressure! I'm a fucking genius!" He yelled, pumping his fists into the air with triumphant gusto.

He rushed over to his desk, brimming with excitement as he began to write.

In Remus's very distinct, messily scrawled printing, he began:

Sup Mr Scarface! (I haven't even thought to ask your name yet lmao)

Listen up nerd! I promise I'm not playing tricks on you when I say this

You’re always welcome to come in

You could stay here for an hour or two if you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you’re ready

But… til then I’ll say it must have been the wind.

Yours sincerely, annoying dude from yesterday ;)

Remus let out a long, pleased sigh as he gave it a quick once-over. He saw many mistakes, but he gave them not even a second glance before he was already out of the door.

He was going to deliver this letter and it was going to be wonderful!

Remus shucked his jacket off and onto his coat-rack upon returning from work the following day. It had been a pretty good day today. No awful homophobes, that's for sure.

Turning his T.V. on for background noise, he moved over to his miniature kitchen. Distantly aware of a news reporter talking about some murder, he got started on his rice and gravy.

Perhaps 10 minutes passed by when he heard a gentle rapping on the front door.

Remus curiously strode over and opened his door, surprised to see the man from upstairs in front of him.

"Oh, wow. Hey there, dude! Didn't expect to actually see ya this soon!" Remus exclaims.

"I, uh, yeah…" the scarred man shifted in place for a few moments, burying his face into his sweater. "If the, uh, offer is still open, I’d love to have someone to talk to,” he mumbled through the thick fabric.

Remus stood and processed the words for a few seconds before grinning widely.

"Of course! Of course! Come on in, my man! Lunch will be done in a bit if you want some!”

The other smiled and shyly slunk into his apartment

"I’d love that.” He said. “Thank you.”

"Not a problem at all! My name's Remus by the way!" He excitedly extended a hand for the other to shake.

Said man looked at his hand for a moment or two before carefully clasping his own around it.

Even more carefully, his shy voice spilled a simple name. "...Janus."

#Demus #platonic demus #romantic demus #Janus Sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic janus #songfic #sanders sides

63 notes · View notes

unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

The Lovers Card

Finally, after so long, this commission is complete! This commission is for @shoccydoccy featuring their oc Mitch and the Doctor. Husband versions of Bonnie and Clyde. I had a great time writing out their dynamic!!!

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes !!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Dead by daylight

Relationship: The Doctor/OC (Mitch)

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, canon typical violence and mentions of blood, the Doctor’s shockies being used in non painful ways, horror husbands???, roleplay of chase, face fucking, possessive behavior

Words: 5.3k

____________________

The Entity’s realm was not for lovers.

Positive emotions here were built upon hope and a dream, a dream that would be crushed under the spider-like limbs with a haunting, twelve people sounding laugh. The Entity did not allow its play things any positivity lest it wished to destroy it. At least, that’s what most survivors would tell you. The ones who had hoped that even in a realm such as this, that their obsessive killers would no longer be a threat over their head.

For Mitch, he had listened to those survivors tell their stories at the campfire when he had entered. They all sounded frightened, stressed, tired. Being one of the former lead doctors at a psychiatric institution, he made quick assumptions of their relations with each one.

~Rest under the cut~

Laurie swore no relation to the monster who had chased her since she was merely a girl. Yet, there was something hesitant in the way she spoke, a wobble to her lips as if somewhere in the back of her mind she KNEW who this man was that followed her. Mitch assumed that he must have been family, or a family friend, but perhaps one she was not close with nor knew. Yet, the blood still ran deep. He quickly could guess PTSD, anxiety disorder, and clinical depression. Yet, how curious was her loud, fighting spirit? Her need to survive and see him destroyed outweighing her need to lie belly up and die.

Quentin looked stressed at even any word beginning with the letter F. As if you would say a certain word or a name, and a boogeyman would come jumping out. He confided that he didn’t sleep, wringing his hands and eyes looking everywhere but Mitch as he talked about the dream killer. As if in a realm such as this, that was something funny to believe in. A child’s story.

