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#in high school i saw one of these hot women on screen and noticed with my jaw on the floor that she had underarm fat
hotvintagepoll · 1 month
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A lot of these women wouldn't be considered "attractive" by modern standards and as someone who shares a lot of similar facial features of the women in this poll its really really nice seeing so many people give love to these people. I don't know, I see a lot of myself in these women and seeing all the propaganda flattering them makes me feel better about myself too. It's really nice 💙
That's one of the reasons I love old movies! Watching old movies shows us that beauty standards aren't the solid, immovable things we think they are when we're growing up in them. I feel like the past is a different country, and traveling there can have the same joys as traveling anywhere: you see thing you don't care for and won't bring home, but you can also pick up new ideas and perspectives that change your life for the better.
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frizzle-tales · 10 months
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The next day was… different.
For once, Taehyung wasn’t barking orders at her, matter of fact, it was as if he expected her to not lift a finger all day.
He even went as far as letting her watch TV for the majority of the day. It was unusual but Jiyeon didn’t seek anything behind it, telling herself to enjoy it while it lasted.
Her eyes moved away from the screen and at his question, she nodded, murmuring a ‘yes’ before she scooted closer to the table to take her drink. “Thank you.” She thanked him before taking the water and vitamins.
Could it be that Taehyung has changed? Was there a part of him that felt guilt for what he had put her through, and this was his way of making up for it, or was he genuinely showing kindness and concern for what had happened yesterday?
Jiyeon placed a pillow on her lap, resting her hands on it as the two love interests on the screen were close to meeting each other after a long time. She didn’t even notice Taehyung’s eyes on her as she became distracted by the movie, her concentration once again disrupted but this time by the doorbell.
Thinking about it, very rarely has she heard that before. In her stay here, the only guest at Taehyung’s home was Namjoon but no other friends nor family ever seemed to visit. Part of her was curious and wanted to know more but she knew better than to pry in his personal affairs.
Before Jiyeon could go back to watching the movie, she heard Taehyung call for her, so she stood and headed to the hallway.
“Yes…?” She paused in front of him, not quite sure why he needed her here. But then he presented her with a box, along with instructions, but this time it felt more tame; he didn’t said it in a condescending tone nor did he snap at her. But from the little information given to her, the ex student soon understood that they must be going out tonight, and Jiyeon tried not to show it, but, she didn’t particularly felt interested to go out for the evening — she still felt quite exhausted.
Jiyeon unpacked the box once she was in his bedroom and as she took the dress out and inspected it, she couldn’t help but stare at it with a blank expression.
These type of dresses were not for her, no, these were reserved for those it girls she used to see on Instagram or the hot girls in high school, there was no way that she’d look good in this black dress.
Jiyeon was a plain Jane, she wouldn’t do this dress justice.
But it wasn’t like she had a choice, so she put it on and ‘dolled up’ as Taehyung had said, choosing for the safe option of applying some mascara and a lipstick.
She placed all of her belongings back into place, and was about to head to the door but paused when she heard his footsteps, and then finally saw Taehyung entering the room. Did he needed to get ready too?
“I… can’t reach the zipper.” Jiyeon confessed, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “Could you, zip it for me, please..?” She asked of him, before turning the other way, looking down at her feet. “I tried to reach, but I couldn’t..”
— 🎙️
⚠️ tw: heavily implied noncon
“I’m so sorry, Mr Kim!” Sohee stumbled through his office door late one night after a rather rushed knock. “I didn’t mean to bring these home with me, I have no idea what happened.” A bull in a china shop.
Her voice was flooded with concern, practically dripping, although, there was a hint of seduction weaved within.
Which of course, went unnoticed by Taehyung.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair while simultaneously looking up at her. The woman’s hair looked like it was freshly curled around an iron. Dark shadow smoked around her eyes. Bright red lipstick staining her lips. Despite how late in the night it was, her jacket was instead flung over her forearm. Hugging her body was, what most women would call it, a little black dress.
Again, unbeknownst to him: her eyes began to sparkle at the sight of her boss dragging his eyes down her frame. Surely, he was checking her out. With the way his eyes carefully studied her every detail.
His thoughts, on the other hand, were completely consumed by the hostage currently at home under the watchful eye of his friend. To him, Sohee looked like every other woman who would wear that dress, probably wearing it because she was on her way to some date right now, only to find the files right before she left.
But Jiyeon … just what would she look like?
Wasn’t it a popular saying that every woman needed their own little black dress?
Now, tonight would be the night he’d finally see his fantasy come to life. It was perfect. She had to be the one for him, so many signs were pointing to her. Tonight, he’d finally claim her as his.
“Just set them down on the table.” The man finally breathed, going back to half finished document on his computer.
“Oh.. Of course.” Her feels clicked against the floor, followed by a plop of papers, then again clicking as she nearly made her way out of his office.
“Sohee?”
“Yes, Mr Kim?” Hope rose in her tone, spinning back around to face him.
“I needed those papers 53 minutes ago, don’t ever let this happened again.”
Once Jiyeon disappeared from his sight, Taehyung took the takeout in his other hand to the dining room. He set out the food, grabbed out plates and utensils. Picked the perfect bottle of wine. And on his search for the right glasses, he stumbled across some candles — which he eventually lit as the final impeccable detail to their dinner.
Or, well, his beautifully planned, somewhat last minute, dinner.
Floorboards upstairs then creaked under his weight as he wandered into bedroom, growing too impatient to wait for her to come to him.
To say the least, this time he was happy he had lost his patience.
Again, Jiyeon’s voice was just like honey, so golden, sweet, and smooth. Wordlessly, Taehyung walked up to her, but he didn’t follow through with her request. His hands instead placed themselves on her hips.
… Was she teasing him right now, dangling herself in front of him? Wanting him to take her bait?
Fuck seeing the dress. It could wait one more night.
He drew a typical breath in, but still her scent intoxicated his senses. Using the leverage on her hips, he spun her around to face him. Almost immediately, he spotted the dark cherry red of her lips. “I use to believe make up was for desperate,” Then, a hand snaked up to her face. “Unattractive,” His thumb pressed against her bottom lip, smearing the lipstick just slightly. “Whores. But you look...” The man’s head cocked to the side.
But her.. On her it looked so classic, so radiant.
His stare rested on her eyes, the ones that drawn him in since he first caught a glimpse, and while he had her distracted, his free hand yanked the dress down to pool around her ankles. “You said it yourself, hm? You’ve never been touched before, isn’t that right?” His fingers slid down her neck, tracing an artery. “Never had a boyfriend.” They kept trailing down, caressing her bare side. “Never even been kissed until I came along. Isn’t that right, Jiyeonnie?”
His eyes finally dragged down her body, stopping at the sight of his name scarred perfectly into the flesh of her thigh. “It can’t be a coincidence, you and I. You were meant for me.” He thought aloud.
Screw her dress, screw their dinner.
It can all wait.
In a matter of seconds, Taehyung had the young woman tossed and pinned onto the bed, held down by his weight.
“Be a good girl for me, hm?” Kisses trailed up and down her neck, the skin occasionally being pinched between his teeth. “You’re not going to like the consequences.” More kisses trailed across her jawline, turning rougher by the second. “Now, now.” Poor little thing, seeming so frightened. It was her first time after all, but that didn’t mean she could be so disobedient. His palm connected with her cheek, strong enough to stun her. Metal clinking followed before cool leather wrapped and tightened around Jiyeon’s wrists, until the belt dug into her flesh. “Since you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming..” He taunted. “.. We are going to have to do this another way.” One hand pressed down on the leather belt, pinning her wrists to the bed.
The other? It reached behind him, pulling out his treasured blade. Light from the lamps glistened the silver. The sharp tip then grazed against her skin, up her bare stomach, following the pattern of her ribs and chest until it stopped at her bra strap. “Too bad you couldn’t behave yourself, this could’ve been so much gentler.” With those words hanging in the air, he sliced the strap. “Don’t say I didn’t I warn you, little bird.” He taunted in her ear, hot breath tickling her skin.
Her caramel chocolate eyes glistened with tears, widened with fear, sent something primal off inside him. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you’re afraid.”
It was as if he could smell her fear, like a sweet, delicious aroma.
“You don’t need to cry, jagiya. Just relax..” He whispered before capturing her lips in a kiss, forcing his tongue between them to explore every inch of her mouth as if it was his first time all over again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your first time is special.” He muttered against her skin, his fingers disappearing between her legs.
Taehyung’s heavy breathing filled the master bedroom. The smell of sweat and sex hung thick in the air like a fog.
That was … everything he anticipated it to be and more.
“.. Who do you belong to?” The killer growled, not yet pulling away from her. He couldn’t get enough of her warmth, of the feeling of her skin brushing against his. “Tell me, who owns every part of you?”
He only pulled away after he was satisfied with her answer; there was only one correct one after all.
After one last rough kiss, Taehyung finally pulled away, getting off of her. He threw back on his pair of pants before sauntering to the closet, grabbing one of his white button ups and tossing it onto the bed. “Put this on.”
Now it was the perfect time for dinner.
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Two (Harry Styles)
a/n: you guys thank you so much for all the love you’ve showed part one!! 🥺 im so happy you like the story! i wanted to post part two a little later, in the weekend but i got so happy for all the reactions that i decided to move it earlier so here it is! i’ll try to update soon, the longest it will take is one week probably. im working on my thesis and have a lot of school work so please be patient with me! feedback is very much welcomed, as always, your reactions and comments mean so much to me!!
pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader
warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce
word count: 10.4k
SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist
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Pulling Izzy out of daycare dramatically lessened the amount of time she could spend with her friends, so the situation needs extra attention on her socializing. You’ve been trying to take her to the park as much as possible so she could meet with kids her age and Harry has been arranging a lot of playdates for her with her friends from daycare.
When you come back from meeting your brother for lunch on a Sunday, you are greeted with not two, but eight little feet running around the living room, many of Izzy’s toys have been brought downstairs and the coffee table is filled with fruits, snacks and drinks for the kids. You know the two little guests, it’s Yara and Zac, the three of them were like a little gang back when Izzy was attending daycare. Yara’s moms and Zac’s mom are sitting on the terrace, letting the kids roam around freely, Harry is in the kitchen preparing some sandwiches for the guests when you arrive back.
“Hi, do you need help with anything?” you ask, catching his attention.
“Oh, hi! No I’m fine, thank you. How was lunch with your brother?”
“Great,” you smile at him before leaving him to do whatever he has to do.
“Miss Y/N!” Yara greets you, waving in your way while munching on an apple slice.
“Hello Yara, Zac,” you smile at them before walking out to the terrace to greet the parents. “Hi! Ava, Saige, it’s nice to see you again. And Linda, hello!”
“Y/N, hi! Harry told us you might return soon, so good to see you!” Ava greets you as you join them at the table. They’ve been the nicest parents while you were working at the daycare, though you weren’t the only victim of the closed-minded cowards that got you fired. Ava and Saige have faced quite a lot of backlash for basically daring to be a same-sex couple out in the open. You’ve heard many complaints from other parents about how they don’t want them to pick up their daughter together. Apparently, it’s confusing for the kids to see two women to be the mothers of the same child. Ridiculous.
“I was out having lunch with my brother. How have you been?”
“Things are the same, you know,” Saige shrugs with a scowl. “But your firing has got us thinking about pulling Yara out as well.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, it’s starting to get really ridiculous. I mean it’s one thing that we get weird looks, but firing you was kind of the last straw,” Ava nods.
“And how have you been here, Y/N? How is working for Harry?” Linda asks.
“Oh, it’s amazing, really. I love taking care of Izzy, she is so easy to handle and I love seeing her learn and grow. And Harry is a great boss, I got really lucky.”
“Lucky indeed!” Ava smirks, making them all laugh as you feel yourself blushing. “Even I sometimes dream about the man,” she adds, keeping her tone down.
“How do you keep your cool?” Linda sighs. “If I had to live with this man, I would go nuts.”
“Well, Izzy keeps me pretty busy, and he is my boss, so…”
“It’s not like HR would be up your ass if you got involved,” Saige shrugs, taking a sip from her iced tea.
You don’t get to react, the kids run out, taking over the playground, Harry arriving right behind them with a plate filled with sandwiches for the guests.
“Ladies, sorry for the wait,” he smiles, placing the food to the table as he joins your little circle.
“Oh Harry, thank you so much!” Ava sighs, grabbing one already. “We were just talking to Y/N about how big of an upgrade it is for her to work here.”
“Is it?” he asks, slightly surprised as he glances over at you.
“I mean, the paycheck is better and it’s clearly a better environment,” you chuckle shrugging.
“I just don’t know why Claire lets those assholes control the place. She is the boss there, she should stand up against them,” Linda scowls.
“She is just trying to avoid confrontation.”
“No, she is afraid they would stop paying the daycare the money, so she is an ass-kisser,” Saige scoffs, making you laugh.
