#i was messing around and i made this as a moodboard for together we stand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

graygvf · 2 years

Text

You’re The One

Part Ten

Pairing: Josh X Sage (Female OC)

Word Count: 4.3 K words in this chapter

Summary: Sage is trying to adjust to her new life in Frankenmuth by auditioning for the school play. But will her past hinder her from reaching for her dreams? Or will Josh be there to lend a helping hand?

Warnings: None for this chapter

Moodboard created by @parizonefourfour (Thank you for being my bestie <3)

MASTERPOST

PLAYLIST

The door slams behind me as I run inside the house. I have about an hour before Josh gets here and I need everything to be perfect. I walk into my room and take in the huge mess I’ve made over the last week. I’ve never been the tidiest person, but the emotions over the last week made even thinking about picking all of this up impossible. With a heavy sigh, I get to work, scooping up all the discarded clothes and tossing them into the laundry hamper, and throwing all my shoes into the bottom of the closet. After shoving my closet door shut, I start to make my bed. The only person who's ever even been in my room, other than my mom, is Cora and she couldn't care less whether it's messy or not, so I don’t normally take the time to clean it up.

I have been stressing about Josh coming over ever since he dropped me off at my class after our lunch together.

Telling Cora went exactly how you’d expect.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“I knew you liked him” She smirked as she leaned against the locker next to mine. Her words make my hands start to shake, thus making me fumble with my textbooks as I try to shove them into my locker.

“I never said I did. He’s coming over so we can watch Midsummer. That’s it.” The last of my books falls to the floor as I speak. Without making any more eye contact with her I reach down and pick it up, practically throwing it into my locker and slamming the door shut. She rolls her eyes at me once I turn to look at her again.

“So, you’re just casually having a cute boy come over, while your mom isn’t home, just to watch your favorite play together?” The sarcasm in her voice oozed like honey from her lips, but I couldn’t really describe it better than she did.

“Yes. And there’s nothing more to it.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder and wrap my arms around tightly over my chest. The nerves starting to take over my entire body. Maybe I had jumped too quickly to have him come over for the project, I mean I really don’t know him that well. One drive home and one lunch together didn’t change that we were practically strangers. I contemplated canceling altogether. I know that he was just coming over to work together, but I can’t help but feel like maybe I wanted more to come from it. I don’t want to put Josh in a

position where he feels like he is obligated to have feelings for me.

“You better not cancel on him, Sage.” It was like she had read my mind. “That boy is so into you, and you’re obviously into him, so why not make something happen?”

I groan and quicken my stride as we make our way towards the auditorium, “I’m not going to cancel, only because we need to work on the project. But Cora, c’mon, there is no way he’s into me. I’ll give it to you, he is cute. But just look at our personalities, we couldn’t be any more different.”

“And opposites always attract,” Cora says smugly, quickening her pace to match my own.

I roll my eyes and shove my way into the auditorium, our conversation ending abruptly as we both walk into Josh, who is standing right inside the entrance talking to Preston.

Josh turns and his face lightens up when his eyes meet mine, “Oh hey Sage, hey Cora.”

“Hey Josh, I hope you and Sage have fun on your little play date tonight,” Cora smirks and grabs Preston’s arm, dragging him towards the exit. Once she’s out of Josh’s sight she turns back to me and mouths the words, “Tell me everything.” I stick my tongue out at her, knowing that I can’t say anything, or Josh will know that Cora is expecting a full report once he leaves for the night.

I watch Cora leave the building before looking back at Josh. Our eyes meet again, and I’m surprised to see that his cheeks match the bright red curtains hanging on the stage, “I uh... I’m sorry about her. She’s just teasing. She knows this isn’t a date.” The words come out of my mouth quickly, and almost sloppily. Trying to make sure that Josh knows that I didn’t tell her this was a date.

Josh nervously laughs and runs his hand through his hair, just like he did at lunch earlier this afternoon. This motion is becoming all too familiar to me at this point.

We stare at each other in silence for what felt like hours before he finally spoke up, “So, I’ll be there at five?”

“Yes! I’ll see you then!” I stalk down the aisle without saying goodbye, too embarrassed from our interaction to even think about it.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

I finish cleaning up my room with ten minutes to spare, sitting on my bed trying to catch my breath from how quickly I had been moving around. Looking around I take in everything, suddenly becoming self-conscious about every little aspect of my room. I didn’t want him to think I was crazy with my wall of vinyl and books that were organized by artists and authors. Or by the posters of musicians from before we were even born that were plastered on every inch of bare space. I know he had good taste in music so far… but that doesn’t mean that my interest in it could seem anything less than obsessed. I decide to turn on the dim Christmas lights I had strung across my ceiling and the several salt lamps I had scattered around the room. Hoping this would at least make the room seem a little more comfortable.

I put on my favorite and very well-used, Sun Giant vinyl, trying to calm my nerves with the soothing sounds of Robin Pecknold’s voice. Before I can even get a chance to hear a few seconds of the song, the ding from the doorbell rang throughout the house.

Once I make it to the front door I freeze in place, my hand hovering over the small golden knob in front of me. It was too late to cancel now, what was I waiting for? I have nothing to be nervous about. It’s only Josh. My classmate Josh. My friend, Josh. I take a deep breath before yanking the front door open. I can hear myself audibly gasp when I finally see his face again. Standing there, his backpack slung over one shoulder. A look of surprise splashed across his cheeks; I must have scared him with how quickly I pulled the door open.

“Hey.” My words come out at a whisper, my nerves keeping any other words from escaping my throat.

“Hey.” His face softens into a smile, exposing all his perfect teeth, his cheeks rosy from the cold.

I stand there staring at him for a few seconds, unable to speak, but then I remember that I have him standing in the freezing cold on my front porch. “Come on in,” I widen the door enough so he can slide past me, his eyes wandering as he looks at all the knickknacks and decorations that filled our home nearly to the brim. My eyes follow his as he looks intently at all the furniture my mom and I have collected over the years, it’s almost as if he’s taking photos with his eyes. Memorizing each piece as he slowly takes it all in.

Our hodgepodge of furniture is far from what you’d see in most houses. Everything was either a from a flea market or an estate sale. We love the character that comes from things that were loved by someone before us, and we like to think of all the memories and stories that could be held within something. Everything put together is eclectic, to say the least, but it's home. Being able to bring all of this up from Texas made settling in here much easier than I thought it would be.

His eyes travel from the different paintings on the walls to the upright piano we had tucked into the corner by the fireplace. His eyes light up at the sight of it and he quickly turns around to face me, “Do you play?” Pointing his thumb at the piano without turning back to look at it.

“Oh yeah, a little. I took lessons when I was a kid, but I haven’t played in a while.” His hand reaches for mine and he pulls me towards the piano, pulling the seat out when we get closer to it.

“Play me a little tune.” He leans his body against the side of the piano, resting his hand on his cheek, obviously, he wouldn’t be taking a no for an answer.

“Well then, I hope you like very poor renditions of the Beatles,” I say, and I sit down on the bench, stretching out my arms and fingers dramatically before I lay my fingers onto the keys. I slowly being playing the opening to Let It Be, having to concentrate heavily on making sure I didn’t play any wrong notes.

“When I find myself in times of trouble…” Josh whisper sings the lyrics to the song, almost so quietly that if I wasn’t trying to hear him, I wouldn’t have. Even though his voice was quiet, it was hypnotizing. I was entranced by each inflection added to the lyrics to the song, his voice was unique, like something from a different time, one of the most beautiful sounds I had ever heard, and I never wanted it to stop.

As I played the last few notes of the song, he joined me on the bench our legs brushing against one another. The same spark I had felt when his hand touched my arm this morning ran through my body, causing me to mess up right at the end of the song.

Josh smiled and applauded as I quickly pulled my fingers away from the keys, “I don’t know how you could ever call that a poor rendition, that was amazing!” His words made me blush and I focused my eyes on the keys, trying to keep the redness from being too noticeable.

“Do you play at all?” I look up at him through my eyelashes, to keep him from seeing the flush across my cheeks.

“A little, but nowhere near as well as Sam plays.” He leans in closer and whispers, “Don’t tell him I told you that, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Sam?” I rake my brain with all the people I have seen at school, but no one with that name rang a bell.

“Oh, I guess you haven’t gotten a chance to meet him yet. Sam’s my younger brother, he plays the bass and keys for our band.”

My ears perk up, “I didn’t know you were in a band? That’s so cool!”

Josh’s enthusiasm spills from him, his voice becoming louder and louder as he speaks, “Oh yeah! It’s me, my brother Jake, Sam, and our friend Danny. We’ve been playing around for a couple of years now.”

“Oh wow! What do you play?” I can feel my body leaning in closer to him, but I’m unable to pull away. Almost as if he has his own gravitational pull, drawing me in closer to him.

“I play the vocals.” He gives me a smug look and I can’t help but burst into laughter.

“That’s an interesting way to put it, but it suits you.” He laughs back at my response, “I’d love to come see y’all play sometime.” The words come flying out of my mouth before I can even think, the excitement of learning something new about him was enthralling. Knowing we had a little bit more in common than I thought made me want to learn even more about him.

“Absolutely! We always need more groupies.” He winks at me and my heart soars, making me unable to speak. Our eyes meet in this moment of silence and all I can do is just take in how beautiful they are. The flecks of gold speckled across the deep shades of brown. My thoughts flash back to the first time I was alone with Jude, the feelings I felt when I thought we would be together forever. This thought makes me jump back from Josh, pulling away so that my body wasn’t touching him at all.

Josh’s face falls, and I start to stand up. Not wanting him to get a chance to make any sort of comment. He isn’t here to learn about my past relationships. He isn’t here for anything more than watching the film. I need to remind myself that. “Are you ready to watch the movie?”

“Oh uh.. yeah, let's do that.” Josh stands up, picking his backpack from the floor.

“Alright then, follow me.” I fake an overly cheery voice, trying to hide the discomfort I had just caused between us. He follows me down the hallway to my bedroom, and I walk over to the TV to turn it on.

Josh walks straight to my vinyl collection before I even get a chance to ask him for the DVD, “Damn Sage, you have quite a collection in here.” Josh is back to his normal happy self at the sight of my shelf of records, “And I thought my family’s collection was big.” Josh runs his fingers along the different sleeves of vinyl before pulling out an old, and very battered, copy of Disraeli Gears.

“Yeah, it’s a little hobby of mine,” I say through my laughter as I gently take the vinyl away from him and put it back in its assigned spot on the shelf.

“By the looks of it, I’d say that’s a little more than a hobby” Josh walks away from the shelf and looks around my room curiously as he takes a seat on the edge of my bed. Without taking his eyes off the walls he digs around in his bag and pulls out a DVD case.

I take the DVD from him and walk back over to my TV, inserting the disk into the player and grabbing the remote before taking a seat next to him on my bed. I look at everything I have splayed around my room, “I know it’s a…”

“It’s so cool. Jake would be so impressed with everything in here.” He says, eyes never leaving the different posters.

“I was going to say a bit much, but I guess I can take that as a compliment.” Josh nudges his shoulder against mine.

“Oh yes, a huge compliment. It’s rare you find someone our age with the same music taste that we have. It’s nice to find someone who enjoys something other than top 40s pop.” He chuckles and places his backpack down on the ground in front of him.

“Yeah, pop really isn’t my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love all music. I think music is such a beautiful thing. The way it can portray any emotion you want, tell magical stories, or even take you on a journey. You don’t get much of that today.”

His eyes look deep in thought by the time I finish talking, “You sound just like Sammy, maybe a little less pretentious, but still…” he lets out a deep belly laugh that practically makes him fall

backward. His laughter is contagious, and I can't help but laugh with him.

“I guess I’ll have to meet my evil twin sometime.” I give him a playful wink before standing up and walking around my bed, kicking off my shoes and plopping down so that my back is against the headboard.

He gets up from his seat and looks at me, “Mind if I join you back there?” He heads over to the other side of the bed and falls dramatically next to me. I giggle as his landing nearly makes me fall off the bed, his hand grabbing my arm to prevent any potential fall, “Hey there, we already had one crash, we can’t let another one happen.” He pulls me back into my spot next to him, our bodies grazing one another as we try and fit together on the small bed.

“Okay drama queen, are you ready to start the movie or not?” I can’t hold back the laughter from the joke he makes, normally I wouldn't be able to take something like that. But with Josh, it's different. It’s like I know he’d never try and hurt me the way I have been before.

“I’ve been ready, you’re the one taking forever.” I roll my eyes and grab the remote from the table next to me, pressing play before returning it back to its place.

The opening music to the movie is soft and romantic, setting the scene perfectly for the upcoming story. I can feel Josh’s body relax into the bed next to mine, his hands reaching up and tucking behind his head and he begins to fully focus on what’s happening on the screen in front of him. However, having him next to me makes it nearly impossible to relax. I can feel myself stiffen every time his body gets closer to mine, not able to think about anything but his golden presence next to me.

Fifteen minutes into the play I know I need to do something to help me relax, or there is no way I could possibly be able to make it through the next three hours. “Hey...” I whisper, not wanting to completely take away his focus.

“Hey.” He whispers back, softly smiling but not taking his eyes away from the actors on the screen.

“Do you mind if I light some incense?” His eyebrows raise and his eyes flicker over to me and then back at the screen, the faint smile never falling. “They just kinda help me relax, it's okay if you don’t want me to.”

“Only if it's patchouli.” He whispers the words at me, his smile falling into a playful smirk.

I giggle and pull out the thin stick from the drawer in my bedside table. I light it and place it on the small wooden holder next to me. The musky scent fills the room, and I can feel my body instantly relax. I normally only pull these out when I meditate or have a very bad mental health day, but I need all the relaxation I can get now.

I move back into my spot on the bed, purposely sitting closer to Josh as I am finally able to relax into the mattress and pay attention to the play. I set my focus on the screen as the actors fly across the screen, taking in each word and each movement. I felt myself getting lost in each point of the play, mouthing the different lines as the performers spoke them aloud.

I feel Josh’s head lean close to mine, “This really is your favorite.” I nod, my eyes never wandering. His body moves as a soft chuckle falls from his lips; in that moment he shifts closer to me. The sides of our bodies fully touch. I can feel myself start to stiffen as he relaxes more against me. My arms cross over my chest, guarding myself not only from his physical touch but also from the emotions I can feel building up in the bottom of my stomach. His skin grazing my own makes it feel like thousands of sparks were flashing in between each limb. I start to try and slow my breathing, counting each second to keep myself from boiling over with nerves.

“You okay?” I look up to see Josh’s eyes looking down at mine, his face twisted into a look of concern.

“Yeah, I’m good.” My voice is shaky, not able to hide the anxiety that is rising from my stomach into my throat.

Josh’s body shifts as he reaches to put one arm gently around my shoulder, giving me a light hug before letting his harm hang loosely behind me. “Is this okay?” His words were cautious, making sure not to push me too far with his touch. I slowly nod as I feel myself start to relax into him. Something I never even experienced with Jude. The ability to relax and feel comfortable with someone I barely know. We both get lost in the film once again, our bodies softening into one another’s.

The further we get into the story, the more I can forget about the nerves that had once been controlling me. My mind only focused on the comfort and warmth from Josh, his earthy and

inviting smell, each breath he took, every small move he made, everything.

The screen fades to black as the intermission for the play begins, feeling overwhelmingly cold as Josh lifts his arm from my shoulder and stands up from his place next to me. I lean over to pause the movie and watch as he stands next to the bed and stretches his arms. Turning to look at me he gives me a sheepish grin, “Mind if I use the restroom?”

“Oh yeah, of course, it's just right down the hall. First door on the right.” He nods and heads from my room, and I instantly find myself missing his presence. Grabbing my phone to distract myself, I look and see that I have several text messages, all but one from Cora.

MOM

Hey doodlebug, it’s going to be later than I thought it would be tonight. I may not be home until after midnight. I hope you and your friend have fun tonight! You’ll need to tell me all about it tomorrow! Love you to the moon and back xoxo

My mom’s text leaves a smile on my face as I scroll through the massive amounts of texts that I have waiting for me from Cora. I decide against responding to her, giggling as I lock my screen and put my phone back down on my bed.

“Now what has you laughing over there.” Josh walks back into my room, a smirk plastered across his face.

“Just Cora being herself, ya know?” He laughs and climbs back into his place next to me on the bed, laying on his side and resting his head on his hand.

“So, I would ask you what you think of the play so far, but I think you know it better than any person on the earth.” I shuffle my body to match his own, mimicking the same position that he’s in.

“It just means a lot to me.” Looking down I start to trace the different stitches that are sewn into the old quilt on my bed.

“Tell me more.” My fingers keep following the patterns of the blanket as I think back on the first time I saw a Midsummer Nights' Dream. The excitement I felt walking through the doorways of the old theatre back in my hometown in Texas.

“Midsummer was the first professional play my mom and I went to see together when I was little. It’s her favorite too. She took me to see it for the first time when I was twelve. I had just started doing theatre at school and she wanted me to experience a classic.” My voice trailed off as the memory flooded my brain, bringing back a sense of comfort I hadn't felt in a very long time.

“And it’s been your favorite ever since?” I look up into Josh’s eyes, his presence alone making me feel like I could melt into the bed.

“Yep. Ever since.” I roll over to my back, staring up at the colorful tapestry attached to my ceiling. Josh’s movements follow mine, and I find myself scooting closer to him as he lays down beside me. We sit in a peaceful quiet for a few minutes before he turns his head to look over at me again.

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“It's been nice.”

“Very nice indeed.” He looks back up to the intricate patterns above. His breathing starts to quicken. I feel his hand move down from his stomach so that it's lightly grazing mine. In a moment of courage, I nudge my hand closer resting two of my fingers on his. Slowly he moves again, lacing his fingers into my own. A quick gasp escapes my lips as I feel the warmth of his skin. We lay there, hands intertwined, his thumb slowly stroking my hand as we both sit in a perfect space of tranquility.

“Should we finish?” The coolness of his voice filled the empty space of my bedroom.

“Yeah, we should.” A sigh releases from my throat as his fingers pull away from mine.

Once I’m sitting up, he wraps his arm around my waist pulling me close to him. I lean my body into him, laying my head against his chest. He reaches and presses play on the remote, allowing the paused screen to light up as the actors continued their performance. I move my hand to the one he has placed on my waist, weaving my fingers into his. Locking them where they are so that he can’t move them. The sense of calm I feel is something I’ve never felt before. All forms of anxiety I thought I would feel have long left my body, and for the first time in what feels like forever I’m able to fully let myself go.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@parizonefourfour @kenzmeehan @heatmyfleet @thefifthsidetome @chipbunkerswhore @weightofdreamz @fvxni @mnmbmswabp @joshkiskal0ver @angelqueen99 @grace-gvf @coffeeadictedstudyblr14

#greta van fleet fan fiction #gretavanfleet #joshkiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh gvf fanfiction #josh gvf fluff #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka #sammygvf #jakekiszka #jakegvf

27 notes · View notes

thatbritishactor · 3 years

Text

#i was messing around and i made this as a moodboard for together we stand #i dunno man #together we stand #ben barnes #for inspiration #billy russo

23 notes · View notes

metalbuckaroo · 3 years

Text

🍒Be Good🍒

💋 SUMMARY// At 3am, every Sunday, Bucky locks his bedroom door to watch his favorite camgirl. What's to happen when he finds out he's much closer to her than leaving generous tips on her videos?

🍒 WARNINGS// Smut, cursing, oral (m receiving), bucky being nervous and cocky all at once, a smidgen of subby bucky, big dick bucky, i think that's it.

💋 AU// Roommate!Bucky x Camgirl!Reader

🍒 NOTE// OK, finally it's done 😅

💋Ronly Friends Masterlist💋

🍒Main Masterlist🍒

Moodboard by// @commonintrest

"Why are we here, exactly?" Bucky asked as the two of you walked into the shop that was filled with different sets of lingerie, sex toys and other things meant for sexual pleasure.

"If you're still serious about doing the video, we gotta get stuff to hide who you are." You shrugged, wandering towards a rack that held masks. "Well, I'm not very sure how many people have metal arms. It'll be kinda obvious."

"Nothing a jacket and some gloves won't fix."

You had expected Bucky to change his mind the next day, but so far he hadn't. He wouldn't say it outloud, but the thought excited him.

Even though you had told him there wasn't any actual sex involved, he just thought about the way your lips were going to feel around him and the glossy red lipstick you had worn in the videos would smudge against his skin and off of your lips.

"How about this one?" He pulled his gaze away from your lips to look at the black mask you held in your hand. "Would I be able to breathe in that thing?" He chuckled, taking it from you. "Well, yeah. There's holes."

Bucky lifted the mask to his face, holding it in place as he looked at you. The rubbery plastic covering from his nose down, leaving his denim blues visible.

Your lips curled up in a smile, raising your eyebrows. "You have really beautiful eyes." Bucky laughed lightly at the compliment, tossing the mask into the basket you were holding. "Thanks, cherry."

🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒

Bucky's head was swarming with thoughts as he sat on your bed that had been covered with a large throw blanket, the backdrop blocking the off white color of the walls and your headboard.

You stood in front of him, one of his t-shirts covering the lingerie set you wore as you set up a tripod. "Okay, stand up." You said with a soft smile, clipping the garter belt to the stockings and looking to him.

Dropping to your knees one at a time once he stood, Bucky sucked in a sharp breath when your fingers worked at the button of his jeans. "I thought you said that pictures were first?" He said, exhaling slowly. "They are, but pants aren't required."

He nodded, his cock already stirring in his jeans at the sight of you on your knees in front of him- tugging the tight fabric down his legs so he could kick them off. "Just one last thing-"

Goosebumps raised on his skin when your lips pressed to his hip bone just above the band of his briefs. A bright red lipstick print gracing the skin when you pulled away and stood with a proud smile.

Sitting back down on the bed, Bucky cleared his throat. "Now what?"

Your foot pushed his apart, trying to keep your eyes away from the bulge in his underwear as he leaned back on his forearms. "Just relax." You shrugged, adjusting the leather jacket to show more of his bare stomach and making sure the metal of his left shoulder wasn't visible, before handing him the mask to put on.

He heard a few shutter clicks after you went back behind the camera, watching as you pressed a few buttons then took the few steps back to him.

"Get 'em?" Bucky said, swallowing thickly when you moved to straddle his lap. "Hands here." You moved his gloved hands to hold your backside, his fingers pushing the hem of the shirt up a little. "You sure?"

Bucky hated that he was showing how nervous he was to be in such close quarters, he'd wanted this since the day you moved in.

"Bucky, if you're not sure about doing this we can stop." You said, leaning away a little to look at him. "It's not that-" he shook his head, words slightly muffled by the rubbery plastic covering the lower half of his face. "I wanna do this."

He cleared his throat and gathered all of the confidence he had as he shifted under you slightly. Your hands resting on his shoulders as his gave a soft squeeze to the supple flesh of your ass, biting back a groan when you brushed the erection straining against his briefs.

A few more shutter clicks and you stood, Bucky finally taking a deep breath to calm the pounding in his chest.

"This seems a little unfair." He said, watching you lean to get your mask from the dresser. "How's that?" You mused, cocking an eyebrow at him

Bucky leaned forward to toy with the hem of the shirt you were wearing. "Take it off." His husky tone sent a shiver down your spine. Thought you tried to hide it by gripping the bottom of the shirt, lifting it up and over your head before dropping it to the floor.

You could feel his slate blue eyes piercing through you, his breathing uneven as his gaze raked over the way the two piece, lacy and white lingerie fit your body as you stood behind the camera again.

"Ready?" Bucky swallowed thickly and nodded, not looking from you as you sunk down to your knees again. Reciting the rules you told him yesterday in his head.

'No kissing, it's too intimate, and be good.'

He lifted his hips enough for you to pull his briefs down his thighs, your breath catching in your throat when his erection sprung out. Long and thick, the tip red and swollen, like it was aching to be touched.

More confidence washed through Bucky at your expression, lips parted as you pumped your hand along his shaft a few times. Eyes flicking up to meet his as your tongue poked out to catch a bead of precum leaking down from the slit, eliciting a low groan from him.

Moaning softly at the salty taste tainting your tastebuds, your lips wrapped around the bulbous head. Glossy red lipstick smudging to the skin just like Bucky had pictured it would.

It didn't take much for Bucky to fall into the rhythm and completely forget about the camera pointed at the two of you. Wanton moans and pants leaving his lips, muffled by the mask but still very audible.

His hand holding the back of your head as you swallowed him down to his base, drool leaking around your lips and down your chin as you squeezed the thick muscles on his thigh- moaning around him

Bucky was already so close from the feeling of your throat constricting around him, he wasn't sure how he fit but he didn't care, it felt amazing.

His body relaxed when you pulled away to take a few gasps of air as you fisted over him. "C'mon, cherry..." he panted, stroking the back of your head, knowing he couldn't tug the hair due to it being a wig.

He was trying to listen to your rule about being good, resisting the urge to fuck up into the warmth of your mouth or rut his hips onto your hand.

But, the manicured hand he had thought so much about was finally wrapped around his cock and he didn't know how much control he had left.

"Remember, you gotta be a good boy." You teased when you leaned up to talk in his ear, smirking when his cock twitched in your hand.

"Fuck-" Bucky said in a low, drawn out moan when you took him in your mouth again, moving your hand to gently roll his balls in your palm as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

His eyebrows knitted together, hair fallen forward and partially shielded his face as his hooded eyes watched your every move.

You felt his balls and muscles in his thigh start to tight in your hands, his hand slipping down to hold the back of your neck when your cheeks hollowed to take more of him.

"Oh- fucking shit-" he hissed before a string of Russian curses poured out of his mouth, his release shooting down your throat.

The wicked smirk that plastered across your face when you pulled off of him made Bucky shudder, the grip on the back of your neck loosening. Watching you with a dazed look as you stood.

Bucky stood from the bed once he got his bearings again, pulling the mask off and cupping over himself as if you hadn't just swallowed his spend. "What about you?"

Lifting your head to look at him as you started to put the stuff away, you shrugged. "That wasn't part of the agreement."

He felt bad that he wasn't going to return the favor, noticing how your slick had soaked through the fabric of your lingerie. "But, you-"

You pecked a kiss to his cheek and patted his red tinted chest. "Just take the win, Buck."

As much as you wanted to, you were ready to cross that line yet. Maybe another day, but for now- the sated look on Bucky's face was enough for you.

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded, leaving your room and making his way to the bathroom for a shower.

He glanced down at the red lipstick smears when he shut the bathroom door, letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled the velcro straps of the leather gloves and tugged them off.

🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒

After both of you had showers and changed, Bucky stood in the kitchen with you as you cooked dinner. Trying not to think too hard about what happened less than an hour ago.

"Y'know, I didn't know you can speak Russian." You grinned, leaning back against the counter across from him. "Now you do." He said, lifting the beer bottle to his lips.

He knew what you were about to say from the teasing smirk that tugged you lips. "You liked being called a good boy, didn't you, James?" You cooed, stepping closer. "Shut the hell up." He muttered, looking to the floor.

Your arms went around his neck loosely, smiling up at him as your fingers messed with some of his long hair. "Awe, you did." You giggled, Bucky rolling his eyes at you. "You're gonna burn the food."

Bucky looked over his shoulder when the front door opened, Sam walking in. "Oh, fuck me." He groaned, turning so Sam couldn't see the strain in his briefs you caused from such a small amount of touch. "What are you two up to?"

"Dinner- stop barging in." Bucky snapped, eyes following his friend as he walked towards the fridge. "Yeah, not gonna happen. Steve is still whining about Peggy." Sam said the name in a mocking tone, holding a beer out towards Bucky. "I'm in my underwear and I'm not your personal bottle opener."

Raising his eyebrows, Sam nodded his head towards the bottle in his hand. Bucky taking it to pop the lid off with his silvery hand.

"Didn't they end it like- a month ago?" You asked, not looking from the pan on the stove. "Mhm, I don't think it will ever stop."

"Give him time, heartbreak isn't easy." You shrugged, a chuckle coming from both Sam and Bucky. "Someone break your heart? Please, cherry, they'd be stupid." Bucky mused, making your heart flutter in your chest.

"That's sweet, but everyone gets their heartbroken at some point." You pointed the spatula at him and he out his hands up in defense. "Ok, ok. Don't spank me." He laughed, the playful look in his eyes making you smile.

"Don't tempt me, I will."

🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒 🍒

Taglist: @likeahorribledream @cxddlyash @iwannabekilledtwice @bookstan0618 @glxwingrxse @yliumy @pineprincess @makbarnes @cupcakehinch @doasyoudesireandlive @magicwithinnightmares @preferredrealty @andy-is-gay @stucky-my-ship @marvel-3407 @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @i-l-y-3000 @avoxzy @impala1967666 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @supernaturalbaesduh @bucky-hues @suchababie @an-adult-midget @pinkoctober99 @ju5tyna20 @hallecarey1 @jxlystan @elizabeth228 @secret21121 @strwbrrybucky @busybeingtrash @harrysthiccthighss @everything-burns-down @ynsdiarys @commonintrest @eireduchess

@hesvoid34 @mrsbarnesinmyimagination @rachellovesloki @mal-edictions @teenagedreams-bucky

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #roommate!bucky fluff #roommate!bucky smut #roommate!au #roommate!bucky #roommate!bucky x camgirl!reader #roommate!bucky x f!reader #camgirl!reader

963 notes · View notes

cali-holland · 3 years

Text

Under the Stars- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: When you invite Tom and Harrison to go to a cabin in the woods with your old college friends, Tom devises a plan to finally confess his feelings for you. Little does he know, the cabin belongs to your ex-boyfriend, and he’s also seeking your attention this week.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: slow burn (ish), swearing, sexual themes (jokes/references), the reader kinda gets sexually harassed (nothing actually happens), fist fight + some blood, tom being a simp

A/N: this was a nine month process, so i hope you enjoy :) also thank you to @duskholland for being so supportive and reading through this fic and editing it. love you hannah! + Also reposting this because the tags didn’t work the first time :/ and tag list will be in a reblog!

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~

When you walked into Tom and Harrison’s house, you weren’t expecting to hear odd grunts coming from the living room. You’d heard many strange noises made in that house— a good amount of their sources were still unknown, but you’d never heard such aggressive grunts. For a moment, you considered slowly backing out of the house and knocking on the door. It would be easy to pretend like you didn’t have a key so you didn’t have to walk in on anyone doing anything gross in the other room.

But then Harrison walked into the entryway, smiling at you as a greeting, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” You replied, closing the front door hesitantly behind you. You pointed towards the living room, “Do I wanna know what’s going on in there?”

Before he could reply, there was a loud bang from the living room, followed by a string of curses. Forgetting all worries of what may or may not have been the cause of the noises, you hurried into the other room with Harrison trailing behind you.

Tom laid on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his foot. Tessa, who had been checking up on her owner, popped up happily when she saw you, rushing over to greet you at your feet. Tom looked up at you and Harrison in the door, forcing out his best smile. You stared at the large tent that was currently taking up most of the space in the living room, questioningly.

“Why do you have a tent set up?” You asked. Tom hopped up off the floor, standing beside the tent.

“Well, our camping trip is this weekend, so I thought I’d make sure it’s still durable.” Tom said proudly. He put a hand against the tent in an attempt to be smooth, but the tent came collapsing down, making Tessa bolt behind you from the sudden loud noise.

“And he wanted to make sure he could actually set up a tent, which clearly he can’t,” Harrison stated, and Tom glared at him in response.

“Were you going to tell him?” You laughed, turning to the blond beside you.

“And miss the opportunity to see him struggle setting up a tent for forty minutes? No, I didn’t tell him.” He smirked, only making Tom more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Tom, it’s a cabin. You don’t need a tent unless you don’t want to stay with everyone else.” You explained. “I just said camping because it’s easier to call it that.”

“Fuck you, mate.” He grumbled to Harrison, flipping him off before starting to put away the mess of a tent. You stepped in to help him, and Harrison just laughed to himself before leaving.

“I really thought you would’ve known. Did you really think I’d invite you and Harrison to spend several days in the woods with me and my college friends in tents?” You joked, “Besides, I didn’t think you’d come if it was actual camping.”

Tom paused his movements, but you continued to undo the poles, taking no notice of his action, “Why wouldn’t I go if it was actual camping?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, looking at him with your usual charming smile, “You’re not the outdoorsy, camping type. You don’t exactly go out and rough it in the woods on the weekend, like Will or Tyler; you play golf with Harrison and your dad.”

While your words were well-intended and teasing, Tom couldn’t help but take them to heart. He took everything you said to heart.

It was hard for him to be so helplessly in love with you, his best friend (besides Harrison) from BRIT school, for the past few years while you were completely blind to it. Normally, he’d do little things to impress you because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted you to know about his feelings— if you knew, there was a chance you’d reject him, and Tom wouldn’t know what to do with himself if that happened. Recently though, he’s started to feel like his heart was going to explode if he didn’t tell you soon, but that didn’t mean he knew how to tell you.

So when you asked if he wanted to go on a camping trip with you, of course he said yes right away. His mind told him that, no, he really wasn’t the outdoorsy, “roughing it” kind of guy, but his heart told him it was a chance with you. He was a sap and thought that maybe he’d pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt under a moonlit campsite, maybe even the two of you could share a tent, maybe he could kiss you in the lake— god, did he want to kiss you.

That had all come crashing down when he’d realized it wasn’t a romantic camping getaway. You’d invited Harrison and a few college friends, friends that neither Tom nor Harrison had ever met. And there was one friend in particular who Tom never wanted to meet— Will, your ex-boyfriend. You two ended things mutually, but Tom couldn’t stop himself from feeling like he needed to compete against Will, especially when he discovered it was Will whose family owned the land you’d be camping on; Will who took you on hikes all around your college town; Will who taught you how to fish and how to kayak with the lakes nearby; Will who one time got bitten by a rattlesnake and sucked out the venom himself; Will who could climb any mountain and come back unscathed. Will was an outdoorsy “roughing it” badass fucker that Tom despised.

And now, you had just furthered proved that Tom was a delicate flower compared to the lumberjack prick that was Will. He didn’t care about being compared to Will’s best friend, Tyler, who (from what you’d told Tom) was in a serious relationship with your other friend, Jane. Besides Jane, the other person accompanying you all to the cabin was Rose, your best friend and Will’s sister. Needless to say, Tom was very grateful that Harrison was coming along too— he didn’t think he could handle a Will-centered week alone.

“We can just leave this for now. I know I promised you Nando’s before we leave.” Tom said, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“Are you sure? We can just get it on the way to the airport.” You said, looking at the tent mess before you.

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” He held a hand out to you and you took it, so that he could pull you up. Before you two could make it out the door, Harrison arrived downstairs with a loaded hiking backpack in hand.

“I know you’re not trying to sneak to Nando’s without me.” He said, and Tom glared at him from behind your back. Harrison was very well aware of Tom’s feelings for you— everyone was except for you, and he took every chance he could get at being a little shit about it, which included ruining quality time for Tom to spend with you.

The three of you left to grab your last meal in the UK before heading back to their house. Tom finished putting away the tent, and Harrison loaded up Harry’s car with your bags as well as his and Tom’s. Harry (through bribery from Tom) drove you all to the airport for the first step in your camping trip.

Since you went to school in the US, all of your friends would be meeting you across the pond. Will’s family cabin was located in Maine, so the flight wasn’t too bad for the three of you— though Tom wished it was longer so he could devise a more accurate plan to impress you this weekend. He had to prove that he could be the outdoorsy badass guy you wanted. He had to outcompete Will.

“Why would you have to outcompete him?” Harrison asked Tom after hearing his dilemma. Fortunately, you were getting the rental car for the three of you to make it to the cabin.

“Because it’s clearly a competition.” Tom stated, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he looked over at you across the way. “She told me I’m not outdoorsy like Will- that makes it a competition and I have to beat him.”

As much as Harrison loved to see his friend fail at keeping it together around you, something felt wrong about telling him, ‘yeah, it’s totally a competition, so go beat up her lumberjack ex’. Instead, he tried, “I don’t think that’s what Y/N meant. You do golf more than you go camping.”

But Tom took no notice of his advice, “Just watch. I’m going to be the manliest man this weekend.”

“Hey guys,” You smiled, coming up to them, making Tom jump very unmanly-like in the process. “You ready to go?”

The journey to the cabin was a fairly long one. After a couple of hours of driving, you parked the car in one of those reserved parking lots off the side of the road. Tom and Harrison both looked around in confusion, spotting nothing but trees and a gas station.

“Why are we stopped?” Tom asked you as you got out of the car. Tom and Harrison followed you out of the car.

“We gotta hike in.” You replied. “The cabin’s down by the lake, so there’s no actual road to get there. It’s only about a mile and a half hike in. Be ready for lots of hiking. I think tomorrow we’re going to hike 12 miles.”

By the time you three got to the little a-frame cabin, it was already dinner time, which was great because that meant you three could sleep soon. The five hour time difference was already starting to hit. Before you could even step inside the cabin, your best friend met you with a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re here!” Rose smiled, stepping out of the hug after a moment.

“We made it.” You laughed. Your other friend, Jane, stepped up next to hug you. “I missed you two so much.”

“We missed you too.” Jane replied. You caught their eyes trailing over to Tom and Harrison behind you, and you remembered that they hadn’t met before.

“Oh, girls, this is Tom and Harrison; guys, this is Rose and Jane.” You introduced the two parties with a smile. After a polite exchanging of handshakes, you looked at the two girls curiously, “Where are the boys?”

“Will wanted to get in a light swim before dinner.” Rose laughed, and Jane made her way back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

Rose gave the three of you a little tour of the cabin. The front door had placed you all in a little entryway room with a simple, wooden staircase taking up most of the room; a fireplace sat beside the stairs with a small loveseat across from it. Besides a rather large bookshelf, it was relatively empty, but elegantly simple nonetheless. There were four doors downstairs, all intricately designed with the same light wood color as the stairs. The first door on the left was explained to be Will’s room, and the second was Tyler and Jane’s. The third stood as the main bathroom, as Rose described it. The fourth door led to Tom and Harrison’s room.

It wasn’t very big— neither of the rooms were according to Rose, but that was the a-frame style of a quaint log cabin. A bunk bed sat on the side of the room with a small wood dresser across from it. There was enough space for the two boys to coexist, and Tom was just grateful he didn’t have to bunk with Will of all people; he was glad he had his best friend with him.

The upstairs of the cabin held the open space of the kitchen and the main living room. With large glass windows covering one of the walls, the living room had a magnificent view of the woods outside, and three couches were set in place to overlook it. Under the couches sat a large bear rug, one which both Tom and Harrison eyed suspiciously at first before Rose laughed it off, reassuring them that it was fake. Behind the couches, the dining room was situated beneath a beautiful antler chandelier and set for eight places, completing the rustic vibe of the cabin. The kitchen, while it was small, seemed to be just as well put together as the rest of the cabin, complete with a breakfast bar. The smell of Jane’s favorite lemon salmon filled the air, making you even more excited for dinner.

Next was your own room, which was just past the kitchen. A queen bed was pushed in a nook with only the foot of the bed accessible. Unlike Tom and Harrison, you and Rose didn’t mind sharing a bed, which is why they got the smallest room downstairs. Right beside your bedroom door was another bathroom.

“You brought stuff for s’mores, right?” You asked Rose as you walked with her, Tom, and Harrison off the cabin’s porch to the nearby shed where they kept all of their hiking and lake gear.

“Yes, absolutely!” She eagerly replied, a happy skip in her step.

“S’mores are a real thing?” Tom questioned in disbelief.

“Of course! You can’t camp without—” You let out a shriek as you felt cold, wet arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed, immediately knowing it was Will. “Oh my god, Will! Put me down! You’re all wet.”

Will chuckled, setting you back down on the solid ground, “Well, if it gets you wet.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. It was then that you realized he was shirtless— shirtless and dripping wet from the lake and gloriously tan and somehow more built than the last time you saw him. Tyler, on the other hand, was still Tyler; still an attractive young guy, but not attractive to you and that most likely has to do with him dating Jane for as long as you’ve known him.

“Ty!” You smiled, hugging him tightly, not even caring if your clothes got wet and gross anymore. You’d just change later when you could.

Tom straightened up a bit, already feeling uneasy about Will’s presence. Will looked like the lovechild of Zac Efron and Chris Evans, with a hint of Scott Eastwood; he was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him. It made Tom question why you two broke up. Even though Tom knew you’d said it was mutual, he also knew it took a lot for girls to walk away from guys that look like that. Meanwhile, Harrison just bit his lip to keep from commenting on his friend’s ridiculous territorial issues.

“So, you two must be Tom and Harrison.” Will held out a hand to them, smiling politely. Tom took his hand, trying to subtly shake it sternly as if to prove he was better than Will— childish, Tom knew it, but he already hated this guy with his six pack abs and perfectly white smile. Will didn’t back down though, squeezing Tom’s hand equally as hard. Noticing both guys tensing up, you looked between them awkwardly, having never seen either of them put on the tough guy act.

With introductions out of the way, you all trekked back inside the cabin. While Will, Tyler, and even you changed into dry clothes, Rose helped Jane finish dinner, leaving Tom to frustratedly rant to Harrison in their room.

“God, he’s so annoying.” Tom scoffed.

“He said two words to you.” Harrison stated, “Try to play nice. I don’t think Y/N wants you two to keep having a ‘my dick’s bigger’ contest.”

“But mine is and I know it!” He exclaimed, before realizing he didn’t know how thin the walls were- and how odd that implication was, “Whatever. He’s stupid. This trip’s stupid.”

Harrison was too busy laughing to even attempt a response to his friend. Instead, there was a knock on the door, pulling both of them from their conversation. Tom opened the door and immediately softened when he saw you, clad in one of his old sweatshirts that he didn’t even realize you still had. It gave him a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to worry that much about Will this week.