Mitch had hummed to show he was listening as he idly wrote in his journal. PTSD, high case of paranoia, insomniac, and clinical depression. Yet, what kept him going when it looked like he just wanted to drop and let himself get the end of a sharp weapon to his throat?

For Mitch, he too had his own obsession. But, unlike in the way these two seemed to be. They were stressed to even think of the ones who obsessed over them, and yet, Mitch could only obsess over this...’Doctor’ they kept discussing. A killer in these very realms said to be one of the most ruthless.

Feng had come to this realm, born in electricity and the high levels of static echoing throughout white walls and a haunting laugh. She tells Mitch this with a shrug, as if running her own killer had been a piece of cake. However, something catches Mitch off guard. Something that shouldn’t have been something too big a deal- but it’s the way she described her surroundings.

White walls. A hospital with an eerie feeling. Different levels now overgrown with plant life and the ceilings busted open. Flickering lights. A big open room with various televisions. The gates being huge and eerie and with two ways out. A library on one side, an office on the other with old books and a record player-

It’s all too perfect. So, Mitch had nonchalantly asked if she’d caught a plaque with a name on it. Something to tell what the hospital was possibly called?

When the words: ‘Lery’s memorial’ pass her lips, Mitch lets the first positive emotion flood his body. Of feelings that would disgust the Entity.

Of hope.

Of nostalgia.

Of...love.

Mitch had yet to come into any contact with both that place as well as the killer known among the survivors as ‘The Doctor’. Everything had been far too perfect thus far; Everything fell into place just right. And if...and if it was Herman? Where had he gone? Who had taken him? Was it the same being that had come to Mitch in his dreams and scooped him away into the deadly fog?

They both were not even the slightest innocents. In life, Mitch had matched wits, banter, and intellect with the doctor, which caused Herman to gain interest in the younger.

Herman Carter was a man who had a fascination with both science and psychiatrics- mostly dealing with the n eurological system and the questions such as: Why do we all think? Why is the brain so active in certain lobes? He was known among colleagues to be cold and clinical, or almost mad in a way. He was very persuasive and was known as the smartest man in the room, but didn’t have a lot of friends.

Mitch had come to the institute as a new and upcoming doctor. Unlike Herman who had all his life been fascinated by the brain, with all the neuroscience that came with it, as well as knowing all his life that he would succeed. Mitch had led a different life. Struggling to get into college due to the costs and taking back alley jobs.

Herman had intimidated Mitch at first. He couldn’t lie about that. He stood just as tall as he did, rich dark brown skin, signs of aging on his face but with grace. His voice was smooth and deep, always sounding refined and clinical when he spoke. His smile was one that stretched all the way to his deep black eyes, framed with crow’s feet that hinted that he grinned and laughed quite often.

His stature and physique were intimidating, imposing, yet as time went on Mitch learned that he kind of...liked that. Besides, he wasn’t bad once you got to know him- a little off the hinges, sure, but nothing that was too much for Mitch. In fact, you could say they were a perfect match.

Mitch, in turn, must have looked like a plain Jane up next to him. At least in Mitch’s eyes.

Similar in height with black curls coming down to his shoulder always pulled up and out of the way in a ponytail and standing out against his peachy skin tone. His own voice was thickened with a Russian accent, his own verbal ticks leading to him tumbling over a few English words.

Large lensed glasses cover his hazel eyes, his lashes thick and eye shape kind and softly shaped. His usual outfit even stood out in comparison to Herman’s nice suits. Mitch normally wore something akin to a collared mustard yellow shirt with a little brown tie. An earth toned sweater vest thrown over and some nice dress slacks and shoes with his doctor’s coat. Something he currently wore in the trials as well.

The hospital they had worked had been no place for romance. Neither had Herman been looking for anything of the sort. And yet, something blossomed between the two.