“Well, at least I have Y/N now to take good care of Izzy,” Harry smiles, his eyes meeting yours and you swear your heart skips a beat when he says that he has you.
“Lucky bastard!” Ava throws her hands into the air, making everyone laugh.
Enjoying the company, you stay outside instead of locking yourself up in your room. It’s nice to see the moms occasionally pick on Harry, they surely like to joke about him being a hot single dad, but he usually just blushes and smiles at the compliments. Linda and Zac leave first, then Ava, Saige and Yara head home as well when it’s nearing five in the afternoon. Though Harry tells you to just leave the cleanup for him, you insist on helping.
“Now I feel bad you are working on your day off,” he huffs as you help him around in the kitchen.
“It’s not working,” you roll your eyes. “I live here too, of course I’m gonna help keeping it clean.”
“You know, if your brother ever wants to come over, feel free to invite him.”
“Might take your word, because he is very curious about the place,” you chuckle. Harry smiles as he starts washing the dishes.
“He is welcomed anytime.”
“Thank you.” Putting away the snacks that was left you start drying the dishes while he is washing them, working next to each other in silence. Unlike his usual attire, he is now wearing just a plain white t-shirt with light-washed jeans. “You’re quite the moms’ favorite,” you tease him, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Saige and Ava like to pull my leg, but I know they mean well.”
“They are great people, I always liked them,” you smile glancing at him.
“I remember when I first met them at a parents’ meeting, they spotted how lost I was among all the moms and asked if I wanted to sit with them. Then Izzy became friends with Yara so we met quite a few times.”
“I find it a little funny we never met while I was working at the daycare. Izzy was in my group for almost a year and we just never ran into each other.”
Harry licks his lips before turning his gaze to you, finishing up the dishes and turning the water off.
“I saw you.” Your eyebrows shoot up. How did you not see him?
“Really?”
“Yeah, just a few times. Mostly it was Ruth who picked up Izzy these past few months. I had a huge project that ended just before you started here, so I didn’t have the chance to pick her up that much. But I saw you a few times. You were just always busy with the kids, I guess… you didn’t notice me,” he shrugs, holding his arms on his chest as he leans against the counter.
“It could get pretty intense sometimes even though it was just a daycare,” you chuckle, remembering to all the tantrums and fussy dramas that happened between the kids. Sometimes it felt more like a high school than a daycare, especially when friends were taken and lovestories happened through lunchtimes.
“Daddy! What are we having for dinner?” Izzy runs into the kitchen, tippy-tapping her hands on the counter that she can barely reach.
“Macaroni and cheese.”
“Yes! Maccy cheese!” Izzy cheers throwing her hands into the air. Harry smiles down at her, ruffling her hair and you can’t push down a smile at what she just called mac and cheese.
Harry starts prepping for dinner, he puts on some music that Izzy dances to and though you try to leave them be and enjoy their alone time, Izzy insists you stay and help as well.
“Izzy, let Y/N do what she wants, this is her day off,” Harry warns her, making her pout her lips at you. Not that you would have said no to her, but now you definitely can’t leave.
“It’s alright. I’m happy to help.”
Izzy sits on the counter in a safe distance from the stove, her duty is to watch the pasta cook while Harry takes care of the sauce and you set the table, knowing it won’t take long for the food to be ready.
“Daddy?” Izzy speaks up, tilting her head to the side.
“Yes, baby?”
“I love Maccy cheese. Does mom like it too?”
Harry’s eyes flicker over to you, as if he is embarrassed you caught a moment that shouldn’t have been revealed and you can tell he is still kind of torn how to handle the mentioning of his late wife. You keep a straight face, making yourself busy with cleaning off the counter top. You wouldn’t want to make him think he can’t talk about Maggie in your presence.
“Um, yeah. Mommy loves mac and cheese,” he nods, giving her knees a little squeeze before moving her off the counter to take care of the pasta.
Your eyes meet Harry’s gaze when you bring some water to the table and you can tell he is still thinking about the slip you just heard, but you give him a soft smile, trying your best to assure him nothing bad happened.
Izzy babbles through dinner about everything she did with Yara and Zac today, excited to see them as soon as possible and Harry promises her to arrange a meeting for them in the park sometime next week. You try to help with cleaning up, but Harry doesn’t let you, so pouring yourself a nice glass of wine you sit in the living room to watch some TV before going to bed. After dinner, Harry takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath and once that’s done she is allowed to play some more in her room.
Harry joins you soon on the couch with a glass of wine as well, seemingly tired from all the socializing he did. Peeking at him while the evening news is playing on the screen, you notice that he is not even paying attention, deep in his thoughts he is pulling on his bottom lip like he always does whenever he is deep in focus. You have a guess what he is thinking about, but you want to give him the time and space to figure out if he is ready to share or not.
“I, uhh—I never really told you why it’s just Izzy and I,” he speaks up and you turn to him with patience, knowing the importance of him bringing it up. “My wife… Maggie, she… We got married about six years ago and then two years later we had Izzy. She was six months old when Maggie…”
He is struggling to find the words, or to just even think about it and you don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you about any of it.
“Harry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, I want to. I always feel bad that I don’t talk about her, makes it look like I’m trying to forget about her, but that’s not at all the case, it’s just… hard to think about how long it’s been and I still feel like it was just… last week.”
Harry sniffles and you’re not sure if it’s because he is getting emotional to the point where he is going to start crying or it’s nothing significant, but you feel the urge to assure him about your support. Reaching over you put your hand to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes first fall to your hand and then to you, a sense of softness shining back from his green irises as he lets out a shaky breath.
“It was a car accident. She was driving home late night from her sister’s and a drunk driver ran the red light, crashed right into her car. They both were rushed into hospital, but Maggie’s lungs collapsed and she… they couldn’t help her. The guy had surgery and though he broke quite a few bones and had a serious concussion, he survived.”
You have to bite into your bottom lip, already feeling the tears welling in your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. You can only imagine what it’s like to be called and find out your wife was killed because of the dumb mistake of someone else. And to think that Izzy was still so small, Harry was left with a baby and the immense grief so suddenly, it must have been the toughest time he had to go through.
“I’m really sorry, Harry,” you quietly tell him, his eyes flickering up to meet yours and they are glistening from the tears. He just nods, blinking a few times before drinking up his wine.
Before anything else could be said, you hear Izzy running down the stairs, soon throwing herself to the couch, cuddling to Harry’s side.
“Hey baby, want to go to sleep already?” he asks, softly brushing through her hair with his fingers. Izzy nods, blinking sleepily. Harry scoops her into his arms standing up from the couch and he is reaching for his empty glass, but you take it before he could.
“I’ll wash it, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.
“Thank you,” he breathes out, holding Izzy tight before the two of them disappear upstairs.
You don’t stay out too long yourself either, washing the glasses you let a single tear run down your cheek before quickly wiping it away and heading up to your room.
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The past two years you’ve been taking gigs as a photographer more and more, going to weddings, birthday parties, baby showers or anniversaries to snap photos of others’ most precious moments. You are not a professional, nor do you treat yourself as one, but the more events you attended and the more work you put out, the more popular you started to get. Now you have about two bookings every month and you are able to ask for a quite impressive amount of money for a session that people are willing to pay for your pictures.
You’ve been putting off your gigs since you moved into the Styles mansion, wanting to focus on all the changes in your lives, but now that you’ve gotten quite used to your new life one month into it, you are getting back to your usual. This Saturday you’re doing a photoshoot of a soon-to-be-wedded pair who also booked you for their upcoming wedding in a few weeks. It’s kind of an engagement photoshoot since they couldn’t do one when they got engaged months ago, but they didn’t want to miss out on the chance to do one before they official tie the knot.
Harry and Izzy are planning to go to the zoo today, something she’s been begging to do for weeks now and Harry finally gave in, so all three of you are going to be quite busy today. The photoshoot takes place at this fancy, mid-century styled café the couple chose, so you decide to dress up yourself a little too. Putting on a maroon colored pencil skirt that hugs your hips and waist tight, you tuck into it a white silky blouse, making you appear like some kind of eyecandy assistant straight out of a Hollywood movie, especially with your low bun, which is less for the look but more for practicality, since you don’t like it when your hair gets caught in the straps of your camera.
Swinging your camera bag to one shoulder and your handbag to the other one, your camera hanging from your neck, you head downstairs, rushing a little because you’re short on time already. Izzy is sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is packing them some lunch and snacks for the day.
“Oh! Y/N, you look so pretty!” Izzy beams at you when you near the corner. She is dangling her legs playfully, her piggy tails curling adorably on each sides of her head. Harry’s head snaps up and his lips part upon spotting you.
“Thank you, Sunshine,” you smile at her, caressing her cheek, tickling her a little that makes her giggle.
“Where are you going?” she asks curiously.
“Izzy, don’t question her all the time, that’s not too nice,” Harry warns her, but you just shake your head.
“It’s alright. I have a photoshoot today. I have to take pictures of a couple that’s going to get married soon,” you explain to her and Harry’s ears perk up, eyeing the camera that’s hanging from your neck.
“I didn’t know you are a photographer,” Harry hums, closing the cooler.
“Well, I’m not a professional, but I’ve been doing photoshoots here and there.”
“That’s amazing!” he smiles warmly.
“Thanks. Well, I gotta go because I’m running a little late. Have fun at the zoo!” you smile, at them before walking out. You reach the front door but stop for a moment to read the text the bride has sent you letting you know they are running a little late as well. That’s when you hear the conversation between Harry and Izzy coming from the kitchen.
“She looked so pretty!” Izzy sighs. You expect Harry to just hum or ignore her words, but for your surprise, he answers her.
“Yeah, she really does.”
You blush like a teenage girl, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest as you smile, walking out of the house.
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The father-daughter duo is still out when you get home later. You make yourself a tea and sit out to the terrace with your computer, starting to edit the photos right away so you can send then over to the couple as soon as possible. They turned out pretty good, you love the colorful vibe the café had and it went well with the pair’s outfits.
You get so into editing that you don’t even notice Harry and Izzy arriving home, just when the sliding door opens and Izzy runs up to you, holding a stuffed animal that appears to be an otter.
“Y/N, look what daddy got me!” she cheers holding up the toy.
“Oh my god, it’s really cute!” You pull her to sit on your lap as she hugs the toy, clearly happy to have a new addition to her already existing army. Harry walks out with a bottle of water and a glass. Joining the two of you at the table, he pours some water for Izzy and makes her drink it.
“We spent an entire hour watching the otters,” he chuckles, brushing Izzy’s hair out of her face as she chugs the water down.
“Can’t blame you, they are really cute,” you chuckle. Izzy puts the empty glass down and hops off your lap before announcing that she is gonna show her new toy around in the backyard before running away from you.
“Are those… the pictures from today?” Harry shyly asks, eyeing your laptop’s screen.
“Oh, yeah. Wanted to get a headstart on editing,” you nod turning it so he can have a better look. “Want to see what I got so far?”
“Of course!” he nods smiling.
You click through the photos you’ve already edited, there are about ten in total and you’re quite satisfied with how they turned out to be.
“Wow, they look… really good, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” you smile blushing a little.
“What events do you usually do?”
“Mostly weddings and engagement shoots, birthdays, these kinds of stuff.”
“It’s really amazing,” he nods smiling.
“I… Hope you won’t be mad but I’ve shot a few pictures of Izzy too these past weeks,” you admit, hoping he won’t get upset for you, doing it without his permission. “I didn’t use them anywhere, I wasn’t planning to, I just thought they were nice moments.”
“Oh, can I see them?”
“Of course!”
Opening up the folder you put her pictures into, you start clicking through the few photos you took of her. There’s one of her during her swimming lesson, laughing happily as she holds onto the edge of the pool, her wet locks sticking to her head. Then there’s one when the two of you were baking cupcakes and she got icing all over her face and tried to lick it off, her tongue sticking out on the picture. There are some of her just roaming around the backyard, exploring the bugs hiding in the grass, some of her napping with her favorite stuffed animals on the couch and then the last one was taken when she was jumping in her bed, you caught her up in the air, the widest smile on her face as she was laughing straight into the camera.
“Y/N, these are… wow. They are all so good, I love them!”
“Really?” Your smile grows wide, happy that he likes them.
“Yeah! Do you think… do you think you can send them to me?”
“Of course! I can get them printed for you, if you’d like. There’s a place where I go to get my photos printed, they make them look like they were taken on an analog, old school camera, I love that little extra touch on the pictures.”
“That would be fantastic,” he smiles, clearly in awe of your work.
You spend the rest of the afternoon editing while Harry and Izzy take over the kitchen as usual. When you’re on your way up to your room with your laptop after you decided to call it a day, you catch them in there, Izzy making Harry dance around with her while they are chopping the veggies. Harry is swaying his lips to the rhythm, humming to the song as Izzy is jumping and twirling around, singing from the top of her lungs. Despite the terrible loss of her mother, there’s no doubt Izzy is having the best possible childhood, getting all the love she deserves from her dad and you feel happy you are here to witness them grow together.