“Nice shirt.” Tom commented with a smile.

“Thanks,” You smiled back, “I’ve actually been meaning to give it back to you.”

“What? Why?”

“Is dinner ready?” Harrison asked, cutting off the two of you and reminding you both of his presence. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly.

“Yes, it is.” You laughed, almost embarrassed from forgetting why you had been at their door in the first place. You tugged on Tom’s hand, pulling him out of the room. Harrison grumbled something dejectedly, but you paid no mind to it. Tom sent his friend an apologetic look, though he made no attempt to make Harrison any less of the unofficial third wheel on the journey upstairs to the dinner table.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom how you sat beside Will, even if Tom got the free seat beside you. Harrison slipped into the seat next to him with Rose to his right. The dinner of salmon with potatoes, salad, and bread seemed simple enough, but it was still quite possibly the best fish you’d ever had.

“Did you get a bone?” You asked Tom, seeing him awkwardly moving his mouth like his tongue was fishing out a hard piece of salmon. Blushing from you calling attention to his struggle, he held up a napkin to cover his mouth, trying to spit out the bone without it looking too gross.

“Yeah,” He admitted sheepishly, muffled by the napkin.

“I thought you got them all out.” Jane said, looking at Tyler expectantly.

“Don’t look at me, that was Will’s job.” Tyler laughed as he used his friend as the scapegoat.

“Must’ve missed one.” Will shrugged, before joking, “You’re still welcome that I caught these.”

“You caught this salmon?” You said, “I thought you only did catch and release?”

“I still do, for the most part, but this salmon was too good of an opportunity to pass up.” He explained. Tom was already boiling with embarrassment, and now he had jealousy bubbling over- of course this perfect fish was caught by the perfect outdoor man beside you.

“So, Tom, Harrison, we were talking about going for a run around the lake tomorrow morning. Want to come?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. How far?” Harrison replied, and Tom nodded in agreement.

“The loop’s about five miles.” Will answered.

“Are you going to run with us?” Tom asked you, knowing back home in Kingston you’d sometimes join Harrison on runs. Tom wasn’t the type to just go out for a casual run like his best friend was, but he wasn’t about to back down from this.

“Nah, you two can keep up with the cross country runners.” You joked, “I’d much rather save my energy for the hike.”

Once dinner ended and no one choked on any more fishbones, you all migrated to the couches. Much to Tom’s chagrin, you sat in the middle couch between Will and Rose, while Tom and Harrison sat on the couch opposite a very cuddled up Jane and Tyler. The fireplace in the corner crackled, keeping the room comfortably warm. When Rose suggested you all play charades, the entertainment for the evening was decided, especially considering the cabin had very weak cell-signal and no television.

“What are the teams?” You asked, sitting dead in the middle of everyone with three friends to your left and three to your right.

“Let’s do 3 against 4, so you choose who you wanna be with, Y/N.” Jane suggested as Rose stood up to get a boxed set of charade cards from the game cabinet near the kitchen. You looked between the two sets of friends. You wanted to lean towards Tom, Harrison, and Rose, because the two boys were incredible at charades, and Rose was your go-to partner for Password at least.

“Come on, you know you wanna be with us.” Will teased, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Just for that, nope.” You laughed and took his arm off you. You stood up from that couch and squeezed in between Tom and the arm. To make room for you and to mock Will, Tom casually put his arm on your shoulder and you made no effort to take it off.

Rose returned with the box of cards and the game began with you and Jane pantomiming first. The words ranged from silly ones like centipede to more inventive ones like lapdance; either way, you all were laughing and enjoying the evening. Tom was highly appreciative of the humor because more than once, you laughed so hard that you fell into him, clutching his knee or completely falling over into his lap. It wasn’t anything out of the usual for him to see you so effortlessly happy, but he enjoyed all the little touches.

“Okay, okay.” You breathed out, doing your best to compose yourself. You stood up from the couch with Tyler so that you two could read the answer and continue the round. Reading over the card, “Catch 22”, you began to think about what you could do to act out the card. As if it wasn’t impossible enough to describe it with words, you had to act it out. But then the lightbulb went off- you had a secret advantage and he was sitting right in front of you, as long as he could figure it out.

“Ready?” Tyler asked you nervously, and you nodded. Tyler started with the usual way of beginning: how many words and what it is. You immediately pointed at Harrison.

“Me?” Harrison spoke in confusion, and you nodded before pointing to your stomach, doing your best to act his death from the series.

“Catch 22?” Tom offered, and Harrison looked at him dumbfounded, still trying to connect how it was him as your main clue.

“Ah, thank god.” You smiled, cheering as he guessed it right. Tyler and the others sighed.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Jane questioned.

“Haz, here, was in the show.” Tom replied, proud of his friend. You were surprised by your college friends’ collective shock, but you were most intrigued by Rose’s reaction.

“Oh my god, I thought you looked familiar.” She said, impressed.

“Wait, you actually saw it?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah, I think I might have cried when you died.” She admitted, brushing a loose hair behind her ear, and that’s when it clicked for you- she was totally into Harrison.

“And you’re an actor too, Tom, right?” Will spoke up, casually taking a drink of his beer. You eyed him skeptically; he knew Tom was an actor. Back when you two were dating, you’d talk about your best friend’s accomplishments, so why was he now asking? Your only answer was it would clearly get a rise out of, at least, you, if not Tom as well.

“Yeah, only been in little indie movies. Nothing anyone’s heard of.” Tom played it off jokingly, causing you to smack him on the arm a little, your hand resting on his bicep.

“My mom loves that movie you did with Ewan McGregor.” Rose commented.

“Ah yeah,” Will laughed, “The one where you’re like 12.”

“I wasn’t 12, but thank you.” Tom replied sarcastically, and you could tell he was biting back a scoff.

“Well, we’ve all seen the Marvel movies so you can brag a little about those.” You teased, making him blush.

“I know I cried when everyone was getting dusted.” Jane stated in a way to poke fun at Rose’s previous words.

“Never saw them.” Will shrugged carelessly.

“Yes, you did.” You corrected him immediately, and you felt Tom tense a little under your touch. While Tom liked that you were being supportive about this, he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Will acknowledged Tom’s clenched jaw and decided to press it a bit further, “Babe, if you’re talking about Infinity War, then, no, I didn’t pay attention.” He chuckled, “Don’t you remember we were in the middle of something?”

Tom wondered, at first, what he meant exactly. You dropped your hand from Tom’s arm and covered your face in embarrassment, but before you could comment, Rose let out a whine, “Gross, I was right next to you two.”

“Not like you’ve never gotten it on in a movie theater.” Tyler joked.

“Can we please not talk about this?” You groaned, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Jane stated as she stood up with a yawn. You closed your door, escaping to the privacy of your room, not wanting to think about how your ex just told everyone about that night- in your defense, you’d already seen the movie before so you weren’t missing anything.

Tyler and Will followed after Jane, leaving Tom, Harrison and Rose as they cleaned up the few cards that were left out. Feeling the awkwardness radiating off of Tom, Rose delicately spoke up, “Will’s just being a dick.”

“It’s fine.” Tom reassured her.

“Did you really cry when I died?” Harrison asked her the question that’d been on his mind since the second she’d made the comment. They started talking about the show, and Tom took that as a sign to leave. He thought for a moment about knocking on your door and checking in on you, but then he realized it might be too uncomfortable for you to talk about. There were times, like tonight with charades, that Tom considered maybe you liked him back, based on all your little touches here and there, but then, with Will’s comments floating around his mind, his thoughts were plagued by the doom of the friendzone. Tom didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing that you and your annoying ex ‘got it on’ in the theater during his own movie- what if he was dying on screen but you were too enraptured in Will to cry like Rose had cried over Harrison dying?

Tom only had a few minutes to himself before Harrison came back into their shared room, asking him, “How’re you feeling about the run tomorrow?”

“It’s going to kill me.” Tom sighed, and Harrison shrugged before climbing into the top bunk.

“Should’ve been running with me.” He laughed, “It’s not even that far.”

“I haven’t run five straight miles since Jake nearly killed me at the gym.” He replied, tidying up his bag.

“Why are you cleaning?” Harrison asked, looking down at his friend. “Are you worried Y/N’s going to come into the room or something?”

“Shove off.” Tom grumbled. Harrison took off his sweaty socks that he’d neglected to remove before getting into his bed and threw them down at his friend. One missed Tom completely, and the other clung to his shoulder. “That’s fucking gross.”

“If you’re cleaning, then clean them up.” He snickered. Tom threw the sock back at his friend, but it missed and weakly fell to the ground. A knock came from the other side of the door, and Tom opened it, smiling when he saw it was you, his absolute favorite person on this godforsaken trip. While you looked rather cute in your casual summer pajamas, he frowned when he saw his sweatshirt in your hands.

“Are you returning it?” He asked, and you laughed.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You said quietly, hoping Harrison didn’t hear your words. You held it out to Tom, “I figured I can give it back to you for a time, and then steal it once it smells like you again.”

“Wait a second.” Tom took the sweatshirt from you and disappeared into the room, rummaging through his once neat backpack to grab out another sweatshirt. He handed it to you, “Maybe this could suffice for now?”

Smiling, you sniffed it a little before tugging it on, “Thanks. It’s so cold upstairs, I don’t know how I’d sleep without it.”

“You could always bring your own.” Harrison said from the top bunk. Tom turned and chucked the other sweatshirt at him. You rolled your eyes at his words.

“Watch it, Osterfield, or your mattress is going to end up in the middle of the lake with you still sleeping on it.” You playfully threatened.

“I’m quaking with fear.” He laughed, laying down on the bed out of sight.

“Well, I should go.” You told Tom, “Thank you for the sweatshirt. Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He smiled softly at you. As you walked away, he slowly closed the door, pleased with himself and his choice in sweatshirts. He turned to finish getting ready for bed, just in time for Harrison to throw the sweatshirt back at him.

“I will kick you out of this room.” Tom grumbled.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You didn’t sleep well that night. Even with Tom’s sweatshirt, your room was unbearably cold, and it didn’t help that Rose snored. With only a few hours of sleep under your belt, you woke up the next morning to the sun streaming in through the large window behind the bed and Rose already up and out of the room. You padded into the kitchen, making yourself some tea with the rustic teapot that was set out on the counter. Spotting Rose and Jane standing out on the balcony, you made your way outside.

“Good morning.” You said through a yawn, coming to stand beside Rose.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up.” Jane teased. You looked at your two friends quizzically, taking a sip of your steaming tea.

“You already missed part one of the gun show.” Rose joked, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the balcony, “They should be back any second.”

“Oh God.” You laughed, remembering the boys and their run this morning.

“I know I’m with Tyler, but damn, Y/N.” She teased, and Rose nudged you playfully. “Here they come.”

Seeing motion through the trees, you looked over at the runners. It was obvious they were racing the last bit of the run, considering how triumphant Harrison looked when he arrived first with Will right on his tail. And then came Tyler, and finally Tom. There was probably only a few seconds between their arrival, but it was still amusing to spy the looks on their faces. They were all shirtless and glistening in a layer of sweat, and they hadn’t noticed the three of you on the balcony at all- not that you were complaining. You’d rather not have them catch you all checking them out so unabashedly.

“Look at that. 24 abs right there.” Jane let out a small sigh. While her comment was for all four boys, her eyes stayed trained on Tyler. Rose, on the other hand, had her eyes on Harrison’s figure, which you noted to tease her about later. But you, you couldn’t help but check out Tom’s bare torso- there was a reason you didn’t watch either Spider-Man movie with him- you always ended up a little too focused on his shirtless scenes.

“Enjoying the show?” Tyler called up to the three of you, a cheeky smirk on his face, as they all made their way up to the cabin. You could’ve sworn you saw Tom blush a little when he met your gaze before Harrison playfully shoved his friend, making Tom lose focus on you and shove him right back.

“Boys.” Rose laughed quietly to you. You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss part two.”

The boys made their way into the kitchen, seeking out some water and gatorade as you and the girls went back inside to greet them. The sweet smell of salmon from last night was gone, overthrown by the ever lovely smell of sweaty men.

“It smells like a gym in here.” Rose gagged in disgust.

“I would’ve gone for sweaty ballsack, but yours is much nicer.” Jane laughed.

“Janie would know.” Will teased, clapping Tyler on the shoulder as he drank from his water, making the other choke a little.

“So how was the run?” You asked Tom as he and Harrison came over to you, Tom’s bottle of gatorade almost gone already. The other four got engrossed in their own conversation.

“Just a small workout, nothing too bad.” He replied, brushing it off.

“He was dying.” Harrison stated, making you laugh. “I told him he’s got to run with me more.”

“Well, you won, Haz, so congrats.” You replied.

“How did you know we were racing?” Tom asked. His ears turned pink from thinking that you knew he came in last.

“The four of you act like teenage boys; of course you’re going to make a race out of a casual run.” You teased.

“We should probably go stretch before our muscles tighten up again.” Harrison said, already backing up towards the stairs. Tom made his way to follow him, and you spoke up.

“I’ll come with.” You offered, setting your mug of tea on the counter. You followed them downstairs and out to the patio, feeling like you might as well spend some alone time with your two closest friends.

“You two think you can make it on the hike today?” You teased, already seeing Tom walk a little funny.

“Yeah, yeah, we got this.” He reassured you, sitting down on the solid ground to start stretching his legs. You started to stretch with them, and Harrison looked at you funny for it.

“Why are you stretching?” He asked with a laugh.

“It helps with flexibility.” You shrugged, switching legs as they did, all three of you mirroring the same poses. “How was the lake?”

“It was nice. We weren’t exactly looking at it though.” Tom replied with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, you were going so slow, I thought you were.” Harrison joked and Tom kicked his foot out, hitting Harrison in the leg.

“It’s shit like this that made me believe you were racing.” You laughed.

“I don’t do long distance running. I like focusing on my abs a lot more.” Tom defended himself. You flicked your eyes down to his abs, nodding a little, but Tom was so focused on his stretching that he had missed your small action, whereas Harrison fully caught it. He laughed, sending you a wink, and you flipped him off. Tom caught that exchange though, “Did I miss something?”

“Nope.” You replied quickly, only making Harrison laugh harder, “He’s just being a dumbass. Onto hamstrings.”

The three of you laid down to stretch your hamstrings, and you heard Tom let out a small groan from beside you. “I can’t do this. I fucking hate leg day.”

“Need help?” You offered. Before he could protest, you were already on your feet. He held his leg up as high as he could, and you pressed on his foot to stretch his hamstring even more.

“What if I need help too?” Harrison pouted, even though he was stretching his leg just fine.

“Sorry, Haz, it’s just you and your hand.” You joked, making Tom laugh.

“I see how it is. Ha ha, it’s me and my hand, and Tom and your hand, Y/N.” He sarcastically replied, as you dropped Tom’s leg and he bent his knee for you to lean on his shin. You helped him to deepen the stretch through his leg.

“Someone’s jealous.” Tom said, before grimacing a little.

“Was that too far?” You asked, loosening your hold on his leg, not wanting to overstretch his hamstring.

“A little.” He replied.

“God, Y/N don’t be so rough on him.” Harrison piped in, still having no issue stretching on his own.

“Haz, if you’re going to be a pouty baby about not having a stretching buddy, talk to Rose. She was totally checking you out earlier.” You stated, trying to change the conversation off of Harrison’s unnecessary innuendos. You let go of Tom’s leg and reached for his foot to stretch his other hamstring.

“Wait, really?” He asked, dropping his leg to peer at you with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah, why would I lie to you about that?” You laughed, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her read a book, so I think she was lying about Catch 22.”

Flustered, Wide eyed and blushing, Harrison mumbled something about grabbing a shower before bolting off. You exchanged a curious look with Tom, but he followed after his friend.

You made your way inside after them and went to fix yourself another cup of tea. When you saw Will alone in the kitchen, you momentarily considered changing your mind and going to your rook, but it was too late, as he had already seen you.

“Want a cup?” He asked, holding up the coffee pot after he finished pouring himself a cup.

“No thanks.” You replied and made your way to the kettle.

“Enjoy the show earlier? Tyler and I started this new training routine that’s supposed to help with bulking up.” Will said. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his words.

“And how’s that working out for you?” You asked, not even trying to hide your disinterest. You still hadn’t forgiven him for his immature comments last night. Plus, the more you saw Will interact with Tom, the more justified you felt with your annoyance.

Will stepped closer to you. Slowly, he took one of your hands in his and pressed it to his abs, and you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel every part of his toned stomach. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt like you were falling under his trance again. “There’s more where that came from. Why don’t you come by my room tonight?”

He dropped your hand, and you were pulled out of your foggy state. You stepped away, turning away from him to continue getting yourself some tea. You felt his body envelope yours from behind. His head rested on your shoulder and his hands smoothed over your waist. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmured, “I miss you.”

At his words, something inside of you snapped and you jolted away from his embrace, slapping his hands away. Firmly, you said, “I don’t miss you.”

Will left the room without another word, and you were left to ponder what the hell just happened as you stood alone in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you all left on the hike, trailing through the towering trees to make your way to a nearby peak. You all stopped a few times for water and some food, and to even just enjoy nature. Between Jane’s ornithology degree, Tyler’s botany background, and Will’s forestry knowledge, identifying the different birds, plants, and trees around you was relatively easy.

“Can you imagine if we studied something environmental too?” Rose joked, nudging you in the shoulder as Jane mindlessly went on about the bird that had flown past nearly ten minutes ago.

“God, it would never end.” You laughed.

“What did you study?” Harrison asked Rose, making you look at Tom and roll your eyes at your friends.

“I’m a nurse.” She replied, and the two got swept into their own conversation.

“You sore yet?” You asked Tom, poking him in the side as you all continued the hike uphill.

“Me? Sore? Never.” He laughed. He shook his head to try to hide the slight hurt from the question. First, you didn’t think he was outdoorsy enough and now you think he can’t handle doing some mileage. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh sure.” You smiled at him. Tyler pointed out a specific plant as you all passed it, talking about the intricate properties of the shrub.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused about nature.” Tom mumbled to you quietly. Since you two were far enough behind Tyler, Jane, and Will, they couldn’t hear his comment.

“Don’t worry. I have no clue what he’s talking about either.” You reassured him before letting out a small yawn.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” He asked, looking over at you in concern.

“Someone was snoring a bit too loud for me to sleep.” You said, loud enough for Rose to hear. She stopped and spun around to face you, face red in embarrassment.

“It’s a nasal condition! You know how I get when it’s cold!” She defended. As much as she tried to sound angry, she still had a small smile on her face.

“Love you, Rose.” You blew her a kiss, laughing at her reaction. She and Harrison turned back around and continued their conversation about who knows what.

“I think Harrison’s got a nasal condition too.” Tom whispered, making you stifle a laugh to not draw attention back to the two of you.

“Rose doesn’t even snore that loud.” You admitted quietly, “Even with your sweatshirt, I was still too cold to sleep.”

“I can give you another one when we get back. You can double up.” He offered, “But it was pretty cold last night.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably take you up on that.” You smiled softly at him. “You know, I’m really happy you came.”

“I’m happy I came, too. Thanks for inviting me.” He replied, and you nodded in response. Tom paused after a moment, stopping his tracks to look at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Wait, did you not expect me to come?”

You looked at him in confusion, before answering, “I mean I did, but-“

“But I’m not outdoorsy, so you didn’t think I’d actually be here.” Tom grumbled in agitation, beginning to walk again quickly to catch up to the group. You ran up after him.

“Is that what this is about?” You questioned, your voice unintentionally raised, “That I said you weren’t the camping type back home?”

Harrison and Rose turned to look at the two of you, and Tom just bit his tongue to keep from exploding about the sensitive subject. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he just felt so inadequate with Will going on and on about trees and shit.

“What is going on with you?” You questioned with a huff of frustration.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just keep going.” Tom stated, shaking his head.

“I’m not going one more step until you tell me what the hell is up.”

“What’s the hold up?” Will called back when he noticed the stop in your hike. Tom went to step forward to continue the journey, but missed his footing on a particularly slick patch of leaves.

A collective, concerned shout came from you and Harrison as Tom hit the ground. He groaned in pain, and Rose came to his side. All frustration at him slipped out of you as worry flooded your system.

“Tom, oh my god- are you okay?” You asked.

“I think I rolled my ankle.” Tom said, cradling his ankle in his lap.

Rose looked at it briefly, no noticeable swelling or bruising yet. “Can you stand on it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He replied before pushing himself to his feet. He bit back a grimace, standing on his ankle as normal, and you didn’t seem to be the only one to notice it. “Let’s finish the hike, yeah?”

“You’re not hiking on that.” Rose shook her head with a small laugh.

“I don’t want to hold you all back. I can manage it, really.”

“It’s fine. We’ll continue on. Y/N can lead you back.” Jane spoke up, a little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ll go with.” Harrison offered.

“As the house nurse, I feel obligated to walk back with him.” Rose added, and you caught the blush that touched her cheeks.