Mitch was a rather forward person once Herman got to know him. Once was a man who spoke in small talk and niceties, now became more assertive in his wants. To the point on one long night, he’d taken a drink from his cup of coffee, leaning on the counter and told Herman truthfully that he wanted to see him outside the clinic one of these times. Herman had been a bit taken back, he’d admit, normally people beat around the bush or thought him as rather ‘off the rails’.

But all he could see from Mitch was honesty past his thick lashes as he took another drink of his coffee with a soft hum in his throat as he waited for the reply from Herman. Seeming unaffected if he would accept or deny him. And well, Herman could admit, both his intellect and appearance were very attractive. Not to mention his confidence in challenging someone such as himself.

In the end, Herman had accepted. No guilt in his body, as if somehow, he knew that in the future that if Mitch caught onto the more...elaborate experiments he was conducting. That well...

Well...Mitch wouldn’t be too innocent himself in that event. Always such an eager dog to follow.

By the time Herman is taken into custody and offered a job under the name AWAKENING, he knows no one better than he’d want at his side for the job than his former partner and his now current husband. Convincing the higher ups isn’t a problem, not when he’s their best interrogator on the scene. And being able to watch Mitch methodically take people apart on the job? Now that was just a bonus. A delicious, delicious bonus.

Mitch had found himself following deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. Anywhere Herman went, he followed. If Herman said they were going underground to an institute called ‘ Lery’s Memorial’ for more experimentation to be conducted, that’s where he followed. If Herman said that Mitch was to help him figure out the fundamentals of electroshock therapy on an exposed brain to figure out mind control methods? Then, well. Mitch followed.

Yet, even in the darkest of moments, they could find a home in the other. Another worldly couple of Bonnie and Clyde. At their jobs, they were the best of the worst. And at home, Herman would hold Mitch in his arms as they swayed in the kitchen and murmured sweet nothings to one another. Forehead to forehead, fingers laced, an everyday looking couple. Gold ring bands to match and all.

No. The Entity’s realm? It was truly not made for lovers. It tried its hardest to keep the positive out. Even if that said couple was a quietly infamous couple.

And yet, this begged the question. What if a survivor, was just as willing and able to give the pain as a killer was?

What if Mitch’s theories were right and his beloved was seen as more of a nightmare than himself? If this is where Herman had disappeared to so long ago?

Time would only tell.

Mitch learns the realms rather quickly. Taking to sketching them in his notebook in his book with the killer that was found there. He finds repetitions of these killers exist in different realms, so it didn’t seem that they would stay in their own designated ‘area’, but merely whatever the Entity picked.

In the same way, the survivors are picked seemingly at random. Though, Mitch finds that if it is someone such as the Shape, that Laurie will always be involved. Similarly, if it is the Nightmare, Quentin will be involved. It...

It almost makes him give up his theory. Figuring it was perhaps just his hope keeping that feeling alive. Wouldn’t it have made sense for the Entity to pair them up? Wouldn’t it be something to agonize over? Wasn’t that a goal of the Entity’s, to cause as much pain as possible?

It’s something he mulls over while he plays with his wedding band one day, looking at the glittering gold with a soft sigh passing his lips. Of longing or frustration, not even he’s entirely sure.

As far as he knew in the mortal realm, Herman had been taken from the institute by police where they discovered Mr. Stamper. Where his head was cracked open and electrodes and prods were inserted into a still, very much working brain. His research papers had been left, but he’d been...just gone.

And then, just like this, Mitch was here. With a realm matching the description to a T. A realm he’d yet to be in, and a killer he’d yet to see.

But then. One day. It happens.

When Mitch awakens, he finds himself no longer in the warmed bed in the cabin of their camp. He finds himself blinking himself awake to the entrance of a building with two wide , swung open doors. Overgrowth enters the building with tufts of grass, leading into blindingly white walls, white floors, hospital beds, flickering televisions hung on the walls...

‘Lery’s memorial’ reads the plaque outside said doors. Mitch finds that small bit of hope flickering into his system at the sight. Of course, he had learned from the other survivors, that these realms were also based on areas they’d had immense trauma in. Such as Laurie with her old neighborhood, or Quentin with the preschool grounds. So maybe...maybe this is just where the Entity took his own memories and made them into something painful to look at.