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You did not see your parents’ divorce coming, probably because it’s been over six years since you’ve moved out and you only saw them every other week at best. You always tried to come around as often as possible, wanting to spend time with Trevor and of course, them as well, but you had to focus on building your own life. You had to worry about your work, your own living space and not much later you started dating Keith so you were pretty busy to say the least. You weren’t there when things started to go downhill, but Trevor was. He had to suffer through every fight and screaming match they had without any support and you’ve always felt guilty about it, but you couldn’t just move back home. However you’ve always tried to do everything you could to support him through these hard times. He knew he could call you anytime he had enough of the spiteful atmosphere at home and you were quick to come to his rescue.
You were mad at your parents, there’s no need to lie about it. But not because of getting a divorce, you knew better than to expect them to suffer in a marriage they weren’t happy in, but the way they handled has always been just… unacceptable. Especially because in the midst of their anger and hatred towards each other they started to forget that they still had a kid living home who had to listen to everything they threw at each other, things no son should ever hear about his parents, no matter if they were true or not.
Being a teenager in high school is stressful enough as it is, but having to deal with your parents’ nasty divorce is just something no teenager should have to go through. Trevor has been dealing with it for a while now and he is trying his best to just shut them out whenever they are going at it, but sometimes it’s not that easy. That’s when he seeks comfort at you.
It’s a Thursday evening when your parents decide to drive Trevor up the wall with their screaming and fighting again. You’re watching a movie with Izzy and Harry in the entertainment room, working on your laptop simultaneously, confirming some photoshoots for the upcoming weekends. Harry has let Izzy play with his hair while watching the movie, so now she is all over her daddy, decorating his hair with little hairclips and hair ties while the man is just sitting there without a complaint.
Your phone starts buzzing on the couch and Trevor’s photo is flashing on the screen. Putting the laptop aside, you grab your phone and walk out of the room not to disturb them with your call.
“Hey!” you greet him happily, but your stomach immediately drops when you hear him draw a shaky breath on the other end of the line. “Trev? What’s wrong?”
“Can I please spend the night at yours?” he pleads weakly.
“What happened, are you alright?” you perk up right away.
“It’s just… dad came over this afternoon and they went at it again and now they are doing it over the phone, mom is like really out of her mind right now. I have a math test tomorrow and I don’t think I can sleep here like this. She is still screaming at him over the phone.”
“I’m leaving right now, pack a bag, alright?”
“Thanks,” he breathes out and ends the call. Rushing back into the entertainment room Harry turns to you while Izzy is still busy with his hair.
“Uh, I know it’s really sudden and all, but my brother just called, would it be fine if he spent the night over here?” Even though Harry himself told you it’s fine to have people over, you still feel like you need to ask for his permission, especially if your guest is planning to stay the night.
“Is he alright? Of course he can come over.” Sitting straight up he asks Izzy to sit down a little which she gladly does, turning her attention towards the movie.
“It’s just, um, our parents are having another scream match. They are… They are in the middle of getting a divorce and they are not handling it right,” you let out a bitter chuckle.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Do you need me to come with you? You seem very upset, you sure you can drive?”
“No, it’s alright, but thanks. I’m fine. I’ll be back soon with him and thank you so much for letting him stay,” you breathe out. He just nods with a sympathetic smile before you turn around and leave.
Through the drive over to the house where you grew up your anger just grows with each turn you take. You love your parents to death, they raised you in a quite unusual and hard situation, they had to grow up with you when they had you so young, but they always made sure to give you everything you needed. And you know they have the same kind of love towards Trevor, but their hatred for each other is blinding them and they probably don’t even realize how much it affects him, but you are not letting them ruin everything because they fell out of love. Trevor deserves the same kind of supportive and loving environment to grow up in just like the one you had and there’s nothing that could change that.
Pulling up to the driveway you take a deep breath as you march up to the front porch and use your keys to let yourself in. The shouting hits your ears right away, it’s coming from the kitchen, but Trevor is the first one you spot on the top of the stairs. His hood is on and he has a backpack in his hands as he comes down the stairs with a pained and tired face.
“Hey! Left the car open, go get in there, I’ll be out in a minute,” you softly tell him as you give him a quick hug.
“Thanks,” he mumbles before walking out.
Following your mother’s voice to the kitchen you find her with a half empty bottle of wine, cussing your father out through the phone.
“Go and fuck that bitch you went out to have dinner with last weekend! Yes I know about that!” she spats and you wince at her words.
“Mom!” you call out, but she doesn’t even register your voice.
“Fuck you, Fred! Fuck you!” she continues, so you raise your voice a little more.
“Mom!” This time she finally hears it and turning around she looks at you with wide eyes.
“Y/N! What are you doing here? You didn’t say you were coming,” she adds, her voice soft and weak this time, the anger long gone from it.
“I’m here to pick Trevor up. Put dad on speaker, I want to have a word with you two,” you tell her firmly and she gulps hard, nodding as she sets the phone to the counter, putting your dad on speaker.
“Y/N? What’s going on?” you hear him question from the other end of the line.
“I could ask the same thing!” you snap back, fed up with the way they have been acting. They might have lost a good chunk of their youth because they were busy taking care of you after having at just nineteen, but that doesn’t give them the right to act like literal cavemen in front of your brother.
“Trevor called me all upset, begging me to come and get him. What is wrong with you two? You have been at each other’s throats all the damn time, it is not healthy not just for Trevor but to either of you!”
“Y/N, sweetie, there’s just a lot going on—“ your mother tries to explain, but you cut her off.
“I don’t fucking care! Whatever is going on between the two of you, Trevor should be first! No matter what! He needs you both, he needs the support and love, but he is only getting the screaming and fighting. This is not right!”
“It’s a hard situation, you have to be patient with us, Y/N,” your father sighs over the phone and you can’t hold your ironic laughter back.
“Patient? I’ve been patient with you these past about five months since you’ve been literally tearing each other to pieces. Do yourselves and everyone else a favor and just get it over with. Dad, pick up all your stuff and don’t come here for mom’s sake. Mom, don’t snoop around dad’s life, because it’s not your business anymore. Stop being ignorant and maybe start to think about the kid you still have living near you.”
Your words might have been harsh, but it needed to be said. You can tell by your mother’s shocked expression and from the way your dad is dead silent in the call that your message finally hit them in the head and you hope they are willing to get their shit together so Trevor doesn’t lose his mind.
“Trevor is staying with me tonight, we’ll see when he wants to come back, but you better think about what I just told you,” you warn them before walking out and leaving them to think about their actions finally.
Trevor stays silent on the road back to Harry’s and you don’t try to force him to talk, it’s clear he has had enough for today. Arriving back home you park your car next to Harry’s Range Rover and the two of you walk inside in silence.
It’s past Izzy’s bedtime so you’re not surprised to find only Harry in the kitchen when you walk into the house. Harry seems cautious, almost worried as he spots you and Trevor in the hallway.
“Trevor, this is my boss, Harry. Harry, this is my brother, Trevor,” you introduce them to each other quickly. They shake hands with a manly nod.
“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight,” Trevor clears his throat, feeling a little out of place.
“No worries. Feel free to use any of the guest bedrooms,” Harry smiles softly.
“Oh, we’ll be fine sleeping in my room,” you assure him but Harry shakes his head at your words.
“We have plenty of space. Please, use them!”
“Thank you,” Trevor mumbles and you shoot Harry a thankful look before walking your brother upstairs.
You opt for the room next to yours, Help Trevor get comfortable, making sure he has everything he needs for the night.
“Did you get into a fight with mom and dad?” he asks, when you are sitting on the edge of his bed, about to leave him alone.
“I just told them to get their shit together,” you chuckle, giving his leg a squeeze under the covers. He cracks a smile at you, but it’s not as genuine as it should be. “I’ll drive you to school in the morning. My room is right next to this one, come over if you need anything, alright?”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, pulling the covers up to his chin.
“Good night, Trev,”you tell him switching the lights off and walking towards the door.
“Good night, Y/N,” he calls after you before you close the door, letting out a long breath.
As you make your way down to the kitchen you see that Harry is still there, his eyes snap up to you, filled with concern and worry.
“Everything alright?” he asks as you make yourself a tea.
“Yeah, he was just fed up with the constant screaming. I can’t blame him, my mother didn’t even realize I was there until I raised my voice at her.”
“I’m sorry about that. Must be hard dealing with high school and a nasty divorce.”
“It is,” you sigh. “But thank you for letting him stay, really.” “I meant it when I said it’s just as much your home as it is ours. He can come over anytime, don’t worry about that,” he shrugs.
“Thank you. I’ll drive him to school in the morning, but I’ll be back by the time you leave, is that alright?”
“Of course,” he smiles warmly. “You two look a lot alike.”
“We get that a lot,” you chuckle. “It’s the eyes and nose shape, I think. We got those from our mother.”
“People say I look like my sister too, but I don’t really see it, if I’m being honest,” he chuckles lightly.
“Yeah? Why?”
“No idea,” he shakes his head laughing. “I just don’t see it, but I couldn’t tell you really.”
Sipping on your tea you stay in the kitchen with Harry, the light conversation about his sister and eventually his mother eases the stress that has been gripping on your chest from the encounter you had with your parents earlier. You’re not sure if he tried to talk you through it because he saw how much you needed the distraction or if it’s just how he is, but either way, he really helped you to relax.
Cleaning after yourself the two of you head to bed, saying good night to each other before disappearing in your rooms.
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“This place is like… really huge,” Trevor sighs in awe when the two of you are eating breakfast together the next morning.
“I told you, it’s a mansion,” you chuckle, digging into your oatmeal. “I’ll show you around next time you’re here.”
“T’was nice of Harry to let me stay,” he hums.
“Mhm, he is a cool boss,” you smile at him.
“And kinda handsome…” Glancing at Trevor you see the sly smirk on his lips and you give him a stern look.
“Stop right there, alright? No funny thoughts!”
“Funny thoughts?” he laughs leaning back in his seat. “I just made a statement that he is a nice looking man, that’s it. Do you not agree?”
“I’m not commenting on the topic,” you diplomatically answer.
“On what topic?” Harry appears from the stairs, making you both turn his way. “Good morning,” he smiles warmly.
“Morning!” Trevor nods his way before he turns back to you, still smirking. You narrow your eyes at him before answering Harry.
“The topic doesn’t matter. Morning, Harry!”
He pours himself some coffee that you brew earlier before joining the two of you at the dining table. He strikes up a conversation with Trevor, asking him about school and his future plans once he graduates and luckily, Trevor is on his best behavior despite the comment he made earlier, he is not trying to put you into an uncomfortable situation. He knows better, because if he upsets you now, he will not be returning to the mansion, that’s for sure.
“Alright, get your stuff, we are leaving in five,” you tell him when both of you are done eating. Nodding he disappears upstairs as you take care of the dishes quickly.
“Is he staying tonight as well?” Harry asks, following you into the kitchen.
“Oh, no. I’m sure mom wants to talk to him after last night, so it’s better if he goes home.”
“Hope things will get easier for him,” he smiles and you return it, thankful that he let him stay here when he really needed a place for himself.
“Thanks for everything, Harry” Trevor smiles at him when he arrives with his backpack.
“Of course, come back soon, but under more peaceful conditions,” he chuckles nodding in his way.
“I’ll be back soon!” you call out before walking out of the house with your brother.
“So how long have you been crushing on your boss?” Trevor asks in the car and your eyes widen as you try to keep the car straight in the lane.
“Excuse you?”
“Come on, Y/N. It’s kinda obvious, you swoon at everything the man says, haven’t seen you this soft since your high school graduation,” he chuckles, finding your reaction quite entertaining, but you’re not enjoying the situation that much.
“I do not have a crush on Harry,” you shake your head laughing, but you can’t ignore the knot in your stomach at your own words. Was this that big of a lie?
“That’s too bad because I think he has a thing for you too,” he shrugs, carelessly staring out the window, like it’s that casual to discuss you and your boss having possible feelings for each other.
“When did you become an expert on these stuff?” you huff, glancing at him shortly before turning back to face the road.
“I’m not an expert, but I’m not blind either. And I saw the way he looked at you.”
“What way?” you scoff.
“Like he is thankful you are walking this Earth.”
“Did you take this from a rom-com on Netflix?” you tease him, but he just shrugs. “Of course he is thankful, I’m helping him with his daughter. It’s not easy being a single parent and I’m helping him immensely. But there’s nothing else behind that.”
“Sure, good luck convincing yourself,” he sighs when you park the car down at his school. “Thanks for the ride and the night too. I’ll call you later.”
Leaning over the console he gives you a quick hug before hopping out of the car and walking towards the main building.
Arriving back home you find Izzy sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal on her lap, watching her favorite morning cartoon, but no sign of Harry and for a moment you get scared you got back too late, but then you realize he wouldn’t leave Izzy home alone.
“Hey Sunshine, did you sleep well?” you ask, caressing her rosy cheek as you join her on the couch.