And just like that, it was settled. You, Rose, and Harrison would walk back with Tom, who was doing his best not to limp, which everyone saw through. Rose and Harrison made conversation the whole walk back, while you and Tom just stayed awkwardly silent. By the time you all made it back to the house, he still hadn’t spoken to you. You went to put away your hiking gear and found Tom a few minutes later, sitting on the porch as he looked at the forest before him, an ice pack on his elevated ankle to help with potential swelling.

“I meant what I said.” You spoke up quietly as you sat in the chair beside him. When he just continued to look straight ahead and not physically acknowledge your presence, you continued, “I am really happy that you’re here, Tom. I didn’t say that because I didn’t think you’d want to come. The only reason I wouldn’t expect you to come is because you’re always busy. I guess what I really meant was that I’m grateful you were able to make time for me this week, especially because I know the countless other, more fun things you could be doing right now. It really means a lot.”

After another brief silent moment passed between the two of you, he looked over at you with a small frown on his face. “Why would you think I wouldn’t make time for you?”

“Like I said, you’re busy. You do one movie after the other, and I feel like we hardly see each other anymore. It’s,” You trailed off, searching for the right word, “comforting that you’d want to spend your free time with me.”

“You’re my best friend. Of course, I’d want to spend time with you.”

You knew his words were sweet and that he meant every single one of them, but you still felt a small, subtle twist in your gut. Another unnatural silence fell between the two of you until Rose came outside like a true savior.

“We’re planning on making s’mores tonight, are you down?” She asked, a cheery smile on her face.

“I’m offended you’re even asking me that.” You stated, and she rolled her eyes at you. You turned to Tom, smiling, “You’re going to love them. Just don’t burn yourself.”

“Burn myself?” He looked at you as if you were crazy, making you laugh.

“Don’t scare him.” Rose teased, “Besides, my money’s on Harrison burning himself first.”

“I heard that!” He called from inside the cabin through the screen door.

Just as Rose was about to leave to go back inside, Tom spoke up, raising his hand a little, still confused, “How do you burn yourself on s’mores?”

Several hours later, he got his answer.

“Ow, fuck, shit, ow.” Harrison cursed, dropping his burnt marshmallow into the dirt.

“That’s how.” You laughed as Rose clinked her s’more against yours.

“How do you know when it’s ready?” Tom asked, eyeing the marshmallow at the end of his stick. He slowly rotated the stick in his hands just as you had told him to do.

“Golden brown are the best, but they’re tricky to make because you can burn them instantly, which is what Harrison did.” You teased your blond friend beside you before taking a bite of your perfect s’more and turning back to face Tom on your other side. “Burnt ones aren’t bad, they just have a more burnt flavor, obviously.”

“So is it ready yet?” He questioned, but he was looking at you not at his roasting marshmallow.

“No,” You giggled. You finished off your s’more with another bite and scooted closer to him on the log. You placed your hand on top of his on the stick, twisting it so that the marshmallow was a few inches above the flame instead of right by the firewood. “And you just keep rotating it. You can see there’s already a gold hue to it.”

You smiled, looking over at him to find him already gazing at you with a soft smile of his own playing on his lips. The light from the campfire made his brown eyes sparkle with specks of gold.

“It’s burning!” Jane exclaimed, and you quickly retracted the stick and marshmallow, blowing out the fire on the now burned marshmallow.

“Well, it’s golden on one side, but burnt marshmallows are an essential part of the s’mores making business.” You said as you passed the stick back to Tom. You gathered the two parts of a graham cracker as well as some Hershey’s chocolate and set it up for a s’more.

“I think I need help with this part.” Tom admitted with a chuckle.

“So you put the marshmallow here.” You pointed at the graham cracker topped with a piece of chocolate. He moved the stick to put the marshmallow in its proper position, and then you put the other half of the graham cracker on top. Grasping the two graham crackers with the marshmallow in the middle, you finished, “And now pull out.”

“Hah, pull out.” Tyler laughed at the innuendo through a face full of his double stacked s’mores. Tom did as told, his eyes lighting up in excitement when you presented him his very own s’more.

“Ta-da. It’s real rocket science, isn’t it?” You joked, and Harrison elbowed you, still grumpy that he had lost his first marshmallow and burnt his hand trying to catch it.

“Burnt and fallen marshmallows are just casualties of s’more making.” Rose said.

“S’mores have to be the thing I miss most about living here— the U.K. just doesn’t do camping quite as well.” You stated, shaking your head a little in disbelief.

“How could you miss s’mores more than us?” Will asked, a playfulness in his voice, but you could recognize the serious undertones of his words.

“I’d miss s’mores more than I’d miss you.” Rose teased, saving you from having to actually think of a response.

“Hand me a marshmallow. I’m ready to try again for a golden one.” Tom said to you, and you reached over into the marshmallow bag beside you, slipping him the soft treat.

“Good luck.” You encouraged him with a laugh.

Tom’s second attempt ended up burnt as well, and you gladly ate it while he made his third one. By the time it was golden brown and ready to be eaten, Jane, Tyler, and even Will had retired for the night.

“That tastes so much better not burnt to a crisp.” Tom said, impressed by his own marshmallow-roasting skills.

“Camping heaven.” You agreed, finishing off the s’more he’d burned earlier.

Rose stood up with a small sigh, stretching her arms. “I think I might head to bed.”

“Me too.” Harrison stated, getting up after her. Tom looked at him questioningly, and you bit your lip, giving Rose a teasing look. She rolled her eyes at you, smiling to herself as she turned to head towards the cabin.

Noticing how Harrison’s hand caught hers once they were a decent distance from the campfire, you called out to them, “Good night!”

“Night!” They chorused back.

“Haz and Rose seem to have hit it off.” Tom commented once they were inside. Your eyes drifted from the dying fire up to the starry sky overhead.

“Yeah, they really have.” You nodded, caught up focusing on the twinkling lights above you. Quietly, you admitted, “I’ll never get tired of looking at the stars.”

“I bet your neck will.” He joked, making you shake your head.

“They’re just so beautiful.” You mumbled.

“Really beautiful.” You heard Tom murmur under his breath. Your eyes flickered over to him, noticing how he was definitely staring at you and not the stars in the sky. When he turned to face the campfire, your eyes diverted back up to the stars, trying your best to suppress how fast your heart was racing.

“I used to know all of the constellations too. Will and I used to camp a lot, and I’d just study the stars until I fell asleep.” You confessed, attempting to strike up a conversation to keep you from your thoughts. When Tom said nothing in reply, a small sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes trailed back down to Tom beside you. Staring right into the dying campfire, he looked deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked him, nudging him a little with your shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” Tom shook his head, but his attempts to play off his thoughts didn’t work on you. After a moment, he spoke up, barely meeting your eyes as he did so, “Did you and Will really— you know— in my movie—“ he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. He was already apprehensive about the answer, and yet he couldn’t help himself from asking.

“In Infinity War?” You asked, laughing lightly at his question, or lack thereof. Looking up towards the sky again, you replied, “Unless you count the fastest handjob ever, no, we didn’t.”

Tom was silent, making you look back over at him. His shoulders were shaking as he bit his lip, doing his best to stifle his laughter.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. “It wasn’t like you were dying in the scene or anything. You weren’t even on the screen.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He insisted, before breaking into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it any longer. In that moment, you felt complete tranquility. Tom’s laughter broke through the silence of the atmosphere, making your heart flutter in happiness. His eyes were shut, and you could count every crinkle by his eyes. With the fire illuminating his features just right, he was positively glowing. If you wanted any moment to last forever, it was this one. Tom settled his laughter, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it’s just-” He paused, and his smile faltered momentarily, “It’s a relief.”

“A relief?” You repeated before you could help yourself, and Tom realized his words.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, thinking on his feet of an explanation, “It would’ve been really awkward if I was dying, and you and Will- yeah.” He stopped himself short, and a comfortable silence overcame the two of you.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked, not wanting the conversation to end. If it ended, then that meant the night was over and your precious alone time with Tom was over.

“It’s fine, now. Honestly, it didn’t hurt that much.” He replied with a bit of a nod. You watched as he sucked in a tight breath, “I’m sorry about what happened earlier on the hike. I got frustrated and a little jealous. I was so determined to prove that I could be like Will that I just ended up being a dick.”

His words took a moment to sink in, but you found a small smile breaking over your face as you understood the layers of their meaning. You reached out and touched his knee. Softly, you admitted, “You have no reason to be jealous over Will. I’d never want you to be like him. The main reason that I broke up with him was because, well, he’s not you.”

You could see Tom think about your words for a moment before, ever so slowly, he started to lean in. Tom’s lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours, tenderly moving in sync as you both caved into your suppressed feelings. With one hand cupping your cheek, Tom’s other hand moved to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You paid no mind to the uncomfortableness of your position on the log, too lost in the kiss to think straight. For the second time that night, you wished that this moment would last forever.

But it came to a quick, bittersweet end as Tom pulled away. His face stayed close to yours, his breath fanning over your face. A smile crossed his lips, “That took us way too long.”

“Way, way too long.” You agreed. He went to pull you in for another kiss, but the sudden cold of the dying fire pulled you two back to reality. Almost reluctantly, you said, “I guess we should probably head inside.”

It was far too cold for either of you to want to stay outside without the comforting heat. Gathering the food and putting out the last of the fire, you two walked back to the cabin, hand in hand.

“Thank you for the s’mores.” Tom said quietly to you, aware that most likely everyone in the cabin was sleeping. He placed the last couple bags of marshmallows and graham crackers on the kitchen counter (the chocolate was all eaten long ago), and you made a mental note to take care of it in the morning.

“Any time.” You joked softly. Tom leaned in to give you a quick, but just as sweet good night kiss.

As he made his way over to the stairs, he spoke up again, “Don’t get too cold tonight.”

“Good night, Tom.” You laughed lightly, turning towards your bedroom door.

“Good night, Y/N.”

With one last exchange of soft, sleepy smiles, you both turned to go your separate ways.

When you entered your quaint cabin room, you were met with Rose’s snores, a sharp contrast to your favorite sound that was Tom’s laughter from moments ago. You quietly maneuvered around the room, getting ready for bed. A smile ghosted your lips as you tugged on Tom’s hoodie. The familiar warmth and scent enveloping you comfortably.

You waited for sleep to overcome you on the cold bed; it felt like hours (when really, it was probably only ten minutes) before you finally decided to get up. With a small sigh, you shuffled out of the bed. Maybe the couch would give you more peace than your shared room.

As you made your way out of your room, you heard a door downstairs open. Curiously, you peeked down the staircase to see Tom emerging from the bathroom, in nothing but basketball shorts.

“What are you still doing up?” Tom asked you with his voice just above a whisper. You silently made your way down the stairs until you were in front of him.

“Couldn’t sleep. The room hasn’t gotten any warmer since last night.” You admitted, subconsciously crossing your arms.

“Come here.” Tom slowly uncrossed your arms, taking one of your hands loosely in his. He led you to his room. The door creaked open and shed some light into the dark bedroom. Wordlessly, he brought you over to his bed and dropped your hand to shuffle the blankets.

“What about Haz?” You whispered as Tom slipped into his bed, laying sideways and as close to the wall as possible to make some room for you.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured you. You slid into the bed, finding comfort under the blankets. You laid on your side facing Tom, and it was then that you realized just how small the twin bed was— you two were close enough to each other that you could feel his minty breath fan over your cheeks, which still made you nervous even though just ten minutes ago he’d kissed you.

“We’re never going to fall asleep like this.” You teased softly. Tom let out a quiet laugh, shuffling so he was flatter on his back, giving you room to lay in his arms. With your head pressed to his bare chest and his strong arms circling around you, you finally found warmth.

“You’re really warm.” You mumbled into his chest, snuggling into his embrace and letting your legs tangle comfortably with his. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had cuddled, but it was the first time the two of you have cuddled on a tiny bed and with him being shirtless.

“Makes me the best cuddling partner.” Tom mumbled, his chest shaking lightly underneath you as he chuckled. You hummed in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

“Do you two ever shut up?” You heard Harrison question from the bunk above you.

“Do you always have to ruin a perfectly good moment?” Tom replied, and you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I better not wake up in the middle of the night to noises.” He grumbled. The bed shuffled as he flipped over in his bed to get comfortable.

“Haz, that’s just you snoring.” You teased. He muttered something incoherent and you whispered to Tom, “Let’s wait until he starts snoring and then move his mattress to the lake.”

“Deal.”

Unfortunately for you but luckily for Harrison, you drifted off quickly, listening to the sound of Tom’s heart beating underneath you. You couldn’t help yourself; he made for the best pillow and the best heat source.

The next morning, you woke up with a start, hearing a loud thud from right beside you. Blearily, you leaned over the edge of the twin bed to find the source of the sound; when you saw a groaning, half-asleep Tom on the floor below you, a fit of laughter overcame you. The blankets were falling off the bed, all tangled up in his legs.

“Did you fall off the bed?” Harrison asked, even though all three of you already knew the answer, and you looked up to see him peering over the edge of the bunk bed.

“It’s not funny.” Tom muttered, frowning in faux annoyance at your continued laughter.

You held your hands out to him, offering to help him up even though you were in an impossible position to really help, still laying in the actual bed. Teasingly, you asked, “You got an owie?”

Chuckling, Tom reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you off the bed. You let out a yelp as you landed on top of him, in a similar position to just last night. Your legs subconsciously fell on either side of his to somewhat straddle him, and you lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands to look down at him properly, a smile etched on your face. The familiar intoxicating pull from last night returned; you almost forgot Harrison was in the room— key word, almost.

“Get up before I come down there and join in.”

And with that, you quickly got off of Tom, and he scrambled to his feet. As Harrison came down the bunk bed ladder, you and Tom put the blankets back onto the bottom bed. You pondered where last night left the two of you, and you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. You were clearly more than friends, but were you more than friends in front of the others?

“What’s for breakfast?” Harrison asked, cutting you off from your thoughts.

Over the course of the next few hours, you tried to somehow be alone with Tom to talk things over. It felt odd how things ended last night— not a bad odd, but odd nonetheless. Between the guys going for yet another run and you all spending time at the lake together, it just seemed like the opportunity would never come.

“God, I can’t believe it took you that long.” Rose teased, a giddy smile on her face as she cut off your recounting of last night. The boys were outside chopping some firewood while you, Rose, and Jane prepared dinner.

Jane winked at you jokingly, “What was it like?”

“What was what like? The kissing?” You asked, and she nodded.

“We want all the details!”

“In all honesty, it was the best kiss of my life.” You admitted, the butterflies you felt last night returning at just the thought.

As the three of you continued to talk, coo, and gossip about the four boys outside, they were hard at work. The late afternoon summer sun was bearing down on them, and they had stripped away their shirts earlier. Tom decided very early on that he didn’t like chopping wood, even if Harrison was somehow worse at it than him. While Tom and Harrison mainly kept to themselves, Will and Tyler had their own conversations going, despite the others clearly within earshot.

“You and Jane— I don’t know how you do it. One girl for all those years?” Will commented, and Tyler laughed with a shrug.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know what I would do without her. Plus, she’s the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Tyler said crassly, making his friend laugh.

“Mine was by far Y/N.” He stated, loudly, as if to ensure that Tom would hear it. At the sound of your name, Tom and Harrison both began to listen in on the conversation.

“It’s been years. Surely, there’s been someone else.”

“Nope.” Will protested, stopping his work to lean on the axe handle, “She was supposed to come over last night, but she must’ve gotten lost.” Tom couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at his words. Hearing the sound, Will turned to face Tom, “Got something to say?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Tom said, dropping the axe. Holding himself up straighter, he made his way closer to Will. Harrison hesitantly stepped closer to Tom as the brunet continued, “She didn’t get lost, she just had a better option.”

“Better option? You mean you?” He bit back. “Yesterday, you couldn’t even do a simple hike without hurting yourself, and you’re shit at chopping wood. You may think you’re hot shit in London, but this is my turf, movie star. I’m the one who gets the girl here.”

Harrison went to grab Tom’s balled fist, but he was too late as Tom had already swung, nailing the surprised Will right in the nose. Will responded quickly, throwing a punch back at Tom. Tyler and Harrison exchanged questioning looks, silently wondering if they should break up the fight or just let them go at it, but the pair decided the former was probably a better idea.

Aware of sudden commotion outside, you, Rose, and Jane all rushed to the balcony, wondering what could possibly be happening. The fight between Tom and Will was ending as Harrison and Tyler both successfully pulled their respective friends away from the other. Even from the distance, you could see the new bruises on Tom’s face and Will’s bloody nose; it was most likely broken, but you didn’t have it in you to care. The boys were unaware of you and the others, until Harrison looked up at the balcony. He gave you a sad smile, and Tom was next to look up. Ashamed, he didn’t dare to meet your eyes and, instead, grabbed his shirt from a nearby log and trudged his way down to the lake.

Your eyes flickered to Will, and a pit of anger flamed inside you. Just by the look on his face, you didn’t even need to question who was the antagonist. Not bothering to say a word to Rose or Jane, you marched downstairs and out to where Will, Tyler, and Harrison remained.

“What did you say to him?” You questioned Will angrily.

“Nothing he didn’t already know.” He replied nonchalantly.

“That’s bullshit, Will. This is all just bullshit. Every chance you get, you bring up something to antagonize Tom and embarrass me. And, every time you do that, you just remind me that you’re half the man Tom is.”

“You’re acting like I was the one to start the fight. News flash, princess, your man threw the first punch.” Will said, bitterly.

You stepped closer to him, your eyes hardening, and you swore you saw fear flicker in his eyes. “Believe me, if Tom hadn’t broken your nose already, I would break it myself.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and headed down to the lake. You knew they were all watching you-- Harrison, Tyler, and Will from the ground and Rose and Jane from the balcony. The sun was already starting to line the tops of the trees across the lake, and you felt your anger slowly dissipating as you saw Tom sitting on the dock. With his legs swinging off the edge, he looked at peace, but you knew him better than that; a storm was brewing in his head.

You didn’t say anything, and Tom made no effort to look away from his hands in his lap as you approached. Silently, you sat down right next to him at the end of the dock. Now that you were beside him, you noticed the bruise forming on his eyebrow and the cut on his lip. Will definitely got a few good shots at him, but you could tell Tom had gotten him worse. Your eyes trailed down to his hands; his knuckles were red in agony. Slowly, you reached your hand out to grab his injured one.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Tom mumbled, but you could tell he was holding back the truth. You tenderly placed a kiss on each of his red knuckles before intertwining your fingers.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” You asked him quietly, fearing if you spoke too loud the fragile moment would somehow be ruined.

“He was talking about you like you were just a good fuck and nothing more.” He replied, his voice just as soft as yours.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, your heart fluttering at the thought that he was defending you. You let go of his hand and turned to properly face him. The smile never left your face as you cupped his face in your hands. Confused, Tom asked through a laugh, “What are you doing?”

You kissed his bruised eyebrow before responding, “Well, I’ve got to kiss it better, don’t I?”

“I think you missed a spot then.” Tom pointed to his lips with a cheeky grin. You pressed a chaste kiss to the cut on his lip, before teasingly pulling away. You didn’t get far as Tom’s hand went to the back of your neck, bringing you in for another, deeper kiss. Caught up in the moment, you somehow forgot about his cut; it wasn’t until you nibbled on his bottom lip, accidentally catching the cut, that you remembered and Tom pulled away with a quiet groan.

“I’m sorry.” You said through a laugh, though you were still genuinely concerned about him. Your fingers traced lightly over the agitated cut.

“It’s okay.” He reassured you. One of his hands trailed up your arm to your own hand, and he brought it to his lips, kissing it just as gently as you had kissed his knuckles. “You’re cold.”

“Guess my personal heater isn’t working.” You teased.

“Come here.” Tom beckoned you closer to him. You slid into his side, snuggling into his warm embrace. With his arm hanging around your shoulders, you slipped your fingers through his, smiling at the ease of it all.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled, looking at the beauty of the lake and the sunset before you. It was like a scene from a painting, a scene you wanted to memorize forever.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you in closer to him. “We can stay here as long as you’d like, darling.”

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

539 notes · View notes

neonponders · 3 years

Photo

Here’s a prologue for my The Mummy AU!

This all started because of the moodboards above, created by @memes-saved-me and @harringrove000 . I just couldn’t help myself.

Here’s my original post about this au (it includes links to the moodboards) ~

And @hoegrove I know you wanted to see this so 🌹

Read on ao3 ~

• • • • • • •

The overhead bulbs and candlelight cast harsh shadows and warm light throughout the grimy bar. Everyone glistened with sweat from the desert heat. The night brought with it gentle, cool breezes over the Nile, but in this packed place, the occasional thworp of paper and silk fans being thrown open could be heard. Even the swish of luxurious ostrich feathers swayed to cool people off.

Steve moved his legs to cross his knees, the papyrus green trousers brushing against the military beige breeches of the man sitting opposite him at their small, round, gambling table. They had gathered quite an audience; the messy pile of money had long since included bets beyond Steve and this man’s wagers. Steve hadn’t caught his name, but he felt the heat of his body through their trouser fabrics, and more than once caught himself staring at how the light gleamed in that dark blond, honeyed hair.