Grounding himself, Mitch finds himself going around familiar corridors and finding the place to be near exactly as remembered. Just vacated of patients, experiments, and of course it being now run down. But he tries to ignore the nostalgia as he finds a generator and begins getting to work on it with a few small tugs of the wires.

It’s when the sound of a fellow survivor getting shocked with a haunting, chilling yet familiar laugh does Mitch shoot up. Forgetting his position at the generator as it cracks with its own shock from being suddenly jolted. It would alert his position. And maybe that’s what he wants.

The familiar sound of thrumming in his ears and the feeling of his hair standing on end makes Mitch move around the corner to GREET the killer, near frantic with the need to know. It was all on a hunch, a theory. But if he was right, if he could see Herman again, if he would even recognize his own husband after so long locked up here to play a game by a creature yet unseen-

He near bumps right into the killer. Standing just about as tall as Mitch does. His unblinking gaze and a grin stretched across his face being of a familiar retainer to keep a patient’s facial parts open for no natural reflexes to get in the way. He recognizes it instantly; It had been one of Herman’s favorites to keep his patients from becoming too rowdy.

This killer’s skin is paler than the rich, dark tone he’d been familiar with. Now almost ashy and dead. Electricity shoots up bare arms, the doctor’s coat’s arms ripped off- or singed off from the very electricity running through his veins. Blood splatters his coat, dried over his cheeks, eyes wide open and seemingly full of electricity themselves in how they glow. Mitch’s eyes fall to his left hand, almost frantic with the need to know.

A gold band rests on the killer’s left ring finger and he feels his heart pick up in speed, but not from fear.

His heart does something odd, lurching in his chest as his fingers shake. The Doctor seems at a pause too, fingers clutched tight around the electric spear in his hand. He cocks his head to look at Mitch better, eyes flickering over his frame looking like mini fireflies with how bright they are, and even with the headgear Mitch can see his eyebrows try to furrow.

“Herman-” Mitch breathes out, outstretching a hand and reaching for his face. Immediately his wrist is snatched by the Doctor’s free hand, but not hard enough to hurt, just stopping him from touching. The electricity doesn’t even hurt, feeling like a pleasant tingle as static clings to his skin.

The hand snatched is taken closer to the Doctor’s face for closer inspection. Hypnotically bright eyes land on the gold band and Mitch watches as his head cocks, glancing back to Mitch’s face, then back to the band.

A small shock is sent through Mitch’s frame and a gasp is sent through him as he watches his vision turn almost blindingly blue briefly. Almost...almost hallucinations swarming his visions of memories. Of arms wrapped around him from behind in the lounge room, of Herman slicing up vegetables in the kitchen, mundane tasks all leading to the last one of Herman. Black and orange fog surrounding him in a room with a severed head.

When Mitch blinks, he’s face to face with the Doctor who has now bowed his head and let his wrist go, near nose to nose with Mitch who finally lets one side of his lips curl up in a lopsided smile. “Herman.” He murmurs again, surer of himself as his hands come up to cup Herman’s cheeks. Feeling the heat of electricity radiating off his body, the dried blood under his fingertips, and how dry his skin was.

A man of few words, Mitch doesn’t feel the need to ask if this is where Herman had gone, if this is where he’d been taken, he doesn’t feel the need to cry either. It was as if he knew one day they’d be together again. Even if Herman was wielding a scary looking weapon and was clearly no longer human.

“My dear,” Echoes into Mitch’s mind suddenly like a click, a voice he’s familiar with, cooing the pet name so fondly as a hand comes to rest on Mitch’s waist. “You’ve still insisted on wearing the sweater vest?”

It’s such a playful thing to say that it makes Mitch choke out a laugh, affectionately nudging his forehead on Herman’s chin in a gentle bonk. “And you tear off arms of lab coat like animal?” His reply is thick with his accent, his voice hoarse from lack of use since he’d come to this realm. The response he gets in turn from Herman is that haunting laugh, shrill and high like multiple voices.