“Mhm, what are we doing today?” she asks, showing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
“You have French class today with Lyon and in the afternoon I thought we could learn about otters. You seemed to like them a lot at the zoo.”
“Yes! They are so cute!” she cheers happily just when you hear footsteps coming from the stairs. Turning around you spot Harry walking towards the living room, but your lips part immediately when you see that he is putting on another shirt, his naked chest on display since he hasn’t buttoned it fully. What you saw not long ago from your balcony is now so much closer, the swallows peeking out from under the shirt and you see the little cross pendant hanging between his pecs, something you’ve only seen if he pulled it out of his shirts which didn’t happen that often.
Harry stops in his tracks when he sees you on the couch with Izzy and a blush paints his cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know you were back,” he breathes out, his fingers working fast on the buttons to get himself presentable again though you wish he would just get rid of the whole thing… “Izzy spilled some juice on me so I had to change quickly,” he explains, finishing with the buttons and he quickly fixes it so he looks just as spotless as always.
“You poured too much into my cup!” Izzy defends herself furrowing her eyebrows at her dad.
“Of course it was my fault, who else’s would have it been?” Harry huffs as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Y/N, I have something to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
“I know it’s pretty sudden and on a very short notice but could you maybe look after Izzy tonight? Niall called me and begged to meet up with him for a few drinks. I would call Ruth, but she is out of town this week.”
“Oh sure! No problem,” you smile at him.
“Are you sure you don’t have anything to do? Don’t feel pressured to say yes, I should have asked in advance, it’s just—“ “Harry, it’s fine. I’m okay looking after her tonight,” you assure him before he talks himself down from letting you do it. “Go have fun, you barely get out of the house without Izzy.” If you’re being honest the only place he goes to without his daughter is work and it’s a little saddening, he deserves some time out from his daddy duties.
“Thank you,” he smiles at you with gratitude. “I won’t be out too long, I promise.”
“No worries, have fun with Niall,” you wave in dismiss.
“Thanks. Have a great day. Be good, baby. I’ll see you in the afternoon.” Harry kisses Izzy’s forehead before grabbing his suit jacket, wallet, keys and phone and heads out to start his day.
“Alright, daddy is off to work and we also have a day ahead of us. Come on, let’s get started,” you smile at Izzy who nods in agreement.
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Harry swears he didn’t come home earlier than his usual because he feels bad for asking you to cover the evening, but you know that’s a blatant lie. He is home by three and frees you for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you with about two extra hours. He informs you that he would be leaving around seven, so dinner time will still be his duty, but you’ll have to put Izzy to bed at her usual time, which works perfectly for you.
A little before seven Harry disappears to take a quick shower and get changed before heading out, while you sit out in the living room with Izzy, reading her from a book she chose after dinner.
When Harry returns, he is dressed more casually than he usually does for work, wearing a pair of beige slacks and a black shirt tucked into it, the first three buttons left undone, showing just a hint of his tattooed chest for the viewers.
“Okay, I just called a car, it’ll be here any minute. Please call me if anything happens, I could come home anytime.”
“Harry, I take care of her all day, I’m sure we’ll be fine for one evening as well,” you chuckle, trying to ease his nervousness about leaving his daughter home at a time he is not used to.
“Right,” he lets out a soft chuckle. “Thank you again. And Izzy, be good. Y/N will put you to bed tonight, but I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”
“Okay!” she sings, completely fine with the new arrangement.
“Alright, see you soon, good night!” he calls out on his way out of the house.
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Sitting at the rooftop bar, Harry and Niall take up a small table for two near the railing so they have a nice view of the city below them. The waitress brings their order, tequila on the rocks for Harry and a good pint for Niall, and the latter man can’t ignore the fact how pretty she is in her tight white shirt and short black skirt, smiling coyly at the men as she asks if they want anything else.
“We’re good for now, Darling. Thank yeh,” Niall smirks and even winks at the woman, who is seemingly enjoying the attention from him, but deep down she would be happier if it was Harry who was trying to flirt with him. However he is busy on his phone, typing out an email even at this ungodly hour, which pisses his friend off.
“Would you stop being a workaholic prick and maybe glance at the woman that wants to fuck the shit out of you?” Niall snaps at him, grabbing his attention, but he just rolls his eyes.
“That would require my interest as well, which is not there.”
“That’s fucking sad. Really, mate. How long are you going to act like a crybaby? I’m getting tired of your long face. I get it, shit happened, but you eventually have to move on.”
Harry tries to ignore his words, eyes glued to the screen of his phone hoping his friend would just drop it, but that’s not what Niall is like. So instead of leaving him to be, he grabs his phone, snaps it right out of his hands and then shoves it into his pocket.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” he growls at his friend who just gives him a hard look.
“Harry, I’m worried about you. You do nothing, just work and be with Izzy.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t spend time with my daughter?” he asks twisting his words.
“You know that’s not what I mean. Spend as much time with her as possible, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.”
“I’m taking care of myself. I sleep and eat well and I workout regularly. I don’t see what else I might need.” “Fuck. You need to fuck,” he points out, making Harry roll his eyes again.
“You know, sometimes I question why we are even friends…” Harry grumbles under his breath as he takes a sip from his drink, feeling like he definitely needs the alcohol if Niall is gonna pick on him all night.
“Because I’m the one who pushes you out of your pit of sorrow, m’friend. And right now I feel like I need to step in, because you are turning into a bitter old man.”
“I’m not bitter,” Harry narrows his eyes at him.
“And neither are you old, so why are you acting like you are?”
“Look, I know that you are a fan of the bachelor life, going to parties, sleeping around with any woman you can get, but that’s just not for me, it never was, not even a long time ago.”
“I’m not trying to get you to act like a frat boy, Har. I know you are too soft for that, but I think it might be time for you to, I don’t know, open up a bit.”
“Open up?”
“Yeah! Go out, meet new people, preferably women,” he adds with a knowing look. “It’s been more than three years, Harry. You can’t stay at home and mope around forever.”
“I really don’t think we should be having this conversation right now.”
“If not now, then when? I tried to talk to you about it many times, but you always just dodged it, so I gave you more time to adjust to the situation, but I think we are over that,” Niall sighs, leaning onto the table. “We both know time flies by. Soon Izzy will go to school, she’ll have her own little life and before you could even blink twice, she is gonna be a teenager, barely talking to you, only caring about some boyband, her friends and shows. The time will come when you’ll have to step back a little and I don’t want you to stay alone.”
“First of all, Izzy is 4 and she won’t be allowed to even think about being independent until she is twenty,” Harry starts off as Niall rolls his eyes at him.
“Yeah, sure. You’ll have an amazing time when she becomes a teenager.”
“Don’t even talk about her being a teenager.”
“It’s going to happen!” Niall snaps and Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Okay, let’s just calm down.” He takes a deep breath even though he is the only one getting mad right now. Harry might feel uncomfortable, but he is not one to lose his temper that easily. Niall on the other hand is known to be a little too passionate at times.
“Alright. Please know that I’m just trying to be a good friend. What happened is tragic and I can’t even imagine what you went through, though I was here all along so I have a slight guess. I’m happy that you are doing vehemently better now, it’s amazing, but I know that you’ll be miserable if you stay single forever.”
“I’m not gonna start dating, Niall. It’s just… too soon. I can’t get into a relationship now.” Harry shakes his head, gulping from his drink again, the alcohol burns down his throat as he grimaces shortly.
“I get it that you don’t want a relationship, but dating might not be that bad. I’m pretty sure there are some hot single moms you know who would love to go out with you for dinner or some shit.”
“I’m not interested in any of them,” he shrugs.
“Then what about Y/N?” Harry’s eyes snap up at his friend, flexing his jaw out of instinct.
“What about her?”
“She is pretty, nice and funny, completely your type. Why don’t you try it with her?”
“She works for me,” Harry replies right away.
“No one fucking cares,” Niall scoffs. “And because you didn’t say that you don’t like her, I assume you are into her.”
Harry lets out a heavy sighs shaking his head. You’ve not been the only one who’s been noticing the other. Ever since he has caught you watching him while doing his morning yoga, he couldn’t shake the thought of you and he took a special notice about a lot of things about you. Like the way you scrunch your nose every time you smile when Izzy says a word wrong, or the way you like to put up your hair into a ponytail when you’re playing with her in the backyard and there’s always a tiny strand that hangs lose at the back of your neck because it’s too short to reach up to the ponytail, but his favorite thing is how your voice is a little hoarse in the morning when you come down for the first time from upstairs. The thought that he is always the first person you talk to in the morning just brings this pleasant feeling into the pit of his stomach, something he hasn’t felt in a long time.
He can’t deny that he finds you beautiful either, how could he not? You’re just a wonderful person inside and out and he is thankful his daughter is in such good hands when he is away at work. But he hasn’t dared to think further than this, his mind just doesn’t let him, however Niall’s words are now poking at the sleeping giant.
“Stop assuming things,” Harry mumbles, looking away from his friend, feeling like he is being grilled.
“Stop denying things,” Niall retorts, earning a huff from Harry. “Okay, don’t ask her out just yet, but try to get closer to her. Become friends, try to open up and get to know her a little more!”
“I don’t want to get closer to her!” he replies, but he can easily point out how big of a lie that is, even though he is trying his best to make himself believe that it’s not.
“So you don’t have a crush on her?” Niall raises his eyebrows at him.
“Where are we, in middle school? I’m 31, I don’t have crushes,” Harry scoffs.
“Okay so then you don’t mind it if I ask her out?”
“You are not asking her out, Niall,” he sternly replies, reaching for his drink once again, that’s nearing its end very closely. He needs to order another one if Niall decides to be an asshole all night.
“Why not? He seemed to like me when we met, I think we both would have a nice evening, might even take her home—“
“Shut up, Niall. You are not going out with her!”
“Really? What’s stopping me?” he smirks, knowing well what he is doing and where this is heading. Harry opens his mouth, but then no words come out, because he realizes what he wanted to say should not be said out loud.
Because I like her, a tiny voice tells him in his mind. Niall’s smirk grows even bigger, because even though Harry didn’t answer, his face tells it all, confirming what he has been trying to force out of him all evening.
“Yeah, just as I thought,” he laughs, taking a few gulps from his beer. “I’m not telling you to fuck her brains out immediately, but it might be nice if you just got to know her a bit more. And if things seem to take, like… a turn, if you know what I mean, don’t chicken out, just go with it.”
“You know, Niall, you should worry about your own love life the way you worry about mine.”
“There’s nothing to worry about!” He beams, clearly without a worry. “I’m too good of a catch to be tied down, so I’m enjoying life to the fullest right now.”
“Aren’t you tired of waking up next to a different woman every morning?” Harry sighs, feeling exhausted just to think about the way his friend lives.
“Don’t judge for something you never tried. I like it, it fulfills all my needs, why should I change?”
“Because you worry about me ending up alone when it’s most likely gonna be you.” Harry gives him a look, but it doesn’t seem to affect him. He shrugs it off easily.
“Difference is that I like being alone, but you don’t. You are wired to have a partner in the long run while I’m perfectly fine with my adventures. So do me a favor, and be less of a little hermit. You’ll thank me later.”
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Niall’s words stick to Harry’s head more than he would have liked it. The two friends stay at the bar until about midnight and while Harry leaves to go straight home, Niall heads to another direction with the pretty waitress on his arm, who served their drinks relentlessly all night.
Arriving back home Harry tips the driver generously before heading inside, seeing that you’re still up, the lights in the living room and the TV illuminating the area. Walking further inside he spots you cozied up on the couch, a thick blanket thrown over yourself as you watch some kind of detective documentary, chewing on your bottom lip in focus. He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips at the sight of you, taking just a split second to savor the moment and wrap it up in his mind.
“Hey, why are you still up?” he questions walking inside. Your eyes tear away from the screen, blinking up at him as you smile slightly, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Rounding the couch Harry joins you, sitting down as he runs a hand through his hair.
“Got caught up a little,” you chuckle, nodding your head towards the TV. “Did you have a good time?”
“As much as it’s possible to have a good time with Niall around,” he chuckles, making you smile.
“He is not that bad, is he?”
“He can be a little asshole sometimes,” he admits. “But it was fine, we had a nice… talk.”
“I’m glad,” you smile sheepishly, before turning back to the TV.
Harry’s eyes snap to the screen as well, but he is not following the case at all, his mind is busy thinking about everything Niall has told him.
It really has been three long and torturous years without his beloved wife and just as Niall said, the beginning of this time was almost lethal. He never thought there would be a day when he would wake up and not feel like curling up into a ball and just cry all day. Those times are now gone, because with a lot of help from his friends, family and even a therapist, he was able to find his purpose in life again: his daughter.
Harry knows that his friend is right, he can’t live his life on his own, that’s just not how he is built, but it’s not as easy as it seems. Especially with the haunting thoughts he has been harboring, kept away from everyone in his life, because he has always been too afraid to say them out loud. That would make them become even realer than they already feel to him.