“You trying to distract me?”

“No,” Steve smirked, “I’m trying to get comfortable.”

“Stressed?” the man crooned.

Steve removed his gaze from those pin-made waves of his hair. They had long since given up their shape to the day’s heat, but a tress outright curled over this handsome bastard’s forehead. Steve dared to think he looked better unkempt. “Not one bit. Play your cards. You’re dressed like you have somewhere to be.”

“I’m in no rush,” he replied lethargically, like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Steve let his eyes wander him a little more. “You sure? You look like a military man.”

“Honorably discharged.”

“Congratulations.”

Steve knew his eyes were blue, but in this lighting they looked like clear glass over onyx pupils when he tilted his head to look at Steve curiously. The latter retaliated before he even spoke. “Is that a strange thing to say?”

The blond shrugged with a gentle shake of his head as he plucked at his cards, rearranging them in his hand. “Only if you worship at the alter of hyper patriotism and military imperialism.”

Some chuckles sounded around them as harlots shared long, cigarette filter stems with their johns, and the barkeeps made glass clatter. Steve exhaled in a huff. “Whatever that means. I’d like to win, already. Play your cards.”

“You first, dear.”

He did, laying down his fan of cards underneath the row of cards from the dealer. The Madame of the place listened to their exchanges with amusement but kept it professional as she narrated, “Full house. Always something to brag about. And you, Mr. Hargrove?”

Hargrove, huh? Steve mused as he watched for any amount of discomfort on the man’s face. He didn’t get it.

“Straight flush,” the Madame said, aligning the winning cards with those from Steve’s and her own line. Steve had practically given him that win. And more of his father’s allowance than he would ever admit.

Hargrove moved a stack of chips to the Madame’s side of the table for a substantial tip, and then offered that hand to Steve. “Good game, Mr…?”

His eyes lolled under a slow blink before he accepted the hand. “Just Steve. It’s what I get for losing.”

“Let me top off your drink, at least, Steve.”

He took his loss with grace and stood to follow Hargrove to the bar. The crowd separated for him apart from a random slap on the back and long fingers stroking his hair in consolation. Hargrove reached the bar first, and watched all this while leaning back on his elbow. A light overhead moved across the exposed skin of his chest, just as honeyed as the rest of him, and the sparse hair there. Steve discretely lowered his gaze as if to not trip over the tiled stair raising the bar from the regular floor.

“Do you come here often?”

Steve snorted a quiet laugh and lifted his gaze. “You’ve already got me here. Ask me a real question.”

Hargrove smiled as the barkeep approached. “A bottle of red, please. Two glasses. It is a real question. People respond to you as if they know you here.”

Steve mirrored his stance and leaned into his elbow on the bar. “My sister and I come here sometimes. When we want to get away from…all of it.”

Hargrove hummed deep in his chest as the sound of a cork popping briefly diverted their attention. “Sister?”

“Stepsister, if you want to get specific, but she’s not here. You’ve only got little ol’ me.”

The barman poured two glasses without stopping, holding the vessels together with a practiced hand before he set them and the bottle on the bar. Hargrove paid him as he replied, “I have one of those. A stepsister, I mean. Although I don’t know how much it counts if you haven’t seen your so-called family in years.”

Steve reached for his wine and asked before he meant to, “Do you miss her?”

It was a bit too personal of a conversation between strangers. Hargrove’s pause made him quickly add, “You don’t have to answer that.”

“I’ll miss you, depending on how the rest of this night goes.”

Steve coughed on his wine. Hargrove chuckled as he offered a pale blue handkerchief to wipe his mouth. “Are you always this generous to people who’ve lost money to you?”

“Only the ones who are pretty enough to be a prize themselves.”

Steve’s eyes lolled in his head despite the rouge blooming in his cheeks and dusting across this throat. “If I’d known you were so used to winning I might’ve spent my money better.”

Hargrove’s eyes held steadily on him. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

* * *

Steve’s back pressed hard enough against the wall to break the kiss with a huff. He craned his face towards the sky as Hargrove made him shudder with soft lips and prickling stubble on his throat. They could hear the bar’s goings-on just on the other side of the exterior wall, but leaving the humid interior was refreshing on their wine-flushed skin. The darkness of the Cairo alleyway freed Hargrove’s hands to massage Steve’s backside.

As Steve caught his breath, he managed to slip his own hand between them, feeling the muscle of that chest for himself before he ducked to taste Hargrove’s skin. Salt and the neutral sweetness of a man’s skin. He liked the little sounds that Hargrove hummed while making a mess of Steve’s hair.

“I want this hair all over me. Better than silk.”

Steve lifted back up to frame Hargrove’s head in his hands, claiming and tasting and licking into his mouth. The way Hargrove kissed—like Steve was an oasis and honeycomb. Delicious and all his. It made Steve want to have him right here. Better than wine and cigars—intoxicating, having this kind of attention all to himself.

Hargrove hummed again, this time to get Steve’s attention. “Put your arms around me. I’ll do the rest.”

He didn’t fully understand until his trouser buttons slid free with ease. Steve openly moaned in the wake of Hargrove’s hand massaging his front, finding which direction his erection stood and easing it out into the night air. As his warm palm pumped him to aching readiness, Steve’s hands continued to wander Hargrove’s body. The man kissed him in a rush, almost brutally plundering his mouth before releasing to latch onto Steve’s collarbone.

One of Steve’s arms remained anchored around Hargrove’s shoulders. The rest of him rocked gently against the man intent to take him apart in a back alley—not that Steve minded one bit. His other hand pushed aside that half-open shirt to squeeze a nipple. Hargrove groaned deliciously and lifted his head to give Steve’s ear the same tantalizing attention—

Steve frowned a little at the hard and heavy rock of a thing knocking against his hand. It didn’t take much to pry the thing out of Hargrove’s jacket breast pocket. Steve didn’t have the time or the lighting to see what it really was. He had half a mind to hold onto it just out of petty spite. A token for taking so much out of his own wallet.

A reason for Hargrove to find him the next day.

Except a voice made Steve chirp, “Huh?”

And then Hargrove faced him with the same curiosity. They realized together that neither of them had spoken. Gas and oil lanterns were quickly moving through the alleyway, held aloft by harsh voices.

“Shit!” Steve hissed, rapidly putting himself back in his trousers. He yelped a choked sound as Hargrove yanked him out of the alley by his arm.

“We gotta go!”

“No shit!”

“Split up!”

“What?”

“GO.”

With that, Hargrove shoved him right into the vaporous air of a crowded hookah restaurant. Steve could only dodge and duck around rapidly standing patrons as the police flooded inside. The kitchen staff only reacted after he’d already dashed through the room, and by then, the police were too held up to catch up with him. Steve didn’t stop running. He heard yelling and whistles in the streets behind him, but he kept going—Hargrove’s strange stone clutched tight in his hand.

Only once he’d finished a very round-about path back to his lodgings, did he sneak quietly past his sister’s room and light a lamp to see his prize. The octagonal…thing…fit well in his palm. On one face, jagged lines had been finely carved, but all around its edges were familiar hieroglyphics.

“Oh. What the hell—better yet, what is a handsome American in Egypt doing with you in his pocket?”

Steve went over to his writing desk to find his glasses in a drawer. He popped them on and recognized a cartouche when he saw one. “Seti. Pharaoh Seti, huh? Well, Robin’s going to be all over this when she sees it.”

A shrill whistle outside startled him enough to drop it heavily on his floor. The whistle sounded far away, but he remained very still in case the wrath of a woman awoken before dawn barged into his room.

If Robin woke up, Steve remained blissfully unaware. He quickly undressed, washed as much of himself as he was able with the washbasin, and collapsed onto the bed. With Hargrove’s fancy artifact on his bedside table, Steve let the memory of sharp beard stubble and firm hands guide his own down to his cock. He got himself back to standing and finished what Hargrove started quickly.

But it was soft lips, open arms, and steady eyes that eased Steve to longing sleep. A slumber so deep that had his stepsister threw a pillow at him the next morning for oversleeping on her way to work at the National Library.

#harringrove #here we go again #the mummy!au #neonponders #pondermoniums #1920s!au #fic rec #updates will be hella slow

85 notes · View notes

alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Sunday in the Kitchen with Frederick

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1110

For: covers the baker square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo

TW: none

Author's Note: This is set in the Cat Daddy Frederick verse, but takes place two months after "Almost Perfect", so Buttercup is not in the picture yet. I wanted to jump back in the timeline again and explore earlier moments in their relationship. So, you're all getting some cute baking fluff.

Tags: @madamsnape921 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz

Frederick entered his home, cane in one hand, shopping bag in the other. He inhaled as he put the bag down and removed his jacket. The scent of warm apples and pumpkin were coming from the kitchen. His ear caught the sound of music; was that “The Time Warp”? He chuckled to himself, and headed for the kitchen, shopping bag in hand.

You were swaying to the music as you finished peeling apples and dropping them into the sauce pot on the stove. Frederick could have sworn it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. You’d been together for two months, but you had already insinuated yourself into his life like you had always been there. Whenever you were there, the house didn’t feel cold and empty like it usually did. When you asked if you could decorate for fall, Frederick has found it impossible to say no. You had quickly filled the house with fairy lights, scented candles, garlands of silk leaves, pumpkins of various sizes and colors; and that included the kitchen. Fairy lights were hung around the ceiling with the leaf garlands woven into them. It gave the kitchen a warm and cozy glow, and to Frederick, you looked like an angel, standing in the middle of it all, apron, and oven mitts on, pulling a loaf of pumpkin bread out of the oven. You placed it on a pot warmer to cool and smiled when you turned and saw your boyfriend standing there.

“Frederick! You’re home!” You took off your oven mitts and made a beeline for him, throwing your arms around his neck and placing a welcoming kiss on his lips.

“I could most certainly get used to that kind of greeting,” he smirked, and held up the bag. “Your emergency supplies, my love.”

��Thank you, Frederick,” you said, taking the bag from him. “The store wasn’t too busy, was it?”

“Surprisingly no; the young lady at the checkout said it’s always slower when the Ravens are playing. All the regulars are either at the game or are at home watching it on TV.”

“Sounds like my hometown; well, I appreciate you running out anyway. If I had taken better inventory of the ingredients, you wouldn’t have had to.”

“It was no trouble, my dear. I took the liberty of picking up a few extra things, as I saw they were on sale.”

“Thank you, Frederick, that was very thoughtful of you.” You put the bag on the counter and started removing its contents. The eggs and butter that you had run out of were there, along with extra sugar, flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, vanilla extract, and pumpkin puree. You smiled at that. “I see my pumpkin bread is a winner with you.”

“It is absolutely delightful and puts Starbucks to shame.” He looked over the countertop that covered with bowls, measuring tools, and ingredients. “Is there anything that I can help with?”

You thought for a moment. “Would you mind mixing the dry ingredients for the muffin batter?”

“Not at all, my love. How do I go about doing that?”

“Just follow the recipe, it’s easy,” you tried to reassure him, handing him an extra apron. “Here, I’ll help get you started.” You grabbed a bowl and a mixing spoon and placed them on the counter in front of him. You then moved all the dry ingredients to the same area, along with the necessary measuring cups, and the book stand that was holding up your 3-ring binder where you kept your recipes. You double checked the measurement for the sugar, filled the proper measuring cup, and dumped it into the bowl. “It’s just like high school chemistry, follow the recipe step-by-step, and you should get the desired outcome.”

“And if I screw up there’s no chance of me blowing up the kitchen?”

“None whatsoever, and there’s no dangerous chemicals here. And no one is grading you, so if you do make a mistake, it’s not a big deal. With cooking and baking, you learn by doing. I have faith in you, Frederick, you can do this.”

Frederick nodded and got to work while you went to check on the apples boiling on the stove. He carefully measured and mixed the dry ingredients as you instructed and began stirring them together. Hmm…perhaps this baking thing isn’t so hard, he thought to himself. That was until he stirred a little too vigorously and knocked some of the unmixed flour out of the bowl and onto to himself. He paused his motions and looked down at himself. Some of it was on the apron, some of it was on his shirt, and he could feel some of it sticking to the lower portion of his face.

“Umm…Y/N?”

You stopped what you were doing and turned to him. You put a hand over your mouth, but there was no stopping the giggles that erupted from your lips. Frederick was covered in flour and looked like a sad puppy that was anticipating being yelled at.

“Oh, Frederick, you’re adorable!” You grabbed a wet washcloth and started gently wiping the flour off his face. “Don’t worry, it’s fine, I get flour on myself all the time.”

“But the mess—”

“Don’t worry about the mess,” you said softly, putting a finger to his lips. “We can clean it up, or…” an idea suddenly popped into your head, “make a bigger one.”

You reached in the nearby flour bag and grabbed some with your fingertips.

“What are you—” Frederick was once again cut off, but this time by additional flour landing directly on his face. At first, he was taken by surprise, but then he saw the devilish look in your eyes, and a sly grin formed on his lips. “Hmm… you do know that two can play at that game, right?”

“Do your worst.”

Frederick grabbed handful of flour and launched it at your face. You responded in kind, and you both carried on like that for a few minutes, laughing like school children, until you both looked like kitchen ghosts, and the floor was becoming slippery.

“Okay, Frederick,” you held up your hands. “I surrender.”

Frederick took the opportunity to grab you around the waist and pull you close, placing a passionate kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too Frederick. See? Baking is fun!”

“I couldn’t agree more, my love.” He then glanced around at the kitchen. “I supposed we’re going to have to clean this up, now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but shower first? We can share the hot water…”

“Sounds like a perfect way to spend an afternoon, my love.”

#adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo #frederick chilton #frederick chilton x reader #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #fan fiction #my writing

89 notes · View notes

supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years

Text

There can only be one!

Pairings: Frankie Morales x reader x Marcus Pike

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, serial killer, murder, gore, violence, violence against women, possessiveness.

Summary: Frankie loves the feel of a women, writhing beneath him or grinding on top of him, he also loves to feel her blood drip down his fingers, to see the life leave her eyes. It’s an addiction, and now so are YOU!

A/N: this is a little something for Halloween that myself and @anaaaispunk are working on together. Hope you enjoy! Moodboard made by the lovely @anaaaispunk 😘

Marcus’s side

{Comments and reblogs really appreciated}

Frankie could see the life leave her eyes as his hands pulled tighter on the rope that was wrapped around her neck. The blood dripped from her open wound, pooling on the floor. He’d prepared this time, laying plastic sheets along the ground, easier to clean up the mess. No mistakes, the perfect kill. His mind drifts to the first time he did it, pretty blonde thing, all flirty with him at the bar, easy prey. She came with him willingly hoping to spend the night between his bed sheets. It had been an accident really, he was into rougher sex and when she asked him to grab her around the neck, tightly, he did. He didn’t mean to kill her, but when he did, a strange feeling washed over him, it was euphoric. He begins to clean up and then disposes of the body.

He’s meeting the guys tonight, something they do every Friday. He enjoys time with his friends but it’s also how he chooses the next victim. Tonight as he scans the bar, no one stands out, catches his eye until you walk in. You’re clearly here on a date and there’s an air of confidence about you that has him rock hard. You both make your way over to the bar, your dates hand resting on your lower back. This dude is marking his territory! The dress you're wearing clings to your body perfectly, extenuating all your curves. Your hair cascades down your back and all he wants to do is bury his nose in it and smell you. Smell your sweet shampoo, the body wash you use, the fear you feel as he runs his knife down your body. He wants to bury himself within you before stealing your last breath. Feel you clamp around him as the light leaves your eyes. His thoughts are disrupted by the calling of his name.

“Frankie, fish, Jesus man get a grip.”

“What? Sorry I got distracted.”

“Clearly! We were saying how about we go up to the cabin for the long weekend? Invite some girls, have a party. What do you say?”

“Can’t sorry. I’ve been doing it up, I’m not finished yet.”

“Oh you never said, we could have helped.”

“Thanks Benny but you know me, I like to do things myself.”

Conversation drifted off to some women Santi was trying to hook up with. Frankie doesn’t really know, doesn’t care. All he cares about is you. His eyes drift to you again and he can see the way you're playing with your hair, flirting with that schmuck. He imagines how you would look spread out on his bed, naked and chained. At his mercy. He thinks about all the fun he would have. It wouldn’t be quick, no. He would drag this one out, have his fun.

“Excuse me, what’s your problem?”

Frankie is startled, he had been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice you approaching him. You had clearly caught him staring and were furious.

“Sorry I..”

“You’ve been staring at me since I walked in. Is there something you want to say? Because you're kinda creeping me out.”

“I’m sorry I just….I’ve just never seen anyone as beautiful as you. You're gorgeous.” Frankie’s face is heating up and he can feel the guys staring at his boldness.

“Oh! Well thank you, I…”

“Get a drink with me!”

“I can’t, I have a date.” Frankie tilts his head to the side giving him a clear view of the guy you're with. He huffs out a breath and looks back to you. “Not much of one. Tell him you got a better offer.”

You look at him stunned by his bluntness. You would normally never let a man speak to you like this, but there is something about him, something mysterious, something dark. Whatever it is behind those deep brown eyes, it’s turning you on. You don’t say a word as you walk back to your date, the guys following you with their eyes. Frankies gaze follows you as both leave the bar. Your date, the fucker had the nerve to wink at him as if he had somehow won. Oh, game on my friend! Game on!

Tagging:

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @kirsteng42 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @jediknight123 @Hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @the-mandalorian-066 @spanishmossmagnolia @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @she-devil-jones @heartofjakku @tintinn16 @amneris21 @drinkingwhileblogging @evyiione @outlawedmando @goddessofsprings @avengers-fixation @mylovelycomandante @pastatomata @pjkimrn @1#FreakShow @maryfanson

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader

89 notes · View notes

nashibirne · 3 years

Text

Desperado - 5

Well...here we are, the final act, the last chapter of Desperado. It took me a while to write it but I think I managed to give August and Helen the happy ending they deserve.

The chapter is a little longer than the previous ones, I hope you don't mind and I really hope you're going to like the smutty parts. I tried kind of a different approach to the sex scenes this time, giving them a less explicit but more subtle touch, hoping to make the scenes more intimate and erotic. So I hope and pray it works! Let me know what you think, I'm grateful for every single comment/reblog/like 💜

*****

Pairing: August Walker x ofc (Helen Nichols)

Words: ~ 5k

Summary: August has survived the fight with Ethan Hunt and the fall from the cliff. A few lucky coincidences saved his life and he ends up with a woman that saves him and gives him shelter in her little hermit hut. He is at a turning point in his life. What is he going to do?

Previous parts: Nashi's Masterlist

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), deep throat, male masturbation, angst

UNBETA'ED! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

Credits: I don’t own August Walker and anything related to MI:Fallout. Pics for the moodboard from pinterest, face claim Helen: Rooney Mara

So... hop on and enjoy the ride...

********

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?