Herman tries to grab at his waist again to toy with the vest, but Mitch takes a step back, out of arms reach and watches as Herman watches him hungrily. A familiar and old look that meant he knew what Mitch was up to.

Mitch, in life, had been a huge tease. Liking to rile Herman up, tease him until Herman would shove him up against a wall and snarl about having his way with him. Similarly, Mitch could be very forward, insisting on taking what he wanted. With much consent on both ends, of course.

But a little roleplay after so much time apart certainly wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“You want off?” Mitch hums, letting a grin blossom onto his face as playfulness sparkles in his eyes. “Take.”

Herman’s eyes spark to life at that, the laugh that seemed to echo through both mind and reality itself leaving him as he takes his rod and smacks it twice against the palm of his other hand.

“As you wish, little thing.”

The chase begins after Mitch darts around the corner and begins running in a seemingly aimless direction. He’s run killers before, sure, but those were guesses of where to go. In a place he was familiar, with his husband of all people on his tail, it felt like there was no escape. He can feel the heat creeping on his back each time, can hear the laughter that follows it. When a shock is surged through him, he doesn’t scream like the others might, instead he only stutters his steps to gasp as red hot pleasure shoots up his body.

Well, that was an accidental side effect. Or perhaps an ability? He was unsure of what his ‘abilities’ were when he arrived, the other survivors said they found out in due time.

What a treat to conflict with the person of his affections.

Mitch finds himself running towards the other end of the institute, dodging around any running generators he hears despite knowing that the others will merely think he’s going to get caught. He taunts and teases the entire time, curling around walls and darting back around Herman just to hear him growl in frustration and chase him again.

By the time Mitch turns another corner, he finds himself in an office. The window is busted out, tinted glass on the ground. The desk has papers strewn all across it, filing cabinets left open and a chair spun out of the way. A couch with a fake plant rests in one corner, worn down from use and made of leather.

Nostalgia hits him quicker than he can think to turn around because it was a dead end. And it seems he’s been caught.

A hand grabs his wrist, curling fingers into the bone there and slamming Mitch back against the wall. A strong body fits against his own like a missing puzzle piece, knocking his glasses askew as a gasp escapes his lips. A powerful thigh nudges his legs apart, forced between them as well as his caught wrist thrust above his head and effectively pinning him.

“You have always liked riling me up.” The voice echoes through his head tauntingly, the grind of a thigh between Mitch’s legs making his breath hitch and eyes flutter. “Do you wish to do this while my goal is to ensure you do not leave?”

Quite the point, Mitch thinks to himself, but he knew Herman would never hold that rod against him until he had his fill. A little blood never hurt anyone, and Mitch doesn’t mind the idea of failing his own little survival mission if it meant his husband would not get punished.

Perhaps Mitch was a glutton for punishment as is. But if it was a punishment his husband could give him? Oh, he’d like nothing more.

So, he hums his approval with a little nod of his head, a smile crossing his face before fading to parted lips and a gasp when the thigh grinds up once again. Rocking him and making his own hips squirm. His free hand comes up to make a half assed push against Herman just to rile him up further, succeeding when he drops his weapon to snatch Mitch’s other wrist and slamming him against the wall.

Mitch’s lashes flutter, eyes falling to Herman’s mouth that’s split into a grin from the headgear. The need to kiss him is strong, the need to completely overtake his mouth and remember his taste- strong of coffee- lingering on the tip of his tongue. He has a feeling the headgear is screwed into place, so he offers a soft whine and a murmur of, “I wish I could kiss you.”

It’s the softest thing he’d say or do tonight. Herman matching with a soft, gentle press of their foreheads together. Something that perhaps would ruin the mood for any other couple who hadn’t had similar scenarios like this play out. It’s soft affection, probably the gentlest Herman has had in so long.

The thought makes Mitch’s heart constrict. Surely Herman was in his sadistic element, that much he could understand. But where was his pause? His reprieve?