Sitting on the couch next to Harry you glance at him for a second and can almost see the gears turning in his head.
“Everything alright?” you softly ask. His green eyes flicker over to you, as if he is debating whether he should talk or not.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” you nod.
“But it’s kind of personal.”
“Okay, then ask and I’ll decide if I want to answer or not,” you chuckle softly, pushing yourself up a little so you can focus on him better.
“After things ended with your… ex, when you found out that he was cheating on you… How long did it take you to get back out to the field, if you know what I mean.”
His question surprises you, it really is a personal matter and you’re not sure why he felt the need to ask you about it especially now, but you have a guess why it’s relatable for him. You lost someone you loved and though the situation is a very different nature, somehow it’s still similar in a way.
“Well, I told you earlier that it was the kind of situation where I blamed myself for what he did,” you start off and Harry nods, patiently and curiously listening to what you are saying. “I was convinced that he cheated because I wasn’t enough, because I didn’t give him everything he wanted and that it was all my fault. It took me weeks to see clearly and realize that even if I wasn’t giving him everything, it wouldn’t have given him the right to cheat on me. Sometimes it’s really hard to lift the blame off yourself, especially when you were the one putting it there.”
Harry’s lips part at your words and because he is not speaking, you’re not sure if it’s the good or bad kind. You really wish you could just read his honest thoughts, but it seems like he is keeping them to himself so you continue.
“I think it took me a good, like… four months to actually move on. I went on a date for the first time about six months after Keith and I broke up. I’m not saying I’m over the fact that I was cheated on, but it’s not stopping me anymore to live my life. I had to accept that just because of what happened, I still deserve happiness and to be loved.”
Love is a beautiful thing, but it’s very powerful and you learned it the hard way. To love and be loved is essential, love makes life so much better and more special, but it can also scar you terribly and leave you dried out and in pain. You have to learn to accept the love you get and remember it whenever you are not getting enough. It’s a rollercoaster, but the highs make the whole ride worth it.
Harry stays silent as you turn your attention back at the TV, seeing that he is busy chewing on your words. Whatever his reason was to ask you, he is clearly processing the answer he got, making his own conclusions and you wouldn’t want to bother him while he does that.
The documentary soon ends and you realize how late it really is. Saturday is your day off, but you don’t want to sleep through the whole thing, you have a few errands to run. So switching the TV off you fold the blanket and drop it into the basket next to the couch. Harry snaps out of his thoughts when you stand up from the couch, realizing that you’ve shut the TV off already.
“I’m going to bed, you should too,” you smile at him softly as he nods, standing up as well.
You’re already on the stairs when Harry calls out after you. Turning around you keep one foot on the next step, glancing over at him, still standing by the couch.
“I’m… I’m really sorry he couldn’t appreciate you.”
You smile at him warmly, because it says so much about him as a person. Apologizing for something he had absolutely no control over, something someone else did, someone he doesn’t even know. Yet he still felt the need to say sorry.
“It’s alright. I’ll find the person who’ll give me the love I deserve,” you tell him before turning back around and walking away.
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995 notes · View notes
in-ky · 3 years
Text
An Old Scent [2] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)
Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.
Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, angst, age gap, Negan, a bit of gore if you squint
A/N: ok so everything is written i'm just gonna stagger posting a little bit :') 2.7k words
The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Great. My heat was starting up again. Growing up, Bee always asked why I never went on suppressants. I always got a bad vibe from them. Then, a few years ago, a large brand got recalled because it was shown to cause cancer in a lot of different patients. Now suppressants were harder to come by, more regulated, and needed a doctor's prescription. A lot of omegas took the hit hard, but out of it came an influx of at-home ways to take care of your heats by yourself. Super helpful for a single girl like me. When my heats started to get really bad around my junior year of high school, Bee took me out on a shopping spree and got me a bunch of toys to try and satisfy myself. It worked for a while, but they got worse as the years passed. By my age, a lot of omegas were already claimed and had an alpha to help them through their heats. I was still relying on the toys Bee had bought me. The box was tucked neatly under my bed, waiting for me. I rolled over with a small groan and sighed. The heat wouldn't be in full swing for another few days or so, so I could still go to the courthouse with my dad. Speaking of, I heard Rick shuffling down the hall and slid out of bed, gathering my bathroom stuff and walking out of my room into the small tiled room to start the day.
~~~
"So you weren't at the garage on the night of the eight?" Negan hummed, leaning against the railing in front of the tv. His eyes were glued to the face of the man sitting on the stand. The poor guy was drenched in a nervous sweat, tight blue shirt sucking at his chubby neck. He swallowed thickly and leaned forward to the microphone.
"That's correct," he croaked.
"Oh, Jeremy," Negan chuckled, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Don't you know perjury is a criminal offense?"
"I-I'm not lying!"
"Is that so?" The alpha held up the remote to the TV "I have some footage here that directly contradicts your story, man. One last chance." He wiggled the remote teasingly and raised his eyebrows. Jeremy held his ground. "Alrighty then, let's see what we have here." He took a step back and furrowed his brow at the remote and pressed a button. The screen in front of him came to life. I had to lean forward in order to see the video, but in reality it wasn't the security tape I was watching. It was him. I couldn't look away. He had dominated the room for the past hour and a half. His deep voice was never raised, but it still carried a commanding tone that had every person sitting on the stand shaking in their boots. My eyes trailed down his body. His suit clung to him in every perfect way. His hair was slicked back in its iconic style and the way his glasses perched on his face made my insides burn. Part of me regretted seeing him like this so close to my heat, but another part couldn't imagine if I hadn't. Rick leaned over and tapped my elbow.
"We've got him now for sure." He whispered in my ear. A smile formed on my lips as I nodded to him. There was a child-like joy on his face. He really did appreciate my presence. I turned my attention back to the video screen. The footage was fuzzy, but there was a clear figure of a woman standing still hunched over what I presumed was her phone. She was texting away, fingers flying over her screen. Suddenly a large figure, who had the same height and build as Jeremy, slunk out from the shadows. He slowly approached the woman from behind and raised a crowbar high above his head. He swung it down with brutal force. There were small gasps of horror from the jury and the crowd as the crowbar connected solidly with the woman's head. She collapsed in a heap, but Jeremy didn't stop beating her until she was a pile of mush. Negan clicked the TV off.
"Well, shit, Jeremy," He boomed "I do in fact think you are lyin' to me." He tossed the remote down on his table top and gave a grim scoff. "Everyone just saw you turn poor Miss Parker's head into your personal punching bag. You still wanna claim you were no where near there?" All of the color had drained from Jeremy's round face. He swallowed again, tugging at his restricting collar. But soon, his face turned a deep shade of pink and he slammed his beefy palms on the flat surface of the box he was sitting in.
"That bitch deserved it!" He howled, gasping for air. "She had no business-" He stopped when Negan raised his hand silently.
"I really don't care," He sighed, turning around and grinning broadly when he saw the defense team resting their heads in their hands in defeat. "I'll let the jury do the rest, your honor."
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Smith." The judge said, voice prickling with annoyance. Negan returned to his bench and pulled out his seat. But before he sat down he gave Rick a small thumbs up. And I could have sworn that he flashed me a little smile as well.
~~~
"You were incredible in there!" I cheered, giving Negan a high five. The contact made my skin tingle, but I passed it off as the consequences of the impact. "You really made that guy tremble like a kid!"
"It's what I do," Negan chuckled deeply. He looked around me and furrowed his brow. "Where's your dad?"
"He's pulling the car around," I said "I just figured I should let you know how good you did before I leave." He was so close. He smelled so good. The same combination of whiskey and campfire that could get me drunk in a few breaths. I was so focused on his intoxicating musk that I didn't notice the group of alphas that were headed our way. Negan did, though. I heard a rumbling from his chest and felt a hand clasp around my shoulder. Confusion clouded my mind and I looked up to him for some answers.
"The next case is starting soon," He said smoothly "Let's go wait for your dad outside." I agreed and he steered me out onto the steps of the courthouse. The short skirt and heels I was wearing weren't exactly comfortable for walking down stairs, so I held onto Negan's forearm as he guided me down to street level. There was a small breeze and I saw his jaw tense as a soft gust of wind swirled up from behind me and into his body. It no doubt carried my scent on it, and an alpha like Negan could probably tell what state I was in.
"So," I sighed, looking to engage him further "What's next?"
"Well," He tilted his head and ran a hand over his bear-covered chin. "Jeremy goes to jail. Your dad and the department get praise. And I get to go to the bar for a celebratory drink." He paused for a moment, looking me up and down quickly. "You want to join me?" I opened my mouth to say something. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. I didn't really drink, but I was willing to do absolutely anything that Negan wanted. But it was then that Rick rounded the corner and gave the horn a little honk.
"I would love to," I settled on "But dad has a full day of father-daughter fun times planned, and I don't really want to keep him waiting." I gestured awkwardly to where Rick was sitting in the car, bopping his head gently to incoherent music.
"Totally understand, doll." He grinned.
"Maybe another time, though?"
"For sure."
"See you around, Negan."
"Bye, doll, have fun. And be safe"
~~~
Negan was pleasantly buzzed, as per usual. He got off his motorcycle and hung his helmet on the handlebar before lightly stumbling into the house from the dark garage. The sight he saw he did not expect. There sat his fiancé in the living room, arms crossed over her chest with a pissed expression on her face. And beside her was a woman he knew all too well.
"The hell is goin' on here?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.
"I could ask you the same thing, Negan."
"Lucille, what the fuck is she doing in our house?"
"Oh, so you know her?" Lucille growled. Negan just licked his lips and flicked his gaze between the two women sitting in front of him. "Of course you do. You have been fucking her after all." Negan groaned, rubbing his eyes.
"Baby, please-" He started, but Lucille cut him off.
"Don't you dare," She hissed, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists "You don't get to call me that after what you've done, Negan. You slept with another woman. Hell, maybe more than one. You ruined our relationship." Negan took a step forward but Lucille raised her hand and pointed to the kitchen table. "Don't take another step. Your stuff is in that box." Negan looked to see a cardboard box sitting alone in the dark kitchen, his belongings poking out of the top. "I never want to see you in my house again."
"Lucille, can't we just talk about this? You don't understand." He pleased, extending a hand to her. She batted it away.
"There's nothing to talk about." She spat "You cheated on me, Negan! What is there to understand? How can you expect me to forgive you for that?" A moment of silence passed between them. The other woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Negan glared at her before turning his eyes back to his now ex-fiancé.
"I have no where to stay." He whispered.
"That's not my problem." Lucille said boldly "Take your shit and leave. Don't come back. We're done."
~~~
I stirred the pot of spaghetti while humming a song I heard on a radio earlier. The father-daughter activities had consisted of driving around town and revisiting old spots we used to go to when I was younger. We got ice cream at the shop down the street and then watched the sun set at the park that we used to picnic at. It was nice. College did really fix our relationship. The TV in the next room hummed quietly and Rick was talking on the phone with someone. I heard him hang up and walk into the kitchen.
"Think there's enough in there for three?" He asks with a sigh, looking over my shoulder.
"Should be, why?" I return, meeting his gaze. He takes a deep breath and scratches his neck.
"Um, well, Negan's fiancé kicked him out of the house. Apparently she found out he was cheating on her. He doesn't have anywhere to stay." He mumbled "He's gonna be sleeping here for a bit." I stopped stirring. The water started to bubble too close to the top, but I blew a gust of air to push it down.
"Why here?" was all I could muster.
"He really helped me with your mom. It's the least I can do."
I just hummed in acknowledgement and returned to my cooking. So Negan was engaged. And he CHEATED on his fiancé? Maybe I didn't know Negan as well as I thought I did...
~~~
"I just can't believe she kicked me out!" Negan seethed, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth. He was still chewing when he continued. "She didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!"
"I hate to say it, but you did cheat on her, buddy," Rick said carefully, not wanting to poke the angry alpha in the wrong way "She's upset."
"I was in a rut." Negan growled.
"For four months?"
I was making a plate for myself, listening to the conversation from across the room. Rick's phone buzzed on the kitchen table and he picked it up.
"Sorry, I have to take this." He sighed, shaking his head and standing to his feet. He left the room and suddenly it was just me and Negan. I took my plate to the opposite head of the table, watching Negan wolf down his dinner.
"This shit is really good, sweetheart," He groaned. Normally, the noise would have sent me over the moon. But there were so many other emotions clouding my mind. "You ever consider changing your major to culinary arts?" I didn't say anything, just twirled my fork in my serving of pasta.
"Why'd you do it?" I said quietly, almost in a whisper. Negan paused instantly.
"What?"
"Why'd you cheat on her?" My eyes never left my plate but I could hear him shifting in his seat, rubbing his face while trying to answer my question.