Come down from your fences, open the gate

It may be rainin' but there's a rainbow above you

You better let somebody love you

(Let somebody love you)

You better let somebody love you before it's too late

From Desperado by The Eagles, Lyrics: Don Henley, Glenn Frey

~~~~~~~~

Without Helen the hut felt strangely empty and cold. The silence that lingered in the rooms was deafening, the fading hints of her delicate, sweet scent, that was such a stark contrast to her tough and strong personality, still summoned up memories of times when he hadn't felt numb and lonely. It was hard to believe that she had left only three days ago. To August it felt like an eternity, endless hours of torturing his brain with questions he couldn't answer, with regret, with self-doubt, sadness, anger and fear.

In the mornings, when the sun was rising above the mountains, tickling his face, covering his body with a blanket made of warmth and brightness, he was able to find fresh hope, to believe that she would come back and forgive him, to imagine that they could be together, that she felt for him too but this hope soon melted like an ice cube in the sun when he remembered what he actually asked from her. He was a terrorist, he had planned to destroy her home and everything that was important to her. He was officially declared dead. He was deformed, inside and out. He was a walking mess and he meant nothing but trouble. How would she ever even consider to be with him, to return his feelings and to accept his past?

August took a deep breath and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. He was lying on the bed -her bed- fully dressed, smelling his own stink. He hadn't had a shower in three days, he had hardly eaten or slept, he hadn't really done anything but lying around, brooding, paralyzed by the feeling of being powerless, helpless and lost, drowning in self-pity. He was a wretched moping whiner, pathetic and sad, a disgrace to himself. He got up with a jolt, shaking his head. That wasn't him, August Walker wasn't a sissy and he was sure Helen would hate to see him like that. He undressed in a hurry, throwing his clothes across the room, suddenly disgusted by himself.

He let out a contented sigh when he was finally standing in the shower a few minutes later, enjoying the healing power of the steaming hot water, running over his head, cleansing his body and his mind at the same time. Spreading soap all over his body, his hands were running over his skin, making him think of the many times Helen's fingers had touched him. When he reached his dick, realizing it was hard just from the memory of loving her, he let out a soft moan. He grabbed his length and gave it a few pumps. It felt so good. He leaned back, his head resting against the wooden wall, eyes closed, lips parted, his tongue darting out to meet Helen's in his thoughts. The movie playing in his head was a mixture of experience and fantasy, reminiscence and wishful thinking but the way he touched himself was very real, arousal flooding his body, turning it from completely numb to sensitive and tingling. His strokes were strong, slow and intense, his fingers pinching his nipples adding a little dose of sweet pain that soon brought him close to the edge. He picked up speed, jerking off to pictures of her that appeared behind closed eyelids. Images of her sucking him off, of him fucking her from behind, of them making sweet love. He came with a muffled grunt, out of breath, his heart beating against his ribcage but feeling relaxed and alive for the first time in days.

He stepped out of the tub, and rubbed his body with one of the towels that were so rough because Helen always dried them outside and of course she never used fabric softener but they still felt good and comforting on his wet skin. Maybe because roughness was something he was used to or maybe because they reminded him of her, being the perfect metaphor for this woman who was so raw but soothing herself. This woman he missed so much, the woman he loved so awfully.

No, he told himself, not again. No more moping. He managed to stop the carousel in his head before it picked up speed and dressed himself in the black bathrobe Helen had bought for him together with some underwear, jeans, shirts and hoodies a week ago when she went to Srinagar for another shopping spree. He made himself a coffee and a sandwich before going outside, sitting on the porch in the wicker chair with the soft, colorful seat cushion, enjoying the view over the beautiful scenery, the mountains, the woods and the bright blue sky. In that peaceful moment he knew he had to make plans. Plans for his future, with or without Helen. He had to move on.

She came back the next day after breakfast. August was sitting at the kitchen table, surfing the internet to catch up with the latest news when he heard her car. His heart started to race immediately, threatening to jump out of his chest with excitement and fear. He had waited for this moment almost as much as he had dreaded it and now it was there, he would face her and the decision she'd hopefully made. August took a deep breath and got up from his chair when the front door slowly opened.

Helen did the same before she entered the hut. She inhaled deeply, trying to fight her jitters by controlling her breath, the turmoil within stronger than she'd expected, now that she was about to see him again. She wanted to, because she was full of yearning and desire, she had to, because there were still so many unanswered questions, she hesitated to, because she was scared of his answers. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she stepped into the room.

August was standing in the kitchen, staring at her and she was a little shocked how miserable he looked. It was obvious that he hadn't slept much, the undereye circles giving it away, he was pale and he had clearly lost weight. His expression was unreadable, his face blank but there was a sadness in his eyes that broke her heart. She had to fight the urgent need to embrace him, to give him a tight hug and a comforting kiss, instead she gave him a little smile, dropping her bag on the floor.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi," August answered, his voice hoarse, looking at her expectantly.

Helen didn't know how to begin the conversation, there was no room for small talk or any kind of superficial babbling, so she cut to the chase right away.

"Did you mean what you said? Before I left?"

He cocked his head, forehead creased, his glance fixed on her face. He nodded slowly, his lips curling up into a hint of a smile.

"Yes, I did. Every single word, Helen."

"John Lark is dead?"

Another nod.

"Died in your arms when you saved August Walker."

Helen pressed her lips together before opening her mouth to ask the next question.

"You're in love with me? Truly?" She made a few steps towards him, closing the gap between them.

"I love you. Truly." August looked her straight in the eyes but he didn't dare to touch her although he wanted nothing more. She looked so delicate, her skin so pale, like china... fragile and precious.

Helen on the other hand had no fear of contact. She tugged at the belt of his bathrobe and when it fell open, exposing his body, she placed her hands on his naked chest, stepping closer, close enough for him to feel her. With a sigh she rested her head against him, inhaling his scent, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Show me," she whispered softly and she lifted her head to look at him.

"I'll make you feel it." August's answer was a whisper too but his kiss was saying loud and clear how he felt and how much he cared about her. They made love this morning like never before, it was slow, tender, sensual…they took their time for an extended foreplay that reconnected them emotionally before they united their bodies. They weren't chasing orgasms, it wasn't animalistic or rough. They allowed themselves to discover each other on a deeper level, to drown in each other's eyes, to find the answers to unspoken questions in the feeling of intimacy. They shared uncountable deep kisses, their bodies moving in an erotic and lustful rhythm till nothing was left unsaid. When Helen finally reached the most intense orgasm of her life, wrapped up in August's arms, feeling his trembling body so close to her racing heart, hearing him fall apart when he came too, she was so overwhelmed by her feelings that she couldn't help but cry. August didn't have to ask why, the same emotions that flooded her, filled him too. Relief, togetherness, closeness, satisfaction, relaxation, trust and deep love.

When August rolled off Helen he somehow expected her to get up immediately like she used to do but to his big relief she stayed right beside him, her head resting on his chest, her arm wrapped around him, her breath going slow and steady. He thought she'd dozed off but after a while Helen started to play with his body hair before speaking to him softly.

"I'm sorry it took me so long, that I kept you waiting for four days, but it was just so much to process."

"Don't apologize, princess. I know I gave you a lot to think about." He pressed a kiss on her hair.

"Yes, but I'm glad you did, that you were so honest with me."

"And you are sure about this? About us?"

Helen shifted position to look at him, supporting herself on her elbows.

"I'm sure that I love you, August. I trust you. I want to be with you."

"I'm a lot, Henny. A nightmare sometimes…" August gave her a smile but his worries were clearly visible in his eyes, the fear of losing her, of not being able to be the man she deserved.

"I know you're a lot but I guess the last months have proven that I know how to handle you. The weeks with you were no nightmare, not at all, not to me…"

"No, they weren't," August said with a tender smile, pulling her close. He kissed her gently before he nestled his nose on the crook of her neck. "The last weeks have been the best of my life, Henny. I will forever be grateful that Hunt threw me down that rock and right into your arms."

Helen practically swooned with his whispered words, feeling exactly the same. They shared another loving kiss before falling asleep cuddled up to each other.

The next few months were filled with sex, love and harmony. Helen and August talked a lot and with every conversation they got to know each other better, learning where the other was coming from, falling even deeper in love. There was only one topic that was the source for intense discussions. Helen had told Naseer about August.

"I had to, Augie. I had to get it off my chest and I needed to hear his advice."

"But he knows the FBI is looking for me. What if he calls the agent that visited him? You're putting my life at risk." August was really worried.

"He wouldn't. He promised to keep quiet and he doesn't know what you had planned. Just that you're a CIA agent who wants to quit and who wants the FBI to keep thinking he's dead," Helen explained.

"And he accepts this just like that? Without questioning my motives?"

"He trusts me. Besides that, he isn't keen on getting involved in any kind of investigation himself."

"Why's that?" August gave her a curious look and a frown.

"Let's just say he appeared on the radar of the authorities unwillingly when he went to college in Boston and made some extra money with his extraordinary IT skills."

"He's a hacker?"

Helen grinned with a shrug. "Not anymore. He's an upright farmer and family man nowadays, but he got into serious trouble back then. That's the reason he decided to leave the US and return to Kashmir before they were able to arrest him. He managed to disappear from their radar just in time. So he isn't keen on reappearing. He just let that FBI guy into his house because curiosity got the better of him and he needed to know if his investigations had anything to do with him."

"I see. It's still a risk, Henny."

"It's not. You'd understand if you knew him. Maybe it's time to invite him over for dinner."

August wasn't really happy with the prospect of meeting the guy, of spending a whole evening with him, but Helen insisted on it and so the two men met. To August's big surprise Helen was right. Naseer really seemed to be trustworthy. Moreover he was a great guy, friendly, funny and simply very nice and after that night August knew he was an ally, not an enemy. He even liked visiting him on his farm once a week with Helen to buy some vegetables, eggs, milk, cheese and bread. His wife was a friendly, very witty and confident woman that liked to tease her jealous husband by flirting with the handsome American a little and their three little girls were adorable.

So the weeks went by and everything could have been perfect but in the back of their minds Helen and August knew that there were some facts and problems they wouldn't be able to deny forever.

August was forced to finally mention it almost 6 months after the death of John Lark and the redemption of August Walker, when Helen started to notice that something was weighing on his mind. They were having dinner, being in a good mood after a lazy Sunday spent in bed, filled with a good amount of orgasms and some old movies from Helen's DVD collection. Everything was fine but she noticed August was quiet, his thoughts far away from her, his body language making him appear tense.

"What's up, boss?"

August lifted his head to look at her with a grin. That nickname always made him smile. He knew he was a bossy guy and Helen hated to be bossed around but she accepted his attitude as a fixed part of his personality and that she even used it as a pet name pleased him. It was one of her ways to express her love for him. She wasn't the kind of woman who talked about her feelings much, she showed them rather than putting them into words and this way of addressing him was a good example of her unique displays of affection.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Something's bothering you." Helen cocked her head, giving him a searching look.

"Henny, let's not do this now. It has been such a nice day."

"Do what?"

August let out a sigh before he got up to clear the table, avoiding her gaze. "Turning over problems…"

"Do we have problems?" She joined him at the kitchen sink where he started to do the dishes and embraced him from behind. August turned around and hugged her tightly, resting his chin on her head.

"We don't, I do," he said softly. "I'm going to leave, princess. I have to." Helen freed herself from his arms, staring at him flabbergasted.

"What? Why?"

"Because I finally have to clean up the mess I've made."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes flickering with anger and fear.

"Oh, Henny…," August cupped her face and kissed her tenderly, "I wish I knew exactly what it means. All I know is we can't go on like this. I can't hide here with you forever."

Her face softened immediately. "Why not? I like it like that."

"So do I, but we have to think about the future. Our future, Helen. I mean, I love living this hermit life but someday we might want to do what couples usually do. Like going on holidays, visiting your family in Maine or just spending the day in Srinagar without fearing someone could recognize me." August took her hands in his, looking at them. "I have to get my life back, Henny. My identity."

"But how? You're officially dead. If they realize you're alive they will hunt you, you're gonna end up in prison or worse." The panic in her voice made August's heart clench. He knew she was right but there was no alternative.

"I know, believe me," he smiled at her to calm her down, "but there's no other solution. I've thought about it a lot lately and it's impossible to hide here for the rest of my life. I have to do something."

"So you're just going to leave me and turn yourself in? Just like that?"

"I still have a lot of connections. I still have allies plus I know many official secrets, damn...I am an official secret myself. I'm willing to trade, to negotiate and I'm sure so are they. They don't have much of a choice. The things I'm able to reveal are too delicate for them to risk anything. I'll find a way…"

Helen looked at him, nodding slowly.

"Yes, you will. Just come back, okay?"

"Promised."

"When will you leave?"

"In a few days. I need to prepare some things. With your help, of course." His statement sounded more like a question and his eyes were showing that his heart was heavy.

"Anything, August. What can I do?"

Three days later all preparations were done. August was crossing off bullet points on a list he had written while Helen stuffed the corresponding items into a backpack.

"Burner phones?" August asked, lifting his head.

"Three," Helen answered, pointing at the cells that were lying on the table before adding them to his luggage. She had bought most of the stuff in Srinagar, feeling like a spy herself. He had given her exact instructions to make sure nobody would remember her or what she bought or where she came from or where she was going. The phones were the last point on the list and after closing the backpack and putting it aside, Helen sat down with a soft sigh. She reached into her pocket and fished out a bundle of money, handing it over to August who took it reluctantly, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

"I'll pay you back every single cent," he said softly.

"Of course. Don't worry about the money, boss. It's really no big deal."

Helen took his hand and squeezed it, giving him a reassuring smile. "So what are we gonna do on our last night together?"

"It's not gonna be our last night, Henny."

"Well...the last for a while," she shrugged.

"Yeah." August looked at her with a frown. She had been tense all day and he knew she was trying to hide her sadness and her anxiety. She hated the thought of placing an extra burden on him by making their farewell even harder by showing her emotions, but in fact her aloofness made it extremely hard for him to say goodbye. He needed her open tonight, emotional, warm.

"Why don't we watch the fishman movie again?"

"The Shape Of Water?" Helen seemed to be surprised by his idea.

"Yeah, why not. We both love it and it's our movie somehow, right?" August winked at her.

"Right," Helen agreed with a loving smile, "let's do it, my beautiful monster."

They watched the movie cuddled up to each other in bed, their connection more intimate and deeper than ever. Afterwards they didn't speak a single word, they just slowly undressed each other to make love one last time before the new day arose.

August wanted to make this one special. He asked her not to touch him till he told her so and she respected his wish, lying on her back, eyes closed, just enjoying the touch of his fingertips, his sensual kisses on her skin, on her mouth, on her pussy. She desperately tried to fix every second in her memory so she'd have something to live off when he was gone. She made a mental map of the trace his tongue drew on her body. She locked the recollection of his soft lips on her clit away in her mind. She preserved the sensation of the orgasm that swept her away when he ate her out in a jar and stored it in her soul. She captured the way he laced his fingers with hers when she came in a painting her brain created with all the different shades and colors of their love and hung it up in her heart.

When she was finally allowed to touch him, she gave him something to remember in return. She gave him all of her. All of her admiration, when she explored his body with her hands, touching every inch, not leaving out the tiniest spot, caressing him with a sweet tenderness that she had never shown him before. All of her devotion when she gave him oral pleasure, submitting herself completely to him when she encouraged him to deep throat her slowly. All of her passion, when she was on top of him, riding him without restraint, going completely feral and wild, chasing her next climax. All of her trust, when she asked him to fuck her ass, giving him the honor of being the first man to ever do this. All of her love when she held him tight, kissing him slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, taking his cock as deep as possible when he loved her missionary style for the final act until he came, moaning her name into her ear, spilling his cum into her pussy.

*****

Three months later

August Walker was dead. Officially and irretrievably deceased and he liked it that way. Sure, with burying his original identity he had lost his past, his roots, the remains of what he used to call family, but cutting off all ties also meant a fresh start, a new life as man with a clean slate and the freedom to make choices and follow a new path.

Now that he was sitting at the airport in front of his gate waiting to board the plane to Srinagar, the picture of the past three months already started to blur. He didn't mind, it wasn't a nice picture. No, it really wasn't, in fact it was dreadful. Painted in the darkest colors, filled with details of endless interrogations, threats and negotiations, showing an immense amount of frustration, anger, pain and fear but the top layer, the surface sealing was shiny, reflecting hope and his final victory.

They had agreed to the deal he'd offered and now he was reborn as an upright american citizen with a boring but immaculate life story, all remnants of the man he used to be airbrushed out of his CV, and a very nice amount of money on an official bank account. A free man with zero knowledge of any official secrets. He had signed a bazillion waterproof documents, contracts and agreements that made sure he would never blow the whistle on his former employer. He was a dead man if he did. He had no intention to do so though. He just wanted to finally start his life with Helen, more than ever actually. The time without her had been extremely hard but the thought of her had given him the strength to fight and to resist the temptation of going the easy way, to return to the path of darkness and destruction when Solomon Lane's followers had tried to win him over again, to lure him back into the bosom of the so called family, consisting of blinded extremists and lost souls, reflections of his own former existence.

In the end he had won the war against the national authorities and the anarchistic terrorists he'd once called his friends and so Mr. Austin Peters, a 37 years old software engineer from Boston, MA, unmarried, no children, handsome despite the scars from a burn that covered a big part of his face, was able to board flight 283 from New Delhi to Srinagar without any problems. He found his seat and sat down next to an elderly Brit, who soon engaged Mr. Peters in conversation and he didn't mind a little small talk to help him pass the time. Paul from Brighton was pretty talkative and his British humor made him a pleasant person to talk to.

"What brings you to Srinagar, Austin?" He wanted to know after explaining he was going there for business reasons himself. "Business too?"

"No, I live a two hour drive away from Srinagar with my girlfriend," August said, smiling at the thought of her, a familiar warmth flooding his heart.

"Well," Paul said, "that's interesting. What do you do for a living out there in the wilds?"

"I work on the farm of a friend," he heard himself say and the moment the words left his mouth he knew he hoped they would become true. He wanted to do something useful, he wanted to work, physically, using his hands, feeling his body. Naseer had mentioned more than once that he'd love to expand his farm but between the lines August had been able to read that he lacked both manpower and money to do it. Maybe he would accept Austin Peters as a business partner and helping hand. August was the son of a farmer, so he knew the basics and he was willing to learn. With the prospect of a new purpose in life he politely ended the conversation with the British gentleman and fell into a doze, dreaming of his future with Helen.

Helen was dreaming too, but she was haunted by nightmares most of the time. Dark dreams that by night reflected the worries that made her life hell by day. She just couldn't stop the train of thoughts from running, pictures of August flying by the windows, while she was doomed to sit in her compartment, waiting for something to happen, waiting to reach her destination, hoping to find August standing at the platform.

The feeling of being powerless was the worst, knowing she was unable to do something, to help him. She tried to distract herself as good as possible but she still spent way too much time thinking about all kinds of worst case scenarios. August tortured by his former colleagues, August locked away in prison for the rest of his life, August dead, killed by the people who had trained him to be a killer once.

Weeks went by and Helen slowly started to doubt that he was able to keep his promise, reluctantly considering the possibility that he wouldn't be able to come back. The thought of never seeing him again threatened to tear her apart. She stopped living, she just functioned like a robot on auto pilot. Sleep, work, eat, repeat. Sometimes she forced herself to go for a walk, from time to time she visited Naseer and Lakshmee on their farm to prevent herself from cracking up but she wasn't sure for how much longer she'd be able to hold her shit together. She was living on the edge.

When she opened her eyes on this Saturday morning the sun was already shining bright at the autumn sky. Helen took a shower, got dressed, had some serials for breakfast and sat down in front of her laptop to work on the next chapter of her new book. It turned out it was impossible to write anything. She had hardly found sleep after another nightmare of August's dead body rotting in a prison cell somewhere in a secret CIA building in the middle of nowhere and a bad headache was clouding her vision. So she grabbed her jacket and left for a walk, hoping a bit of fresh air and crisp morning cold would help her clear her head.