Mitch’s breath fans across his face and at first, they just soak in the company together. Gentle, quiet, a pause in the storm they would soon create.

But the click of a generator starting makes both of them revive.

Mitch is first to move, pulling his head back and reeling it forward to knock Herman back in a short distanced headbutt. It only serves to make the Doctor grunt, leaning back and tightening his grip as he comes right back forward to get into Mitch’s personal space. Mitch’s victorious grin is soon wiped from his face as he’s thrown to the floor. Forced to his knees with a hand sliding into his hair and threatening with gentle static that he’d get his brain fried if he put up a fight.

Not that he would, of course. They both know that. Because if anyone were looking, you couldn’t see. But Mitch sees the way Herman tilts his head, a quiet question that Mitch nods to. Yes, he wanted this, yes, he liked it.

Mitch grins once more as he’s on his knees, scooting closer and nosing at the bulge below Herman’s belt buckle. The hand in his long hair, fisting his ponytail presses him forward so he can rub his cheek shamelessly against the tent with a longing sigh.

“Sorry,” Mitch murmurs adoringly, reaching up to help undo the Herman’s belt with practiced ease. Sliding his fingers down to his button and fly, undoing it with a bit of clumsiness with the shakiness of his hands. He bites his lip to stop a grin from happening when Herman grunts in confusion. “For escaping you.”

It’s a taunt. The way he says it as he flutters his lashes up at Herman to hint that he could have totally evaded him and won this round. He lets a grin creep onto his face as he hooks his underwear and pants down to mid-thigh, seeing how Herman is already half hard.

He always had such a pretty cock. Seven, verging on eight inches with a curved lean upwards. The head is bulbous, foreskin covering the sensitive lower glans and making the head shiny and flushed dark pink from arousal. In life he would have been shaved, and it seems it stayed the same in the realm as well with the smooth flesh revealed.

“I have almost had enough of your petulant teasing. Are you going to show you are sorry?” Herman’s voice rings in his head pleasantly, a low growl with his voice deepened in arousal. Fingers twist in Mitch’s ponytail, thrusting him forward until his mouth brushes against Herman’s cock.

Immediately to work, he presses hot kisses on the underside. Letting his tongue loll out to lick a warm, flat stripe from the underside to the head where he presses sloppy kisses. He moans when he licks up the precum, making sure Herman’s watching as he peers up at him from on his knees as he takes his cock into his mouth. At first, he just suckles on the head, letting the familiar weight settle and hearing pleased grunts above him and soft growls. It almost sounds like an animal.

It’s when Herman has had enough does Mitch start to scramble at his thighs. His ponytail is held taut as Herman fucks his mouth, making good usage of Mitch’s throat as he controls his gag reflex. His lashes flutter, eyes welling up with tears as his fingers clasp onto Herman’s pants at his thighs, eyes near rolling back into his skull as his throat is fucked.

Each lengthened thrust, where Herman holds himself just a bit longer, makes him whimper. Feeling himself strain in his own pants as filthy words bleed into his head. “Look at you, little one. Keep up your practice? ” “Good boy, you look at home down there.” “I can see how much you like it.”

At the last one, Herman adjusts to press the sole of his dress shoe on the front of Mitch’s pants just to hear him sob out through his nose and jerk his hips into his touch. So sensitive.

Finally, Herman pulls from his throat, yanking Mitch’s head back and letting him pant for air. He looks so pretty with his throat exposed, lips flushed and parted, lips shiny from saliva and some drool spilling down his chin. A filthy mess. A mess that Herman can’t help but grab the chin of, pressing his thumb to his lips just to watch Mitch greedily suckle at his thumbpad.

“Insatiable as always, my love.”

Another generator goes off and Herman is guiding Mitch to stand. Mitch tugs at Herman to come closer, bringing them to his desk so Mitch can lie on his stomach on top and let Herman tug at his pants. Lubricant possibly was something they would have needed in the institute for either any gear or keeping an area slick for suction cups, a bottle of which is found in Herman’s coat.