"I don't know," He said. His voice was soft, sincere. Something I had never heard from him before. My eyes drifted up and met his. They were the same tawny color, but there was something else behind them. Something I couldn't distinguish. "I thought...Something was off in our relationship. I guess I thought that I could fix it by trying something different. I ran into Tanya at a bar a few months ago. She's a beta, just like Lucille. Wanted to be with an alpha. I gave in. Just for a quick fuck, didn't mean anything. I didn't like her. I told her that but...she...she wanted more, I guess. She fucking threatened me. Threatened to ruin my life unless I kept seeing her. I chose to do it. I don't know if that decision was the right one or not but it's the one I made. I texted her last night to tell her it was over. Never fucking thought she would come to my home." I was chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time he was speaking. I didn't know how much of his story was true, but he sounded like he was hurting.
"Why did you break it off?" I whispered.
"That's your damn question?" He scoffed, giving a short smile. He looked in my eyes. I knew the answer. Or at least I thought I did. He opened his mouth, but Rick reentered the room before he could say anything.
"Alright, sorry about that guys," He said, slipping back into his seat. "What did I miss?"
~~~
Negan was set up in the bedroom next door to mine. Our doors faced each other from across the hall. We would have to share a bathroom. Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, but with my heat starting I wasn't too sure about the whole arrangement. I felt more cramps riddle my body. I was ready to bed, ready to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but something called me across the hall. Curiosity got me and I turned slightly, walking up and leaning on the doorframe. There was Negan, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, unpacking his things.
"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turned around. He looked older like this, hair unkempt and his glasses on. When he saw me his lips curled in a smile. Any trace of vulnerability I had seen earlier was now gone.
"Hey to you."
"I just want to apologize for earlier," I said "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry that you have to be subjected to me and my dad for the foreseeable future." He let out a snicker and shook his head.
"Don't worry about it, doll. And you're not that bad. I appreciate Rick; he's a good man." He scratched his beard and looked over at the clock next to the bed. "It's late, you should get some rest." He took a deep breath and I nodded. I turned to leave but he called my name softly. "You know I meant what I said last night, you are looking good." I smiled but didn't say anything and crossed the hall, shutting my door and hopping into bed.
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rudystopit · 3 years
Text
Looking for Someone
[aizawa x f!reader]
summary: aizawa is a PI looking a missing person. he notices a young women looking around the places the missing person was last seen. he starts following her.
warnings: nsfw, eating out, brat/tamer, unprotected sex, and overstimulation. 
wc: 5k
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He sat inside his car. He would never the noticed the nasty smell of rotting food and his own body order. Old coffee cups, fast food wrapping and Chinese take out littered his passenger seat. He sat deep into the seat with a camera to his face.
He took pictures of a 19 year old girl, walking down the street. See that sounds weird but Aizawa Shouta is the best PI in the lower boroughs. His greasy hair is always tied up and his scuff leaves unshaved until he found it annoyingly long. He never seemed to smile. He always working on some case and buried himself his work.
This case was a missing college junior. Her black hair and deep brown eyes are plastered all over the city. The host parents contacted him after the police said it was likely she was dead. he never liked the police, that’s why he never became one after high school.
He clicked a few more photos of the girl before exiting his car to follow her. Her hair bounced as she walked down the busy street. She had been visiting the last places the missing girl was at. A small cafe, an old bodega, a drug store, and a bookstore. She had been down here five times in the last three weeks. She ordered the same green tea and walked to the other places. Aizawa figured out her name is y/n l/n. she’s a student at the local college. Art major. She had some pretty good pieces in the local art show last year.
He followed her into the cafe. She ordered her tea and walked to the other end of the cafe. She pulls out her phone and scans the cafe. Her deep e/c set on his. She smiled and went back to her phone.
“Black coffee,” his deep, raspy voice rang out. His eye contact never leaving the young woman’s figure. He soaked in every inch of soft small body. Her eyes darted over the screen.
“She’s pretty, right?” The young kid on the other side of the counter said. This snapped Aizawa out of his daze. “She’s been coming here more often. I hope she’s single,” the kid laughs, looking at the young woman. “$3.50”
He gave the kid a five and walked over to the other side. Her tea was done and she thanked the worker and walked out the cafe. His coffee was done a few seconds later. He didn’t want to lose her so he swiftly walked out as she quickly turns around and runs square into his chest. Her hair smelt like vanilla and it was softer than what he imagined. She backs up and apologizes profusely. She asked to buy him a new drink and grabbed napkins to clean off the tea and coffee.
“It’s fine, I need to shower anyways,” he jokes. She looks at him not laughing. after awhile of silence, she checked her watch.
“Shit, I’m late, I’m so sorry again,” and with that she was off.
Aiwaza climbed back in his nasty car and drive. She doesn’t know anything. It’s just a coincidence. He went to a small diner on the outskirts of the city.It was an old ma and pop diner with the old red paint and faded sign saying “jersey’s.” The ring above the door rang to announce the new arrivals. He sat in the old booth by the front windows. A woman in a yellow dress uniform walks over.
“Good morning, Shouta,” the young woman’s voice rang. He smiled and looked at her. “The usual?”
“Good morning Anne, yes, Ricky in the back?” He asked.
“Sure is. we were just joking that we were gonna put a ‘Shouta Special’ on the menu,” she laughed, scribbling down his name. Ricky knew what that meant. Black coffee, eggs, hash and hot sauce.
“Ha, no one wants what I eat,” he laughed as Anne walked into the back. Aizawa pulls out a notebook and a case file. He flips open his notes to scribble off Y/n’s name.
The pencil hovered over the beautiful name. Something about her perfect hair and shining eyes that put a weird feeling in his chest. She feels familiar to him yet also new. He had felt this before but never this intense.
There are never coincidences in this line of work.
He looked over his papers and shoved the food into his mouth. Anne sat down in the other booth. She liked watching him and today was slow and the other waitress said she needs the tips.
“So Shouta, tell me about this one,” she said.
“Missing person,” he mumbled scanning over the papers. His face stayed in a scowl and his eyes were dull until he thought he found a clue.
“Sometimes it helps thinking out loud,” Anne said, pulling the papers out of his face.
“Saito Yui, she’s a college student. Straight A’s. Pre-med. She’s top of her class. Barely parties. No boyfriend. But she misses Saturday brunch with her family. Then misses a hang-out with her friend, then classes on Monday. Police say she left. There’s no evidence that she was taken. No enemies. No stalkers and she never got on any one’s bad side,” he says. “There’s this girl though. She’s been in all the spots that Yui was before she went missing,”
“Do you think she knows something?” Anne asked, leaning in.
He pulls out his camera. He clicks through the photos and turned it to her. She took the camera in her hands. she looked at it with focus. Like she was trying to read her.
“I hope she’s innocent,” Anne finally said, handing the camera back. Aiwaza looked at her puzzlingly. “She pretty and has a lot to live for.” Anne always knew what to say, even if it wasn’t correct. She slides out of the booth. “See you tomorrow Shouta,” she waves and disappears into the back.
He looked back at his notes. The only connection between Yui and y/n was that they had a class together on Thursdays. Intro to sociology. He decided he would go and sit outside the class and wait for her to come out.
He watched the college kids walk around him. A lot of them didn’t notice him and the ones that did shot him a dirty look. The wide doors open and a young woman comes walking out out in a tennis skirt and a pull over with the college name printed on the chest. Aiwaza watched as she walked away. Her h/c bounced with each determined step. he leans off the wall and makes his way to her.
“miss l/n.” she wipes around and stares him down. her eyes held such intensity, it took aiwaza back. “i have some questions for you.” he says.
“aren’t you the guy from the cafe? are you following me?” she beginning to walk away from him. he reaches out and grabs her soft wrist.
“please it’s about yui saito,” his grip tightens as she pulls away.
“let go creep,” she spat. “i barely know the exchange student. she lived in my dorm, that’s all i know,” and she turn away.
aizawa sat on a bench and pull his head in his hands. “god i know this job is hard but i know she knows something.” he mumbled to himself. he got up and walked to his car. the young y/n was leaning against it on her phone. he walks up to her.
she looks up at him. he unlocks the car and climbs in hoping she was gonna move. she opens the passager side door. he looks at her with a questioning look.
“you’re right i know more but i wasn’t gonna tell you in the middle of my college campus,” she says with her attitude. he moves all the trash to the back seat and she jumps in. “your car reeks,” she says rolling down the window and pinching her nose.
“shut up brat.” he pulls out of the parking lot and goes to jersey’s.
“do you want to know what i know?” he glared at her. “then be nice,” the whole drive y/n was staring out the window. she watches the old victorian buildings turned small business fade into the american suburbs to a ratty diner in the middle of nowhere.
“jersey’s? never heard of it” she says sliding out of his car. she stretches her arms and heads to the door. aiwaza glares at her as she walks in and talks with anne. she shows her to his usual booth and pulls aiwaza aside.
“she’s way pretty in person,” she laughs. her tone drops to a serious one quickly, “reminds me of someone,” aiwaza knew exactly who she was talking about.
about 10 years back, he was working a case and meet a spunky accountant looking for something fun to do. she somehow became a target for some under organization and sadly she didn’t make it. but aiwaza had ready fallen in love with her. how her brown hair flowed in the wind as she always rolled down his windows. or how she always insisted that if he wasn’t going to dress professionally that she was. and she stuck to it. always wearing pencil skirts or dress slacks. aiwaza missed her but the woman sitting in front of him definitely had her attitude and curiosity on life.
he stay there and watched y/n look threw the menu. she mumbled to herself and pointed at some names. she twitches her nose and scrunches it up as read the descriptions. Anne comes over and takes her order which was just a plate of fries.
“are you sure?” anne asks. y/n just nodded. “black coffee i’m guessing?” she looks over at aiwaza.
“yeah,” he lets out. anne rushes away. “what do yo know,”
“well i was going through her stuff and i saw a necklace from this weird jewelry store downtown and it’s 100% a cult. i think they took Yui,” aiwaza sighed and leaned back.
“i know and they didn’t. i talked to them and they said they remember her buying the necklace but she didn’t join their pray list.” he rubs his eyes and looks at the woman.
her eyes looking over every inch of him. he felt his cheeks heat up a little. he pulls his hands on the table as she about the grab them anne comes with her food and his coffee.
“her host family said she didn’t seem like the type of girl to just leave without telling anybody,” he said bring the cup to his mouth.
“do you shower?” she asks in such a cheery tone. aiwaza chokes on his coffee and coughs. “maybe that’s why your not married,” she takes a fry into her mouth. “because you stink.” he hears anne laughing behind him.
“i shower and i’m not married because i don’t have time to meet anyone,” he glared at her.
“well the waitress seems to know you really well. you should ask her out,” aizawa’s cheeks gets red.
“shut up brat,” he puts down some cash and starts to get up.
“i’m sorry, please let me help you,” she asks.
“no,” he makes his way to the door.
“please! i promise i can help!” she follows him.
“no, do you need a ride back or can you walk?” he asks before getting in his car.
“yes i need ride. and i’m sorry for asking if you shower and saying you stink. please i want to help you. i’m really smart. i can help you,” she begs.
“fine,” he says driving back to the school. y/n talked the whole way about things she noticed about yui saito. like one time at a party she didn’t even drink or how she always showered super early in the morning.
“what’s your name?” she asked before getting out.
“aizawa,” he answers, staring at the students watching a young woman get out of his car. his cheeks flushed at the thought of what they were thinking.
“aizawa,” the way she says his name. silky smooth and he wished he could hear it again. “aizawa!” she yelled. he snapped to look at her.
“what brat?” she held her phone out. he took it and quickly punched in his number. He hands back the phone. She quickly sends a little hi.  
“I’m guess you already know my name, but I’m y/n,” she smiles and walks away.
Aizawa drives home and flops onto his couch. He stares at the ceiling and thinks about  today’s weird events. he thought about her h/c and how her eyes sparkled with curiosity. she is a smart girl. she beautiful in every sense of the word.
he didn’t even realize his hand slide down his pants. he was hard. he let his hand drift up and down the outline of his member. he thought about y/n’s voice and how she said his name. he thought about her spunky personality. his hand slips into his boxers. He closes his eyes and thinks about her small hands and pink lips. his hand moves across his hard cock. he inhales as he picks up the pace. he thinks about how soft her lips would feel against his. he thinks about if she was virgin and how tight she would be. his hand quickens. light moans escape his lips. he thinks about how she would look on her knees. he imagines her sucking him off. he clenched his jaw as his cum rolls down his knuckles.
he gets up and washed off his hands. his phone buzzes.
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he rolls his eyes and opens the message.
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he rolls his eyes and tosses the phone onto the table. he liked the little banters. he liked how she’s willing to speak her mind. he turns on the tv and flicks through the channels. NCIS. sure yeah not. he goes and makes himself a small dinner and sits at the table looking over the papers for the case.