When she approached the hut again two hours later and in a slightly better mood she saw someone standing on her porch from afar. At first she thought it was Naseer, but when she came closer the silouette of the tall, broad man that waited for her took shape and her vision became crystal clear all at once. She started to run and so did August, meeting her halfway, catching her when she literally jumped him. They hugged tightly, showering each other with kisses and loving words, repeatedly pinching themselves to make sure they weren't dreaming. Helen started to feel dizzy from the sensation of relief and happiness that flooded her body and at some point when her body began to tremble and August realized she was about to faint he lifted her up, carrying her to the cabin, across the threshold like a groom would carry his bride, laying her down on the bed, plopping down beside her with a soft sigh.

Much later, at the end of the day, when the stars were twinkling and a full moon was illuminating the cold black night, they had made love for hours, they had talked for hours, they had cried and laughed and remained silent together for hours.

Now they were standing in the kitchen, August making some pancakes for a midnight dinner, Helen setting the table, both enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, soaking up the happiness that filled the room. When they were eating in comfortable silence, August lifted his head, locking eyes with Helen.

"I've never been so happy before in all my life, Henny. This, right now... that's it. You and me. That's all I'll ever need."

Helen smiled at him, nodding her head. "Yes. That's all we'll ever need. You and me together."

"You'll let me love you? Forever and always?" August wanted to know.

"I'll let you love me and I will love you. Forever and always," Helen agreed, getting up to sit down on August's lap, sealing their vow with a tender kiss.

THE END

******

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke @littleone65 @coloraturadiva

#henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker #august walker smut #august walker fanfiction #august walker x ofc

123 notes · View notes

youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 2

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2075

Additional note: In Norway, you are of age at 18.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

"... don't start eating until your brother joins us."

As he pushes himself down the large hallway leading to the kitchen, Ivar can hear Lagertha's assertive voice. He knows exactly who she's talking to and his suspicions are confirmed as soon as he enters the room, as a very displeased and apparently famished Hvitserk looks at him with irritation before letting out a muffled, "it's 'bout time."

"Sorry, I must have dozed off." Shrugging, Ivar wheels up to the kitchen table, the smell of pizza tickling his nostrils. He must be hungrier than he thought.

"You look like Hel." Sigurd sneers in greeting.

Ivar, without bothering to look up, just tilts his head and hisses through clenched teeth, "coming from you, dear brother, I take that as a compliment."

He can feel Lagertha's gaze upon him and when he turns his head toward her, she is staring at him, the worry obvious in her eyes.

"I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that but Sigurd isn't wrong." She crosses the room and leans over, her brow furrowed. "You look exhausted, sweetie, what's going on?"

Ivar almost wants to laugh. He looks exhausted? No kidding? Yeah, guess what? That's what two sleepless nights in a row usually do to you. At least that's what they did to him. What you did to him, haunting his nights and even haunting his dreams, waking him up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, the few times he managed to fall asleep. At least, he'd made up his mind early this morning. Hopefully, now that the decision has been made, he'll sleep better. Saturday night, he'll see you again. His heart is racing at the thought and he inhales deeply, trying to calm down.

Unsurprisingly persistent, Lagertha asks again as she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "Ivar, are you all right?"

He wishes he could just ignore his stepmom but knows she won't let it rest. Unwilling to admit that he owes his restless nights to a girl - to you - he decides to keep his answer vague. "So-so," he mumbles, slightly rocking his right hand.

"You're in pain? Do you need more meds? I could run to the drugstore really quick."

For once, he doesn't resent Ubbe for his well-meant yet patronizing kindness, nor for the pitying look he gives him. Actually, he silently thanks him for the good diversion. As long as his brothers and Lagertha believe that it's his legs that bother him, keeping him awake, his secret - you - will be safe.

Faking a small, sheepish smile, Ivar shakes his head. "Thanks bro, but that's okay, I have everything I need. Guess I should just double-up the tramadol tonight." He winces for good measure, knowing fully well he won't even need a single dose. The pain in his legs today is barely at four, nothing he can't handle.

Once the meal is almost over – which in plain English means that everyone but Hvitserk has finished eating, but thanks to Lagertha principle 'no one leaves the table until everyone has finished, boys', they're all stuck here – Ivar decides it's time to break the news.

"I'm gonna go to the party."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the kitchen falls quiet. Even Hvitserk stops chewing, putting his last slice of pizza back on his plate.

Not knowing what to do with the silence, and feeling a little awkward, Ivar explains further, a hand on his neck, "the midsummer party, I mean. Harald's party."

"We heard you just fine, sweetie." Lagertha is the first to pull herself together, even though the disbelief is clear in her voice. As Ivar looks up, his brothers are staring at him, slack-jawed, bewildered, probably wondering what's got into their baby brother.

"Let me get this straight." With widened eyes, Ubbe starts running both hands through his hair, "you are considering attending Harald's party, right? That's... That's what you said?"

"Yep." Ivar shrugs as if it was no big deal. Who is he kidding? Of course, it is! Attending the party is a fucking huge deal for him. There's no way in Hel he'll admit it, though. Not in front of his brothers. No fucking way!

"I'm not sure I understand..." Ubbe sounds cautious and it infuriates Ivar to no end.

"What part of 'I'm gonna go to the party' don't you get, brother? Huh? Too many big words for you?" He wants to keep going but when Lagertha clears her throat and gives him a stern look, he faintly raises an apologetic hand while muttering under his breath, "okay, okay, I'll stop."

Heaving a sigh, he shrugs once more. "Seriously, you don't all have to look so surprised. I just want to go to Harald's party. It's really not that big of a deal."

"But you never wanted to, sweetie. Why now?" Lagertha's eyes are wide open and there's a frown on her forehead as she crosses her arms.

"Why not?" Ivar can't help but raise his voice. "I'm sixteen, Lagertha! Thought I was entitled to a change of heart. Was I wrong?" Pointing a finger successively at each of his brothers, his free hand grabs his push rim, his knuckles white. "The three of you attend every year, why shouldn't I?" Looking directly at Lagetha once again, he asks in a clipped voice, "You're not going to tell me I can't go, are you?"

"Of course not, sweet–" She begins but Ubbe cuts her off.

"Listen Ivar, no one is saying you shouldn't go, not yet at least. As a matter of fact, no one would be more pleased than I if you were willing to go out more. Playing pool, going to the movies, or just having drinks, you know you're always welcome to come along with us. But..." Ubbe groans, rubbing his hands over his face and Ivar stiffens, grinding his teeth, "Harald's party, really? It's not going to work. You know it takes place on the beach, it's not exactly wheelchair-friendly."

Reluctantly taking his eyes off his slice of pizza, Hvitserk jumps in. "Ivar is our brother, if he wants to go, we find a way. That's it - I'll carry him."

Positively surprised, a small smile playing on his lips, Ivar thanks his brother with a nod, glad – and relieved too, because two are always better than one, right? – that Hvitserk, as so often, backs him up. Of all his brothers, he's the only one who sees him first as a sixteen-year-old and not as a cripple.

Ubbe is having none of it though. "Hvitserk, just stay out of this, okay?" He's practically shouting, chin up and chest out. "You don't have a say! I'm the oldest, not you! I don't think it's a good idea for Ivar to attend Harald's party, period."

Hvitserk furrows his brow and for a short moment, Ivar thinks his brother is going to fight back but eventually he lowers his gaze, defeated, before shoving the whole slice of pizza into his mouth. Ivar knows all too well that his brother, who's not the most tenacious of them, hates confrontation, especially with Ubbe.

Unlike him, Ivar is always ready to pick up a fight, even when it's not worth it, even when he is wrong. Today, though, it's definitely worth it.

His nostrils flaring, he smashes his fist down on the table, his face crumpled with anger. "Who do you think you are, Ubbe? You may be the oldest, but you're not my father, okay? So please, just do me a favor, brother, and read my lips." His voice dripping with sarcasm, his bottom lips quivering, Ivar is absolutely livid, "You. Don't. Have. A. Say. Period."

Ubbe is about to retort, his hands clenched into fists but Lagertha raises a hand, shutting him up. "Boys, boys, boys!" Glancing at Ubbe and then at Ivar, she shakes her head, not exactly thrilled with their outburst. "Now, calm down, both of you. Ubbe, Ivar is right. You may be his big brother, you may be an adult, but you're not his father. I know you mean well but as Ivar's guardian, I have the final say." Turning her head toward Ivar, she cracks him a reassuring smile. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Just the two of us."

***

Slamming the door shut, Ivar wheels up right next to his bed and, angling his chair just right, transfers over onto his bed before punching the wall, a roar escaping his lips. Big tears of frustration and anger run down his cheeks as Sigurd's words linger in his mind.

He had been surprised when his less-favorite brother had stayed out of the conversation.

He should have known better.

No sooner had Lagertha, Ubbe and Hvitserk left – she to make a phone call, they to join Margrethe – leaving them to tidy up the kitchen, than Sigurd had lashed out at him with harsh words and eyes full of spite.

"You messed up in the head, huh? It's a fucking beach, Ivar, you do realize your front wheels will get stuck in sand, right? Now tell me, little brother, do you really think we are going to carry your crippled ass around all night? Let me tell you, it's not going to happen! There will be so many better ways for us to spend the night. Girls, you know? Lots of them. Am I going to let you embarrass me and ruin my night? No! Not in a million years. And anyway, why do you even want to go? Get real, Ivar, you don't belong there, you just don't. You're a fucking cripple, a freak, an abnormality. No one wants you there. No one wants to see you. The sooner you accept it the better."

He knows Sigurd was intentionally trying to hurt him. And fuck, he did succeed. Ivar had felt so humiliated that it had brought bile to his throat.

At some point, while Sigurd was spitting his venom, Ivar had grabbed the large knife lying on the table and it took all his self-control not to stab his brother. No doubt his shrink would be proud of him.

Now though in his room, and even if he is boiling with anger, the nagging thought that Sigurd had a point, that he wasn't completely wrong, doesn't leave him. And he can see now that, in his own weird way, Ubbe was trying to protect him. By preventing him from going, his big brother wanted to spare him humiliation, pity, and mockery. Hvitserk, of course, had been willing to help, but let's face it, Sigurd once again was right. Piggy-back riding is not really an option anymore, he is too heavy. Plus, if he's being honest, even if it were still possible, it's the last thing he'd want. The mere thought of you seeing him on Ubbe's or Hvitserk's back makes him nauseous. Which puts him back to square one.

The beach is a problem and a huge one. Wheeling in sand is a no-go. It's just fucking impossible. If he doesn't come up with an idea soon, he's not going to be physically able to attend the party. And that's something he doesn't want to consider.

"I need a fucking genius idea!" He speaks out loud, cracking his knuckles, his eyes squeezed shut.

Fuck.

He just wants to see you. Y/N... Just you. And he won't be able to.

Fuck. Fucking sand! Fucking beach! Fucking legs! Fuck– Stop.

Wait.

What... What did he say?

He needs an idea... A genius idea. Genius. That's it.

A slow smile spreads across his face.

Good thing he knows an authentic genius, right?

Grabbing his phone, he frantically slides his pointer finger on the screen, sighing with relief as he finds the contact he is looking for.

"Hello, Ivar," the man answers after two rings, and his voice brings an even bigger smile to Ivar's lips, "it's very sweet of you to call me."

"Hello to you too, you spindly legged, knock-kneed old fool. There might be something that you can do for me. I want to attend Harald's party. It'll take place on the beach. My brothers won't carry me and I can't really crawl about, can I? I wonder if you could help me, Floki?"

Ivar's godfather lets out a high-pitched chuckle before answering, "I'll figure something out, dear Ivar, I'll figure something out."

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

97 notes · View notes

x-reader-theater · 3 years

Note

Inspired by the @katytheinspiredworkaholic Noir AU mood board, Spencer dating Hotches or Alvezes younger brother in around 20's-40's era when it was still illegal. Hotch or Alvez (who ever you choose) would be some sort of important name in the city so obviously the reader would be too, being from a wealthy family. So it is especially hard for the reader and Spencer to sneak around kissing and stuff when everyone has their eyes on the reader. But one day the reader realises that fuck the others, he is wealthy and so known that no-one dared to mess with him anyway so reader and Spencer would publicly announce their relation ship.

(sorry if its too long of a request)

This got away from me a bit, I'm so sorry. I also made a moodboard because I was so inspired. This was soooooo much fun to write. I love me a good noir AU loll. Edited by @mystic-writes

Moodboard by Me

You laugh lightly as Spencer pushes you into the wall right outside of your bedroom, kissing down your neck and sucking right below your collarbone. You chose to have your top three buttons undone tonight, just for this very purpose. You wanted to entice, without making it known that it was your intention. You got a few ladies coming over to try and talk to you, much to your brother's delight, but you rebuffed every single one of them. They weren't who your heart was truly with.

You moan as you grind your hips against Spencer's and pant out, "We- uh- we should get inside. Before someone sees us."

"Let them," Spencer says, kissing your neck more. "Let them see us. I don't care."

You push Spencer away, holding him at arm's length, before saying, "I do. I care. Do you know what my brother would do if he found out who I shared my bed with?"

You look away from Spencer, who sighs. "Maybe I should go-"

"No, wait," you say, grabbing his wrist. "Please don't. Just, hold me tonight?"

Spencer smiles and kisses you.

–

"Hey! Little brother! Come to watch the show?" your older brother Luke asks you from his usual seat. He's the only one in the club, but that makes sense since the sun hasn't even set yet. You walk over and sit down next to him, and he leans over, whispering, "Isn't she a vision?"

he points to the obviously very beautiful woman on stage, with dark skin and black hair curled beautifully on her head. She's wearing a white rhinestoned dress with spaghetti straps and you think you see her pearly white heels underneath . She looks stunning.

"She's not my type," you say, leaning back and listening to her sing.

Luke hits your arm. "No one is! I swear, if Ma and Pa hadn't raised me to be such a gentleman, I would be kickin' the snot out of you to find out."

You snort when he says he's a gentleman, but cross your arms and ignore it. "I do have a type. You just don't know what it is," you snort, and look over at your brother, who's frowning at you. "You're not her type either." You nod to the woman on stage.

"What do you mean? I'm everybody's type!" Luke exclaims and the woman glares at you.

You snort. "She keeps looking over at Penelope at the bar, making sure she's watching. She's singing a love song, but the only person in the entire place that it's for is your bartender."

Luke's eyes go wide, and you smile and slap him on the shoulder, while the woman finishes her song. You give Penelope a wink as you exit.

–

That night, you walk into the club. No one's singing at the moment, but you met the woman, Tara, back behind the stage in one of the back rooms that had been converted into a dressing room for her. She's going to go on stage later, and you paid her something extra to make the first song a love song.

You were good for it after all.

You haven't been keeping up with the family as much as you used to, but you notice your brother doing deals every now and again, and you have to step in to save him from getting his ass beat.

You take a deep breath and walk into the crowded club, the low jazz coming from the band on stage. You walk over to the bar and order a gin from Emily, who smiles at you and takes it from your fingers before you can grab it. She points at one of the tables where you see Spencer, sitting with a woman, ignoring her flirting. You sigh and thank Emily, before going to the table with your drink, and sitting down on Spencer's other side.

"[Y/N]!" he exclaims, a grateful look in his eyes.

"Spencer! Good to see you," you say, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. You squeeze it and he smiles at you. "Who's your friend here?" You ask, gesturing to her, but you don't stop touching him.

"Uh, this is… uh…" he starts to say, but the woman frowns at him when he doesn't say it.

"I'm Lila. Lila Archer," she says. While you're in Chicago, most folks around here don't have any sort of accent. She however has a southern lilt to her words. She's blonde haired and blue eyed, and she looks incredibly uncomfortable in here, surrounded by both black and white folks. There was also the occasional Hispanic person in here, like your brother, but they are few and far between.

Your brother owns one of the only mixed race clubs in town, only because he was adopted into the family as a young boy. He has the money as a non-white to own and run a business. Helps that his "family" is a majority white as well.

Your grandfather was sent to Chicago from New York to make sure the city knew the Italians still ran the place. But, he likes to pick up a lot of strays.

Doctor Spencer Reid being one of them. No one quite knows what he's a doctor of, but he seems to be a doctor of everything. Medicine, the arts, mathematics, you name it, he probably knows it. It's one of the many reasons you fell in love with him.

"Miss Archer. I've never seen you in here before. Is this your first time visiting my brother's club?" You ask.

She nods stiffly. "That's right. My father wants to buy this place, but he can't seem to put in an offer big enough. Says he wants to rid the city of it's filth and reclaim it for the whites once again."

"Well, Miss Archer, as you can see, there are plenty of whites here tonight," you say, gesturing to the people seated at tables and getting drinks from the bar. "And I'm really hoping you don't share the same… convictions as he does, because otherwise, I might just have to get one of my people to throw you out of here."

You make eye contact with Morgan who's sitting at a nearby table and he nods at you, acknowledging what you want.

"I-" she begins to say, before she deflates. "I wanted to see what was so bad, all the voodoo and evil devil worshiping he says he's seen you folks doin'. But, y'all just seem like good honest people."

You smile at her and stand up. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Archer. I think you'll find we're a lot more human than everyone makes us out to be." She smiles at you and you turn to Spencer, holding out your hand. "Now, my good doctor, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a dance? Miss Lewis is about to start her singing, and I heard it's going to be *beautiful*."

Spencer grins and takes your hand. You drag him to the dance floor, where there's already a group of people dancing together, swinging them around their bodies, moving and shaking and laughing.

The music gradually changes, and while it does get slower and softer, it is by no means a slow dancing tune.

You start shaking your hips and kicking your legs and Spencer does the same. He spins you around, almost forcing you to go out and in, and it's perfect. The melody is beautifully sung by Tara, and you smile as your back is pulled to Spencer's chest. He loops his arms around you, and you look up at him, smiling.

He's looking at you with a quizzical look, as if saying, "You sure you want to do this?"

Instead of answering, you kiss him. He opens his mouth and you slide your tongue into his mouth, capturing his mouth in a wet and heated kiss. When you pull away, he has the happiest smile on his face.

You look over at your brother, who has the angriest look on his face, and you raise an eyebrow, silently saying, "Just try to stop me."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid #luke alvez #noir au #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my writing #my work

148 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Chapter 9: Closer

...in which Ezi has her first kiss.

Word count: 5.4k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Please tell me what you think about the chapter! Reblog if you could :)

“Do you know why there’s a true love’s kiss and not a true love’s hug?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I was asking you.”

Harry sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He had to keep his eyes on the road, but Ezi would keep distracting him with her shifting in her seat every two seconds and rambling on about silly topics he had no interest in. However, he’d promised to not be a dick whenever she talked to him, so he wouldn’t.

“Can’t you see that I’m driving?”

“So?” Ezi snorted. “Just answer the question.”

Harry sighed again. “I guess that’s because a kiss is more special than a hug...romantically.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Why not not? You’re just exchanging saliva.”

“It’s special if you’re exchanging saliva with someone you care about.”

Ezi still wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. “Okay, but what if the person won’t let you kiss them? How will you know if it’s true love?”

“If they don’t want to kiss you, it means they’re not interested, and therefore, it’s not true love,” Harry said. He couldn’t believe he was actually giving this some thought, but oh well, it was a long drive to the manor anyway. “For me at least,” he added, “true love must come from both sides.” Then he stole a glance at her and did a double-take. “Are you taking notes on your phone?”

Ezi flinched and put her phone into her bag right when she made eye contact with him. “No.”

“Liar. You were.”

“I’m learning to be human.”

“Just say you wanna kiss me.” Harry smirked. “We’re the only people here. This is a safe space.”

“It’s never a safe space when you’re in it,” Ezi said.

Harry’s eyebrows went high. “Excuse me? Yesterday you almost attacked a child for cutting the line in the supermarket.”

Ezi gave a firm nod without showing any remorse. “And the child would have deserved it. You, on the other hand, are deadly with your words.”

“How?!” cried Harry. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since we started fake dating.”

Ezi rolled her eyes and checked her watch. “Yeah, your new record of being nice to me is two hours. Congrats.”

Harry exhaled, his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I think we should go over what to do when we see my mum, because if we act like this in front of her--”

“Why are we seeing your mother again?”

“Didn’t Jeff tell you?”

Ezi shook her head. She seemed quite confused, so Harry guessed Jeff had forgotten. To be honest, Harry found it funny and a little concerning that she had no idea why she was in the car after having been in the car for two hours. Someone could just kidnap her one day, and she wouldn’t even realise until they told her it was a kidnap. Or, maybe she just trusted him not to drive her to a government lab and donate her organs to science.

“Well, Jeff wants some new PR content of you hanging out with my family,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked, face scrunched up.

He lifted his shoulders. “To humanise you.”

“Good luck with that,” Ezi scoffed, rested her elbow on the window on her side and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “It takes a lot to humanise me.”

“Well, not literally. Just in the public eye, because a lot of people suspect that this is a PR relationship. We’ve only been seen together as friends or co-workers.”

“That’s not true. We’re not even friends.”

“Exactly!” Harry exclaimed. “So if we can convince my mother that we’re dating, we can convince the whole world. Trust me.”

Harry didn’t even exaggerate it; his mother could detect a lie from miles away. He could count the number of times he’d got away with a lie to her on one hand. However, he had never lied to her about being in a relationship. So hopefully, she’d be too happy with the thought of him not being a player like his dad to tell the whole thing was fake.

And so for the rest of the drive, he and Ezi tried acting out scenarios for when they met his mother again. They broke out laughing most of the time because Harry would say something too cheesy or Ezi would use some lines she’d learned from those Netflix originals that Harry had rated one star. Now that they were standing on the steps of the manor, they had to keep it together. Because no one would shout ‘cut!’ if they messed up their lines. This was almost like going in for a blind audition, and Harry knew his mother would be the toughest judge to impress.