Prep is easy enough with how needy Mitch is. His cock is pressed to the desk flat, kind of hanging between his legs and twitching helplessly against the wood as Herman’s fingers work him open. The entire time Mitch squirms and sighs, his cock jerking and spilling some precum in a heavy, sticky drop that leaves a brief string leading from his cock to the floor that snaps under gravity.

By the time Mitch is stretched enough, and even then maybe not even enough, just when he starts to get antsy. Herman slicks himself up and pushes inside with a grunt from his chest, Mitch matching with a low moan into his arms that he has crossed under his head. A swear in his native tongue croons out when Herman’s hips are flush with his ass, another sigh leaving him when Herman’s grabbing his ass firmly and spreading him apart just to see where they’re connected.

Herman is quick to start a decent pace, making Mitch make soft sounds, digging his nails into the desk as soft sighs leave him. A hand slides up his waist to press to the curve of it, as if caressing him. And it would be sweet, but it’s not what he wants.

“You can do better than that, yes?” Mitch taunts, rolling his hips into the next thrust and hiding a grin in his arm when he hears a growl. A smack to his ass draws a soft moan from him, but he hides it with a laugh. “C’mon, be good boy, harder.”

The ‘good boy’ makes Herman huff behind him, this little embarrassed sound Mitch was so in tune with. Herman sure knew how to talk pretty and gave off an aura of dominance, but they both knew who led the relationship.

Immediately Herman obeys, picking up pace, fucking him harder as electricity curls up Mitch’s body where Herman’s hands touch. Mitch whines in return, his hips pressing back eagerly, practically humping the edge of the desk for some sort of stimulation to his neglected cock.

Each slam into his ass makes Mitch’s soft taunting turn into moans. Another generator clicks on and Herman gets practically frantic to fuck into him. Animalistic with his grunts and growls, occasionally laughter seeming to escape him as if he can’t help it. When Mitch opens his mouth to coo at him, he yelps when his ponytail is caught again.

Herman yanks him to stand practically upright. Forcing Mitch’s back to his chest as he fucks into him. Herman’s hand leaves his hair to wrap loosely around his neck, static threatening his fingertips as his other hand shoves down to jerk Mitch off. In Mitch’s head is an echo of things, all seeming to intertwine with each other like too many voices trying to talk to him at once. Conflicting possessive with praise.

“You’re mine.” “I adore you.” “You’re mine to ruin, little thing.” “I’ve missed you.” “You’re going to cum on my cock like the pathetic thing you are.” “Let me see you lose it, my dear.”

The stimulation and echoes are too much. Mitch feels the final push he needs and he’s cumming with a cry, one of his hands grabbing Herman’s wrist that rests near his throat. His other hand coming back to grip Herman’s hip and forcing him to stay close as Herman cums inside of him with a snarl. Cumming with Herman’s hand jerking off the base of Mitch’s shaft, Mitch’s dick jerks almost freely, cumming onto the desk, partially onto his own shirt and the papers left askew on the floor.

Mitch pants heavily against Herman’s body, feeling the strain on his neck relaxing and the almost violent whispering shushing in his mind.

There’s a careful sort of way Herman pulls out. But then something is being shoved into Mitch again and at first he whines in a muffled protest before relaxing when coos in his mind tell him to.

A plug is pressed into him to keep the cum inside. Herman helps him with his pants, patting his ass fondly as if mocking him in turn before another click of a generator happens. The gong of the bell alerting that gates could be opened perks Mitch’s ears, but not as much as the laughter behind him and the creeping feeling of electricity .

“Run, little rabbit. Before I decide to see what your insides look like.”

No, the Entity’s realm was not made for lovers.

But, perhaps maybe lovers with a twisted sense of humor.

#The Doctor #The doctor x oc #Mitch (Oc)#dead by daylight #dbd #dick by daylight #lemon #nsft #commissions #princess writing #Herman Carter

8 notes · View notes