‘yui didn’t seem like the girl to just leave without telling anyone,’ the host parents said. maybe she did tell someone or at least write a note. y/n said she went into her room. he wonders if she found something in there besides the necklace.
aizawa didn’t go to bed till early in the morning. so waking up and going to deal with the ever so cheery y/n was going to be a fun treat...
he threw on a tattered black t shirt and some jeans. his jet black hair pulled into a messy ponytail. the bags under his eyes could have held a weekend vacation worth of clothes. he got into the nasty car and drove to the cafe.
he saw her standing outside on her phone. her thumbs texting away. he was always so amazed at how fast teens can type. he got out and walked over to the distracted y/n.
“let’s go in,” he says in his deep raspy voice. it makes y/n jump slightly. his voice sends a shiver to the butterflies in her stomach. she follows in behind him. he orders his coffee and waits for y/n to order. he looks over his shoulder at her. his dull eyes looking into her bright ones.
“oh umm a chai tea,” she said walking closer to him. her shoulder brushes up against his. he looks down at her. her eyes dart around the cafe. she soaks in the area and walks to the pick counter.
“what did you find?” he asked while they wait for y/n’s tea.
“oh, yui used to write poems in her free time. one of them talks about a heart broken girl dropping everything and moving to colorado and starting new. she mets a wonderful man and they feel like they’re living the dream until one day he gets violent.” the guy calls out her name and she goes to get the tea. she drops her sleeve for her cup. she bends to get it, completely showing off the light blue panties. aizawa coughs and turns away. “sorry,” she says and sits down, “why is your face red?”
“nothing,” he shakes his head. “how is that a clue,” he watched as she brought the hot cup to her lips. she slowly sipped on it so she wouldn’t get burned.
“do you look at my underwear?” she laughs. “i knew you were an old creep,” his face drops into a scowl.
“shut up brat,” he said through gritted teeth.
“it’s fine, i don’t mind,” she said, scrolling through her phone, “here. i think she wrote that poem about him,” she shows him a picture of a 23 year from her school. he has his arm around yui’s hip. “that’s henry. they were seeing each other at the beginning of the semester, but one day yui comes in with a huge bruise on her arm and people asked he what is was about and she just answered with some vague thing like ‘oh i fell’ which is totally bullshit,” she takes another sip of her tea. “wanna try?”
“no i’m good,” aizawa answers. “do you think henry hurt her and she left to get away from him?” he watched as she typed something out on her phone.
“hm? yeah totally. i mean if i was getting pushed around by some frat boy i would totally disappear too,” she looks him square in the eyes. a little hue goes to aizawa’s face. “are you sure you don’t want to try it? you look like you only drink bitter sludge and gross greasy food for every meal,” she leans across the table.
“i’m serious. i’m fine with my bitter sludge,” he laughs. she smiles.
“i like it when you laugh. it’s calming,” she says. the phrase comes as a surprise to aizawa.
“aww you got a crush on an old man like me,” he says getting up. “come on kiddo.”
she gets up and follows. “maybe i do,” she whisper to herself.
“stop mumbling,” he says waiting at the door. they walk across the street to his car. “did the poem say anymore?” he asks unlock the car.
“i don’t know. i only got through a few when i texted you,” she said getting into the passenger side. she didn’t have her smile. he looks over at her. she stared out the window. her eyes didn’t have the spark of curiosity.
“what? are you mad at the joke? i’m sorry,” he said, started the car. she picks up her phone and quickly typed out a message and it sends with a bing. she rested her arm on the window and leaned her head against it. “y/n. seriously what happened? you were all jokes and laughing seconds ago.”
“it’s nothing, aiwaza.” with that he stopped asking. they drove in silence to his apartment. she followed him up the old stairs and he unlocks the green door. “cleaner than the car,” she laughs and flops herself on his couch.
“i guess make yourself at home...” he throws the keys on the table. he opens his laptop and looks up yui’s name. her twitter came up and he read through her poems.
‘even when he would yell
i would think about those mountains
how i could easily get lost in their trees.
how even if i never made it home,
the mountains would be there.
then i’m reminded
even the mountains can hurt me.’
“not the best one she’s written,” y/n says standing behind him. he’s snapped out of daze. she was leaning over his chair. her hair tickling his neck. her breath prickling his cheek. she smelt of vanilla.
“i wanna see you do better,” he sneers.
“hmm, your car smells like,” she brought her finger to her chin. “trash and you’re pretty much ash, and i think you have a rush, but your snash comments don’t bother me.” she laughs.
“haha real funny brat,” he rolls his eyes and looks about at the computer. y/n still laughing at her little poem. he reads through some more poems.
“did you ever check the ct tv camera or whatever?” she asks sitting on the couch again. “isn’t that like the first thing to do?”
“i did,”
“and?” she looks at him. he’s not looking at her. he was reading the poems and looking through pictures. y/n stands up and walks to him. she gets close to his ear and whisper “and?” his large hand covers her face and pushes her away.
“there was nothing,” he said as she scowls are her. he gives her a side glance. she was mad at him. “what?”
“you’re rude,” she huffs.
“what you wanted me to kiss you?” he laughs and looks back at the screen.
“maybe,” she mumbles.
“stop mumbling,” he says, not breaking away from the computer. “if you’re gonna say something, make sure i can hear it or else what’s the point in saying it.”
she moves to him. she yells “I SAID MAYBE YOU RUDE OLD MAN” he stops and his face goes pale. he swallows a hard lump. his heart is beating in his ears. y/n’s face gets all red. “um, sorry i’ll leave,” she starts to the door. tears fills her eyes.
aizawa gets up to stop her. he grabs her wrist. “don’t joke like that,” he pulls her close to him. “but please stay,” he wipes her tears.
“it’s not a joke,” she whispers. she looks up at him. he’s eyes soften. he kisses her forehead. she leans up to kiss him on the kiss but he moves away.
“i’m old enough to be your dad,” he goes back to the computer. she sits on the couch and goes on her phone.
“you cant be that old,” she says, breaking the silence. he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t want to ruin something as precious as her. “45?” he doesn’t answer. “50?” she gets up and sits across from him. leaning on her hands. she narrow her eyes. “23?” he looks up at her with a ‘really?’ look. “i know, i know, guess give me an answer,” she whined.
“no,” he scrolled along.
“40?” she says. still no answer. “100?” no answer. “fine i’ll look you up.” he looks at her. “aizawa... shit... what’s your first name?” she looks around for another with his name on it. she sees a pile of mail on the counter. she quickly lunges toward it. he gets up to stop her.  she grabs a piece before he could stop her.
“y/n!” he yells.
“what no brat this time,” she sneers. she looks at the piece. he tries to snatch it way. she leans against the fridge. he quickly grabs it and raises it above his head with the rest of his mail. “give it back!” she yells and jumps for it.
“it’s my mail!” he laughs. she grabs his collar and stands on her tip toes. she reaches for it. he places his other hand on the fridge to keep his balance. “stop y/n! you won’t get it!”
“i’ll stop when you tell me how old you are!!” she says trying to climb him.
“stop being a brat. i’m not going to tell you how old i am,” he smiles as he watches her try to get the mail.
“make me,” she stops and looks him in the eye.
“you’re playing a dangerous game, y/n.” he puts the mail on top of the cabinets and walks away. she instantly start climbing on the counter. he grabs her hips and pulls her done. he bear hugs her. “STOP IT!”
“NEVER!” she bites him. he lets go, “just tell me how old you are.”
“jesus, fine, 41,” he sighs and sits on the couch. she sits next to him.
“that wasn’t so hard now was it,” she laughs.
“you’re an absolute brat,” she leans her head on his shoulder. he puts his head on top of hers. her hand plays with his hand. tracing each vein and knuckle. she laces her fingered with his. he doesn’t pull away. all he does is whisper “please y/n, we can’t-“ she cuts him off by kisses his cheek.
“we’re two consenting adults. why can’t we,” she whines. she shifts to sit in his lap. she laces both hands together. he tries to control his breathing. he looks over every inch of her body. she just looks down at him. she leans down and kisses him. she puts his hands on her hips. her arms snake themselves around his neck. he breaks away.
“are you sure?” he asks.
“yes,” she breathes out. she leans back down and kisses him. his hands travels up her shirt and he undoes her bra. she pulls away and strips off the shirt and bra. he starts kissing down her neck, leaving red and purple marks. one of his hands moves to grope the soft flesh of her boobs. y/n arcs her back against his hand.
aizawa shifts and flips her onto her back. he gives her a quick peck then he leaves trails ok quick little kisses down to the waist band of her skirt.he wraps his fingers around the fabric and looks up at her. y/n nods.
“use your words bunny,” he says kissing her stomach.
“yes, please,” she says, tangling her fingers into his hair. aizawa pulls off her skirt. he smiles at the light lacy panties. he slowly slides them down. he kisses the bottom of her stomach. y/n’s hand yanks the collar of his shirt. he quickly takes it off. she sits up and creases every inch of his body. she soaks in all the little scars and muscles. he grabs her wrist and kisses the top of her hand. he leaves a trail of kisses down her arm and to her mouth.
y/n puts her hand back on his chest and pushed him back. she straddles him. she leans down and gives him light kisses everywhere while her hand slowly drifts to his pants. she rubs the forming bulge. he sucks on his teeth. she smiles down at him.
“damn you too good for me,” he whispers.
“damn right old man,” she laughs. he rolls his eyes and sits up. he pulls her closer. her clit grazing over his jean covered dick. she moans into his ear.
“fuck,” he whispers. her hands drive in between her legs and undoes his jeans. he chuckles. “so impatience,”
“shut up,” she sneers. he picks her up and brings her to his bed. he tosses her down. he pulls down his pants. “hmm boxer briefs guy,”
“i’ll leave..” he says. she laughs and pulls him onto her. they kiss and his hand makes it’s way to her heat. he spreads her folds. she moans into the kiss. he smiles. he drags his middle fingers from the bottom to her clit. y/n rolls her hips to his touch. he rubs small circles into the bud. she smirks under him.
“aizawa please,” she moans.
“shouta,” he whispers. his finger hovers over her entrance.
“hmm?” she looks up at him. he slides his finger in. she moans and grips onto the bed. he  kept his hand still, feeling her clench around him.
“my first name,” he whispers. she thinks for a second and opens her mouth to say his name, but he starts moving his fingers causing her to moan it. she hits his arm.
“you purposely did that,” she pouted.
“so what if i did,” he leans down. y/n can feel his breath on her ear. “i want to hear it again.” her face gets all flushed. he moves his finger at a slowly pace. after awhile of little mewls and light breathing moans, aizawa slips his ring finger in.
“shouta~” she moans out.
“that’s it, good girl,” he picks up his pace. she continues to moan. aizawa kisses her collarbone and attaches himself to her boobs. his tongue expertly swirls around her hardened buds. her hands tangled in his hair. she feels the knot in her stomach come undone as she comes on his fingers. he pulls them out and looks at them. she looks at him.
“don’t,” she says. he’s eyes flicker at her. “please don’t,” he smiles and sticks his two fingers in his mouth. he closes his eyes and moans.
“mmm sound good,” he teases. she throws a pillow at him.
“you suck,” she whines. he lays down on top of her and kisses her. she wraps her arms around him. he slides his hands down and brings her legs up. she wraps them around his waist. he sides his hand down his underwear and brings his harder dick out. he teases her entrance before pushing the tip in. she moans into the kiss.
“fuck you’re so tight,” he hissed into her ear.
“what? ever fucked a college student?” she laughs. until he slams his hips into her. she cried out in pain. “god, your a lot bigger than you seem, shouta,” she moans his name which makes him want to fuck her into the bed.
he pulls out them slams back in. “you better take it with out complaints. you’re the one who’s been asking for it,” he says threw gritted teeth. she does this breathing moan that sends him over the edge and into an absolute feral mindset. he holds himself up on his elbows and just pounds y/n into the bed. her moans turn into screams of pleasure as her legs squeeze around his waist.
the knot in her stomach reappears and she clenched around his dick. “fuck y/n, beg to come you fucking slut,” he groans out.
“shouta please.” he trusts even deeper. “fuck. god please shouta let me come on your huge dick,” she whimpers out, feeling the knot in her stomach snap.
“omg yes, y/n,” he moans as her pussy clenched around him. her beautiful moans escape her lips as her face shows nothing but euphoria. her pussy sucks him in, clenching around him, trying to milk him. he lets out a grunt as he paints her velvety walls white. he weakly thrust a few more times before collapsing next to her. he pants as she rolls over and puts her head on his chest. his large hand pets her hair as she falls asleep in his arms.
He whispers to himself,  “you’re the one I’ve been looking for,”
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mrskurono · 3 years
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REPOST FROM MY NON WRITING BLOG title: breakdown of break through || Kageyama Tobio x fem!Reader a/n: again, a repost from my real old blog I just got tired of going back onto it to find this when I wanna comfort binge it. So I’m just posting it here for easy access for myself word count: 3k tags: fluff, friends to lovers ish trope, timeskip!Kageyama, adults enjoying two (2) beers with a meal, unedited character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq) synopsis: Tobio arranged for you to come pick him up when he came back for a visit. His plane was early. You were on time. Suddenly you’re eating a meal with his family like your back in high school all over again. This time though he finds the words he couldn’t before.