“Harold!”

“Niall?” Harry’s eyes went wide when his best friend shoved the butler aside and embraced Harry at the door. Mikasa, Niall’s girlfriend, was standing right behind him, wearing a dark green satin dress that fell loosely to her knees. She gave Harry a lopsided smile, her black curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approached.

Harry hadn’t talked to her for weeks, but he assumed she already knew about Ezi. Hopefully just as much as his mother did. Unless Niall had broken the bro code and told Mikasa everything.

“Mimi, long time no see!” Harry said as he went in for a hug.

Mikasa eyed him up and down with her big smokey eyes. He always imagined those eyes having a special power that enabled her to stare right into his soul and read him like an unsealed letter. She was a psychiatrist and always making her friends feel like they were having a regular session in her office.

“So this is your girlfriend?” Mikasa asked, smiling at Ezi.

Harry’s gaze jumped to Niall, who subtly locked his lips with an invisible key and tossed it over his shoulder. Niall knew about the PR relationship, but Harry could always trust Niall not to tell anyone, even Mikasa. Especially Mikasa.

“Darling, you made it!” exclaimed Harry’s mother as she descended the stairs. Harry was just going in for a hug when he saw who were following behind her. And he froze.

Dawson and evil Aunt Beatrice. Dawson was wearing a simple black suit, completely made invisible by his mother in the tackiest neon orange sundress Harry had ever seen. He could hear his stylish crying just from seeing this outfit.

“What are they doing here, Mum?” Harry quietly asked his mother as they hugged.

His mother kissed his cheek and whispered back, “Since you invited Niall and Mikasa, I thought I should invite Dawson and his mother.”

“How is that the same thing?”

“Harry!” Aunt Beatrice said in her glass-breaking voice as she pulled him in for a suffocating bear hug. “Ah, you grew up so fast! I hardly recognise you!”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, Aunt Beatrice.”

“I know, right? Kids these days.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Harry,” Harry’s mother reminded him, so Harry took a deep breath and went to stand beside Ezi. She looked at him like a deer in front of headlights. This couldn’t be good. His family must be overwhelming for her.

“Hey, Ezili!” Dawson waved at her with a smile, and suddenly, her face brightened, and she enthusiastically waved back. Traitorous little fish, Harry thought as he watched the two greet one another.

“Congratulations, you two,” Dawson said.

Ezi opened her mouth to reply when Harry threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back to his side. He gave Dawson the best grin he could fake. “Thanks,” was all he said.

“Picture, everyone!” Niall interrupted the awkward interaction and pulled out his phone.

Everyone gathered together, and Niall winked at Harry. “Now, Mother Styles, could you stand closer to Ezili? Closer! Thanks. There we go. Looks like Ezili’s a part of the family.”

Once the picture was taken, he nudged Harry with his shoulder. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

Harry patted him on the back. “Send it to Jeff for me.”

“Boys, are you coming?” asked Mikasa, who was walking ahead, holding Ezi’s hand.

“Coming, lovebug!” Niall shouted at her and told Harry. “See? She likes Ezili.”

“So what do you do for a living?” was the first question Harry’s mother asked Ezili when they sat down at the lunch table. They were eating in a glass house in the flower garden by the lake. There were people dressed in uniforms serving them tea and appetizers, and Ezili felt like she was Alice having tea with the Queen of Hearts and her courtiers in Wonderland.

“I work at a bookstore,” she said when one of the maids filled her cup with Jasmine tea.

She didn’t understand Harry’s mother’s appalled reaction and why Harry had to add, “Ezi owns a bookstore.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Harry’s mother said, sounding strangely relieved.

Irritated, Ezili leaned in and whispered to Harry, “Why did you lie?”

But he didn’t answer and only shushed her before smiling at his mother again.

“Can’t believe I get to live to see Harry bring home a young lady!” said Aunt Beatrice. Dawson opened his mouth to interject, but she didn’t give him a chance, “I always thought you were gay!”

At that, Niall choked on his tea, and Mikasa had to rub his back as he coughed violently into his fist. Ezili knew what gay meant, but why was it a bad thing?

“What if I were?” Harry asked his aunt. “I don’t see the problem with me being gay, which I’m not.”

“These biscuits are so nice, Aunt Annalise,” Dawson told Harry’s mother, probably trying to save the conversation from turning into a fight. But it seemed like Dawson’s mother was out for blood this morning.

“Harry,” Aunt Beatrice started again, and Ezili saw Mikasa and Niall sink into their chairs. “You’re a celebrity and the heir to this manor and your father's business. It’s so...unexpected of you to be dating some girl who works in a bookstore.”

Ezili wasn’t dumb. She might not understand a lot of things humans said, but she knew sarcasm like her mother tongue. It was her time to say something.

“What’s wrong with working in a bookstore?” she asked, making direct eye contact with Aunt Beatrice, who was shocked by the question. Everyone at the table seemed to be holding their breath.

“How much could you possibly do and make by owning a bookstore these days?” Aunt Beatrice laughed.

Ezili smirked and shook her head. “You could do and make a lot if you knew how to read.”

Harry kicked Ezili’s foot under the table, but she didn’t pay him a single glance. She believed she’d said nothing wrong at all. It was only the truth. Because why look down on people who worked at a bookstore unless you hated books because you couldn’t read?

Seeing his mother’s face turning red, Dawson burst out laughing. “Oh my God, she’s so funny!” Mikasa and Niall started laughing, too, and Harry’s mother awkwardly joined in.

“That’s what they call dark humour, Aunt Beatrice,” Niall told the angry giant lady. “Ezi’s a true Gen Z. She’s all jokes.”

Aunt Beatrice said nothing else. She shot a glare at a smiling Ezili and lifted her cup to take a sip.

“Oh, there’s my new cook!” said Harry’s mother as she waved at the door. “This is Dolores' first day at work. Come say hello, Dolores dear.”

“Good morning. I hope everyone’s having a wonderful time.”

Ezili’s entire body went stiff. Her eyes almost popped out of her head and dropped onto the plate in front of her. She knew that voice. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage as she held her breath. She felt the person’s presence beside her heavy like a weight ready to crush her bones into dust. Out of the corner of her eyes, she looked up.

Her sister Koa was grinning down at her.

“Ezili, are you okay?” Dawson asked, snapping Ezili out of her numbness.

Koa’s devilish grin remained as she circled the table after wishing everyone a pleasant meal, then disappeared out of the entrance.

Why was she here? Why did she have legs? How had she found Ezili?

“Okay, let's get straight to the point,” Aunt Beatrice started again, and everyone groaned at once. “How much did he pay you?”

“Mum!” cried Dawson.

“Excuse me?” Harry arched an eyebrow.

“It’s PR, isn’t it?” Aunt Beatrice said to him. Ezili was having a hard time paying attention to the argument while her heart was still pounding in her head. Her sister was here, either for her, or after her.

“You can’t do that to your mother, Harry,” Dawson’s mother went on. “She might be easily fooled but I’m not.”

“We should’ve gone for mini-golf,” Mikasa muttered to Niall, who exhaled into his hand.

Harry turned to his mother. “You’re just gonna let her disrespect my girlfriend like that?”

His mother opened her mouth to speak, but his aunt was faster. “If she’s your girlfriend then kiss her.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry scoffed and threw his hands in the air.

Ezili immediately stood up. All eyes fell on her.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I must go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll take you--”

“No, Harry, you stay.”

Harry slowly sat back down as Ezili pushed her chair out and headed straight for the door. Thankfully, he didn’t follow her.

She crossed the garden and asked one of the employees where the kitchen was. As it turned out, they had a separate kitchen for when they served food in the glasshouse. Ezili couldn’t see the point of having more than one kitchen, but this was no time to question it.

When she found Koa, no one else was there but them. It seemed as if Koa had known Ezili would follow her here, so she’d asked everyone else to leave.

Ezili stood at the door while her sister stood by the counter with her back turned to Ezili. The first thing Ezili noticed was the knives within Koa’s reach. Ezili must be wise when confronting her sister.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Koa in Séren.

Koa slowly turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I’m a cook. Can't you see?”

“How did you find me?”

The corner of Koa’s lips curled as she unbuttoned the collar of her white shirt and revealed a gold necklace. Ezili sucked in a breath when she saw the shiny trident-shaped medallion on her sister’s chest.

“Is that--”

“Mother’s trident,” Koa sneered. “Yes, it is.” Then she buttoned up her shirt to cover it. “Now we can see who mother trusts more.”

“Why--”

“Aunt Nerissa came for a visit last week,” Koa said. Ezili knew that name could never be associated with anything good. “Mother doesn’t trust her, so she asked me to go on land to find you, but also to keep the trident away from Nerissa’s clutches.”

Ezili swallowed hard, her fists tightly glued to her sides. “What happened to the cook?”

Koa clicked her tongue. “She’s swimming with fishes now. Like the ones swimming in her pot just then.”

“You drowned her?!”

“In the lake.”

Ezili gripped her head and advanced towards Koa. “How many humans have you killed?”

Koa chuckled and took a few steps forward until she was dangerously close enough to hurt Ezili. She stood with her back straight and arms folded, her silver eyes flickering in the sunlight. “The important question is…” She stared Ezili down. “How many have you killed?” Ezili bit her lip when Koa poked her chest with her long nail. “Or are you too busy dating now? People are talking about it everywhere.” Ezili said nothing, so Koa went on, “It’s a fake relationship, isn’t it?” She leaned in, taunting. “Come on, Sister. Admit that you’ve failed. That you can’t make the human fall in love with you. Why so quiet? Is it because if you admit it, you’re an embarrassment and you lose the trident to me, and if you deny it, then it means you’re becoming way too human to kill him.”

At that, Ezili shoved Koa away and stabbed a finger at her. “Leave me alone. Mother gave me a year for this mission.”

“We won’t have that much time, stupid,” Koa snorted. “Narissa is onto something. The queendom is already in danger as we’re speaking. And you’re here having...brunch?” She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Pathetic.”

“Ezi?”

Both of them whipped their heads around and saw Harry, who stiffened in the doorway.

“Ezi?” Koa cackled, hugging her stomach. “Is that your human name? Are you his pet now?”

Though confused, Harry stepped into the kitchen anyway. “Ezi, you’re alright?”

“Harry, watch out!” Ezili shouted, but Koa was already on top of Harry on the floor. She sank her fangs into Harry’s arm with the rolled-up sleeve. Harry yelped in pain as Ezili dragged her sister off of him and slammed Koa’s head against the table. Hissing, Koa grabbed a knife on the counter and aimed it at Ezili, but Ezili was fast enough to kick it out of her sister’s grip and sent one more kick into Koa’s stomach. Koa was stronger than Ezili had thought as she plunged at Ezili again.

“Harry, run!”

But Harry didn’t run. He was back on his feet, grabbed a vase and smashed it onto Koa’s back. “Do not hurt my fake girlfriend!”

Koa rolled off of Ezili. The last thing Ezili could see was her sister’s bloodied face as she stumbled towards the door and ran off into the light.

Ezili lay there until her vision cleared again, and Harry helped her back to her feet.

“What the fuck?!” he yelled. “Who the fuck was she?!”

“My sister,” Ezili said, still holding her aching head.

“The one who tried to drown me? Why is she here?”

“To kill me, I think.”

“Why?”

“Harry--”

But Harry wasn’t listening. He was pacing back and forth like a mad man. “This isn’t good, Ezi. This is bad! Your crazy sister is gonna expose us!”

“Expose us?” Ezili grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. “She almost killed you.”

It seemed as if Harry had forgotten that his arm was bleeding until Ezili had brought it up. He suddenly winced and fell into a chair.

Ezili scanned her eyes around the messy kitchen, panting as she tried to make sure that Koa had escaped. Then, she got down on her knees beside Harry and reached for his wounded arm.

He stared down at her in confusion, then his expression turned horrified when she leaned in.

“What the fuck?!” he hissed and yanked his arm away.

She glared up at him in annoyance. “Let me help!”

“Hell no! You’re not gonna lick my blood.”

“You need to clean the wound!”

“With water! Not by sucking it!”

Ezili huffed and aggressively got up while silently cursing Harry in Séren.

“There’s a--” His voice cut off when she tore off a piece of her dress “--towel over there,” he trailed off. She ignored him and went to the sink to soak the piece of fabric in water. He shook his head and blew up his cheeks. “Nevermind. You do you.”

Still glaring at him when she returned, Ezili got back down on her knees and started cleaning Harry’s arm. The place her sister had sunk her fangs into had turned dark red. It would definitely leave a huge bruise tomorrow.

“Lucky for you Koa was distracted and didn’t aim to bite your whole arm off,” Ezili whispered and glanced up, meeting Harry’s gaze. “You sure you don’t want me to lick your wound?”

“Well, now that you’re already in this position, you could just lick something else,” he chuckled.

Ezili’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

To her confusion, Harry covered his face and shook with laughter. “Sorry, that was a dumb joke. I just couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“Yeah, that’s how a joke loses its funny,” he sighed then snapped his fingers. “Ooh, maybe I should just pretend that I don’t understand whenever someone tells me a joke, so that they gradually lose their funny.”

“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard,” Ezili remarked.

“What do you mean?” Harry pouted. “I don’t get it, babe.”

Ezili rolled her eyes at his childishness, still, she couldn’t help but smile a little.

Once she had wrapped the piece of her dress securely around his arm, Harry pulled down the sleeve to cover it as he got to his feet. “That should do. Let’s hope my mother won’t suspect that we just got attacked in her kitchen by her cook, who was your evil siren sister in disguise. Damn, that sounds crazy even for me.”

Ezili stood with her arms crossed. “Do you think your mother can tell we’re not really dating?”

“Nah, my mother totally believes it.” Harry shrugged. “Honestly, I think we’re doing a great job pretending we’re in love when we can’t even have a conversation without insulting each other.”

“I don’t get paid enough to call you babe so many times.”

“Neither do I. This PR relationship is harder than I tho--”

Harry’s sentence got cut off by a sound at the door. When they both turned to it, Dawson was standing there, his eyes wide with shock.

Ezili was hoping that was the reaction to the messy kitchen and not to what she and Harry had said. However, luck wasn’t smiling at her tonight. Dawson’s appalled gaze jumped from Harry to Ezili. “What do you mean by ‘PR relationship’?”

“I can explain,” Ezi said, reaching for Dawson, but he backed away while staring at both her and Harry in disbelief. Harry believed Dawson wasn’t shocked that Harry could pull something like this, because Harry hadn’t been exactly the good kid growing up. What Dawson hadn’t expected was Ezi being part of this plan. Ezi must be an angel in Dawson’s eyes.

“So my mother was right,” Dawson said, flicking his finger between Harry and Ezi. “You were lying to everyone.”

“Dawson--” Ezi began, but Harry pulled her back by her wrist.

“Please don’t tell my mother,” he told Dawson and received stunned looks from both Dawson and Ezi. They probably hadn’t expected that coming from him. “This means a lot to her, and I don’t want her to be any more let down,” Harry continued. “Also, Ezi needs money, and I’m just trying to help. She’s also writing the next album with me, so it’s all good business.”

Dawson peered at both their faces for a long moment as if he was psychoanalysing each of them. Then, he breathed, “So you two don't have feelings for each other?”

“No.” Ezi shook her head fast and tugged at Harry’s sleeve. “Harry, tell him.”

Harry opened his mouth. Suddenly, he thought about how frightened he’d been when he’d thought Ezi’s sister was going to kill her. He could’ve run off and let her deal with it alone since he hadn’t asked to be part of her family drama, and he wasn’t brave, either. Nevertheless, he’d jumped in to help her.

“No,” he said, only to realise he shouldn’t have taken such a long pause to say only one word.

“See?” Ezi smiled at Dawson, who seemed less sceptical now.

“Okay,” Dawson said, his face relaxed as he put his hands on his hips. “Who else knows? Niall and Mikasa?”

“Mikasa doesn’t know,” Harry said. “Only Niall.”

“Alright.” Dawson nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But you guys are really bad at pretending to be in love,” he told them after another moment. “I’ll try to tell my mum to stop being rude to you. But just to be safe, you should make it more convincing.”

Ezi heaved a sigh of relief and placed her hand on Dawson’s arm. Harry swore he saw Dawson hold his breath as if Ezi had the Midas touch, and Harry had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

“Thank you, Dawson,” Ezi said in the softest tone Harry had ever heard.

“Your dress,” Dawson pointed out while eyeing her and then the kitchen. “What...what happened here?”

��There was a rat,” Harry blurted.

Ezi joined in, “Harry tried to kill it then it knocked over the vase, and I fell and pulled him down with me and ripped my dress on the glass.”

Dawson furrowed his brows as he nodded at the piece of Ezi’s dress in her fist. “That’s your blood?”

Ezi shook her head. “It’s the rat’s.” Then, she looked over at Harry, suppressing a grin. He stayed quiet and glared at her.

“Oh, God. That’s disgusting,” Dawson made a face. “Need me to help you clean up?”

“No, I’ll take care of it,” Harry said. “I’ll take Ezi upstairs to clean up. Could you distract everyone for a while?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dawson nodded, gave Ezi a tight-lipped smile and turned to the door. “Now, where the hell is the cook?”

Harry could hear every single word of the Jonas Brothers song playing downstairs. It seemed like everyone had finished brunch without him and Ezi, and now Niall was turning the manor into a concert. Niall and Mikasa had met at a Jonas Brothers’ concert years ago, and they would not let people forget about it. What they had was cute, but Harry could not imagine being with someone for that long. A PR relationship was tiring enough; he didn’t think he could ever handle a real one.

Back against the wall, he stared at his watch and tapped his foot impatiently before he came to knock on the door to his mother’s walk-in closet. “Ezi, are you done?”

“I don’t know how to put this on!”

Harry tossed his head back and groaned. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah!”

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath. “Cover yourself. I’m coming in.”

Just to be safe, he had his hand over his eyes when he opened the door.

You'll say my name like it's been on your lips

Familiar in ways I can't explain

You got a heart that I know I can miss

Hold me like that and pull me right back again

The music outside became muffled. Harry peeked through the gap between his fingers, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Ezi standing there topless with only jeans on. “I told you to cover yourself!”

“Oh, please, there’s nothing you haven’t seen.”

“It’s different every time.”

“How? I’ve only got one body.”

“No, seeing you feels different every time. It’s weird.”

Time stands still and it's only us

What we feel started way before we ever touched

Just imagine only us

Yeah, you found me right before I'd given up

Ezi said nothing, and Harry lowered his hand, feeling glad that she was facing away from him now. She looked over her shoulder, frowning. “Help me with this shirt!”

He ruffled his hair and padded over to take the shirt from her hand. “You got the button stuck?! This is my mother’s favourite Chanel shirt!”

“It was like that when I found it.”

“Liar.” Harry shook his head and started examining the stuck button. Ezi turned around, hugging her chest so her breasts weren’t exposed to him. He was trying his best not to look. Maybe he shouldn’t have put her in a dress that didn’t require a bra. He guessed he’d played himself.

“Harry.”

“Damn, maybe I should get you another shirt and buy a new one for my mum. I don't know how to fix this.”

“Harry,” Ezi repeated and tapped Harry on the arm. He looked up, face heating when he saw her.

I just saw the lightning strike

Knew it right then when I looked in your eyes

And I said to myself, "It's no surprise we ain't strangers"

Strangers tonight

Still, he acted indifferent. “What?”

“I think we should kiss,” she said, making him flinch.

“Why?” He was already sweating through his palms. His mother’s shirt could no longer be saved now.

“To make it more convincing,” Ezi said as if them kissing wasn’t a big deal to her. “Maybe if there’s a picture of us kissing--”

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

She froze at the question and blinked at him.

I came here looking for another excuse

To run away from something beautiful

It's like it's driving me closer to you

Every step back pulls me right back

At this question, Ezi’s whole life up until that point flashed before her eyes. She had lost count of all the times she’d kissed sailors before drowning them. But she wasn’t going to kiss Harry to kill him. Not yet at least. He would still be there, alive, when she opened her eyes. He would still be aware of her lips against his. And she would, too.

“No,” she lied.

And he believed it. He cleared his throat. Suddenly, her standing there topless wasn’t weird anymore. “Okay, it’s pretty easy.” He put the shirt aside. His fingers were shaking so he opened and closed his fists a few times before beckoning her over. “Come here.”

She took a step forward.

“Closer.”

Another step.

Harry’s face reddened with a small smile. “Ezi, closer.”

He’d never talked to her in that tone before. It was soft and firm at the same time, and she completely forgot having sworn to herself that she would never let him tell her what to do. She came so close she could not tell his breath from her own. His eyelids fluttered, and his pink lips parted, yet no word escaped. Then, he leaned in.

Must be from a different life

Been here before and it just feels right

No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers

Strangers tonight

But it was her who took his face between her hands and kissed him first. He froze for a second, then started kissing her back, his arms circled around her waist, pressing her against him.

Harry’s entire body grew hot. The voice inside his head told him to stop, but it only made him bolder. He liked that she’d taken charge. Her hands were under his shirt as his roamed across her naked back. His eyes went wide when she unconsciously let out a moan.

Strangers

Strangers tonight

“Ezi,” he breathed against her lips. But before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door.

“Harry, are you in there?”

Ezi pulled away as Harry threw his head back and exhaled harshly. “Yes, Niall?”

“Is Ezili there with you?”

“Yes,” Harry answered in a croaked voice and quickly cleared his throat. “Yes,” he repeated, sounding more stable. “Why?”

“You missed all the fun stuff. Your mother scolded your aunt for what she’d said to you and Ezi, and Dawson had to take his mother’s home.”

Harry looked over at Ezi, expecting her to be thrilled by the good news, but she only gave a small smile, her arms still tightly wrapped around herself to cover her breasts. Was she...shy?

Yes, yes she was. Ezi didn’t think she could ever be shy. But here she stood, blushing all over from a stupid kiss.

“Are they in there?” Harry’s mother’s voice outside the door made Harry and Ezi jump.

They looked at each other, scared when Niall told Harry’s mum that they were in the closet together.

“Not in my closet, Harry!”

“I’m just helping Ezi get changed, Mum!”

“You better!”

And then their footsteps faded down the hallway, along with his mother’s laughter.

Ezi and Harry made eye contact with each other and looked away at the same time as silence ensued. Suddenly, Harry started sniffing.

“What is it?” Ezi asked, worried.

Harry leaned in and started sniffing her neck, and she pushed him away. “What the hell?!”

“You smell.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.” Harry shook his head fast. “You smell good. But..you didn’t have a smell before.”

Ezi quickly lifted her arm to smell herself. “I smell nothing.”

“That’s because it’s your own smell, so you don't recognise it. But--” Harry cut off midsentence and picked up a strand of her hair and brought his nose to it. Then, his lips curled. “Aww, my kiss turned you a little more human.”

“Shut up!” Ezi shoved at his chest. “I’m not turning more human! That’s not true!”

“It is true! Kiss me again. I’ll prove it.”

She said nothing, only glared at him as he burst out laughing and tossed her a t-shirt.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles imagines #harry styles x mc #harry styles fic

142 notes · View notes