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Through break down or black out that name lit up on your phone like none other.
Tobio.
Now though you were getting a slough of texts. Phone humming in your hand. Giving you no time to look at the messages and look for the black haired man in the crowded airport. Once more you glanced up at the gate number knowing it was the right one he told you. Where was he then?
Fed up finally you skip past all the texts just to call him. Only a single ring on the other end and you spoke before he had a chance, "Where are you?"
"What?"
"Where are you?" You repeat into the phone a little sharper than intended, "I'm at the gate I thought you were going to get off?"
"I'm already off, I'm at my place I thought-"
"Oh my god when did you land then?!" Huffing you were about to hang up and find the incriminating texts that said when his flight got in. Of course you didn't because Tobio stopped you.
"I told you when I left things were early so I'd be landing about two hours before and we didn't have a layover." Tobio's voice pauses on the other end as you groan loudly into the phone speaker to let him know how displeased you were. "Wait, where are you?"
"I'm at the terminal you idiot!" With little care for anyone looking at you like the mad woman screaming into your phone that you were, "Where are you already?!"
"My place I told you! Are you going to come over or not?!"
"W-What?" You stop a second like you didn't hear him, "What?"
"I said are you coming over? I thought we were going to hang out."
Not what was agreed on. In fact you intended to pick him up and the idea of hang out was maybe you'd grab a bite to eat then that be it. You hadn't seen one another in, oh well, it had to be two almost three years now. Sure you texted each other almost every day. With regular facetime happening weekly. The idea of seeing each other face to face though. It left your stomach tight and a bundle of nerves a little less than understandable. He was a big shot volleyball player now. Being friends with a celebrity felt weirder to you than you cared to admit. You thought if maybe just a lunch and then he could go see the guys things would be alright. Instead now he was asking you to come hang out at his place all of a sudden.
"What?" You echo yourself for a third time like he asked.
"I told you to come over! I thought that's what we were gonna do!"
You swallow the lump in your throat as you grip your phone tighter, "Wait- What about the others and Shoyo I just thought-"
"Just come over already."
Undeniable click on the other end when he hung up. No second to dispute it in the moment. You wanted to hang out. You really did. But something ate you. Nerves. Maybe this was a bad idea. What you had going was perfect and seeing each other for the first time in years seemed like you were going to ruin something. Unsure what there was to ruin. You two were friends. This white knuckled grip on your phone seemed silly. But why wasn't it going away?
Shaking the nerves out like you could simply whisk them away. You pocketed your phone ready to still yell at him for mixing up such a simple schedule and making you go to the airport like an idiot.
Last time you recalled being at Tobio's place was for a going away party. Of course his own because his mother threw it and all of the volleyball team and tagalongs were included. It was fun last time, with everyone that is. Yachi and Kiyoko to be with, you really enjoyed yourself the last time you were here. But now you wondered if you could have just as much fun without all your friends around to buffer you.
One might mock the twenty something year old for keeping his stuff at home. Repeatedly Tobio asked why would he move when most his time was spent in Germany. He came home to see family and friends anyways. Keeping his things there only made more sense.
Finding yourself wrapping your knuckles on the Kageyama's door after you finally made it to where he was and not the airport. It took but one wrap to be greeted by the setter in a heartbeat.
"Tobio!" Your eyes widen, having to actually tip your head back to look at him. Was he this tall last time you saw him, "Your- Where is-"
"My mom's out with my sister. You missed that cry fest already," His blue eyes roll to the back of his head only for a second. Followed by a cheeky smile. An actual smile crossing his lips as he looks down at you for a moment. Perhaps realizing he really was looking down at you, "It's uh..."
"Been a while?" You feel the tips of your ears getting warm.
This was stupid. Utterly insane.
You saw him almost every week on the screen of your phone. Why was this so much different? Why couldn't there be someone else here to buffer this for you.
"Two and a half years since you came and saw me in Germany," Tobio palmed the back of his head with that crooked smile on his face wearing a hole in your heart.
You look him up and down, still in athletic gear like it was all he owned. Actually that was probably true. He was shit at figuring what to wear so Tobio just opted for brand loyalty of anyone who gave him free stuff. Those athletic shorts a testament to that fact considering you at least tried to wear something nice and clean to pick him up at the airport he decided to leave from.
"What the hell is with you not telling me you left early!?" Snapped back to the indignance you felt at the airport and the drive over, you cross your arms with a peeved look.
"That's not true!" He dug into his pocket for his phone. Quick to shove it in your face of your text conversation last night. Tobio pointing out the text he explained poorly as an early flight. You couldn't focus in the seconds following when the fresh scent of his familiar deodorant hit you.
It'd been so long. You'd forgotten how much you loved the way he smelled even when you were in school together. To think it still made your chest as tight as it did back when you were teenagers. Almost enough to make you not notice your name in his phone.
There, tacked onto the end your name was a heart. A double take in order. That was until Tobio realized you weren't looking at his text. And right away he yanked his phone away from your view. Cheeks dusted with red as he fidgeted and tried to push his hair back off his face to no avail. Absorbed too much in his phone you hadn't realized his hair was wet as well. Explaining why you could smell his familiar deodorant so easily. He'd obviously taken a shower.
"You took a shower like I haven't seen drenched in sweat?" You break the forming ice between the two of you in an attempt to not let it get any worse. Even if your ears feel as hot as the sun. Your attempt seems to ease something between the two of you and Tobio let a bit of a smile soften on his features.
"You gonna stand out there like an idiot?" He looked at you point blank.
"You gonna ask me to come in like a decent host?" You shoot back.
Maybe you didn't need the buffer of everyone else to hang out with your friend.
Explaining his mom and sister had gone to go get things for dinner as well as pick his grandma up. The offer to stay for a home cooked meal was extended to you quickly. Apprehensive to accept seeing as things were going well now but maybe not so much later. You didn't want to overstay your welcome. Tobio really wasn't going to take no for an answer. Even repeating that dinner was going to be served and it was one of your favorite concoctions Mrs. Kageyama made. Unsure of the last time you had a home cooked meal like that. You begrudgingly accept because your stomach really did speak up for you.
First met with the fear of how long you and Tobio might be alone together. It thankfully wasn't enough time for you to stick your foot in your mouth. Both his sister and mom showed up with grandma Kageyama in tow. All three women more than excited to see you since it'd been a few months since you stopped by. Tobio's mom showering you in affection as her 'good' child seeing as you came to visit far more than her son. A cranky Tobio argued that he lived all the way in Germany there was just no 'coming over' to visit. He hardly won that argument.
Much like the times in high school when you came over. Mrs. Kageyama asked if you would help with dinner. Extending an extra set of hands to meal prep meant you did find a bit of a buffer from being left alone with Tobio for too long. Ironically though instead of spending his time on his phone or something capturing his attention on the tv. Tobio was in the kitchen with the rest of the family helping with what little prep there was to spare between the four of you.
He really was shit at cooking but it was cute to watch the world renowned setter get scolded by his mom even at this age. Each time you giggled he'd shoot you a glare that only lasted a few seconds. Unable to hold it as his cheeks would gain a dusting of pink and he'd just huff and go back to doing it better like his mom told him to.
This felt good. This felt like home. It had been a while since you felt like this.
"And dinner is done!" Mrs. Kageyama was happy to announce the mini feast. More than you ever thought was needed for a dinner. You suspected maybe her son being home had something to do with it. Though with how much she made you expected some more visitors. That was dashed though when you realized he still ate like a horse. Snickering you won't deny Mrs. Kageyama knew what she was doing in the kitchen. Everything you eat feels like a warm hug. And that wasn't just the beer you had with dinner speaking for you. This really felt amazing.
"Hey," Tobio stood above you once he'd clear the table after his mom and sister said they'd be back after dropping grandma Kageyama off, "You want another?"
A second you realize he's looking down at the empty beer in front of you, "Um-"
"I was gonna have another anyways," Tobio gives you an answer before you can have a chance.
Matching cans he brings you one but mentions he's going to go sit outside for a bit. Wondering if you'd like to come with. Stuffed with dinner you were pretty sure you could move if you forced yourself to. So you find yourself trailing him to the back patio ever so familiar to you.
Outside looks so much different than you remember. No more volleyball net. The sets of poles gone. No random volleyballs left out or scattered everywhere. You'd seen this yard a million times since graduation but for some reason it felt weird sitting out there with the volleyball fanatic himself and not a single volleyball in his grasp.
The crack of his beer reminds you of the one in your grasp. Following suit you open your own and take a sip before setting it on the table next to his. Alone together but you could do this.
"...how long you planning on staying?" Out of everything, he hadn't told you how long his little vacation was going to last this time.
"I don't know." A very unlike him answer. You turned to him just to see Tobio looking out at the yard in front of the both of you with a glazed over look.
"What about the team? Did everyone come back with you too?" Figuring everyone was on break then, Kōrai, Wakatoshi and Fukurō must have come back to visit family too since they weren't a bother in the last video call you had together.
"I don't know." Again with the vacant look. Tobio was earning a scowl from you now. He only had a single beer with dinner too so he had no excuse to be this spacy. Seconds away from getting the grumpy side of you, he turns to meet your gaze, "I took a little bit of time off."
Wow.
There hadn't been anytime off since graduations. Not any on purpose that was. Tobio had been moving forward to make sure he wasn't left behind just like the others did after graduating. Getting to where he was now was no easy feat. For him to take a break was utterly concerning.
"Did something happened? With the guys? The Schweiden team are-"
"No, it was my choice." Tobio looked at you then down to your pair of drinks, "I had something bothering me."
"Alright you know what-" Huffing you square up with him across the patio table, "What the hell? First you don't tell me when you're getting here. Then you get here hours early and don't tell me. Your mom made you re-chop the garlic twice and you didn't say anything. And you haven't mentioned harassing Shoyo over the phone one time. What's up with you?"
Blue eyes staring at you from across the table. Much like the way he stared at you the day he told you he'd be going to Germany. Unlike then the stomach lurking feeling you got from that day didn't measure up to now. Tobio's fixed expression unreadable on his familiar yet so different face. You were looking at your friend but someone entirely new in front of you all at once.
Between the time you waited for an explanation and when he moved forward. Time sped up. His lips against yours before you knew it. In a moment so fleeting that you weren't able to do anything but stare at him when he came back into your full line of sight.
The way you didn't say anything sent him into the first real glimpse of an old fumbling fool, "Oh god no! I- That wasn't- Shit wait y/n no I-"
"You-" the word bubbled in your throat all at once, "-kissed me."
His blue eyes grew huge and the setter looked down at the lips of your hardly touched beer can, "I- Wait listen ok I-"
"Again."
"What?"
"Kiss me again."
Tobio's eyes darted up from the cans. You were looking at him. The same way you did across the gym all those years ago. With such a conviction that his skin tingled with lively vibrance nothing in the world compared to. He could feel his hairs stand on end like they were saluting you. And he bit his lip once nervously expecting you to back down. When you didn't though. He knew he had to.
Slowed down from before. To take a moment to savor everything about it lost in the urgency of the first one. Tobio's lips met yours like they were old friends. Kiss as tender as you imagined. It wasn't until your hands were up cupping his face. And his fingertips grazed the skin of your cheek as he did the same. Did you really make the realization of the knot of nerves in your stomach loosening all at once.
"...I came back to see you." Tobio confessed against your lips. He found his words even though he reluctantly didn't want the kiss to end, "I couldn't focus and- I wasn't doing great at practice- Things were off I just couldn't-"
"We talk every day," You give that out like it's the same. You're a liar if anything. None of it was the same and none of it would be the same now they you had the buzz of his lips against yours, "I don't understand- We just-"
"I think I love you-" Tobio blurted.
No going back now.
Cheeks as red as the day you first kissed his knuckles after nationals. Tobio could only blink a few dozen times as it was hard enough to think of the right words when he was focused. Now his mind was leaving him at a million miles an hour and everything he'd rehearsed was for nothing in this very moment. All Tobio could think of was the hum of your lips against his. Comparing it to how he always imagined it would feel. And realizing now, it was so much better than that.
He swore he could see his reflection in your eyes. Quickly Tobio tried to recoup the plan he had made on the plane ride, "I just- Hold on ok- It's just- Ever since we were kids- I guess a long time- And being in Germany- It feels weird away- I love it but it doesn't feel completely right- I came back to see you and- I didn't mean it exactly like-"
"I love you too." The words swelled in your chest like a school girl. Here you were in your twenties confessing like a fool. Somehow it felt better than keep it all in these years. You find more to go along with just blurting that out like he did, "I mean- I think I've known for a while- A long while. This feeling, I don't know a lot of things I guess since I don't travel the world like you. Even when you were so far away I couldn't shake this-"
All over again and for only the third time in a lifetime. Tobio leaned in and kissed you. Practice making perfect with him like always. This time his hands found yours to squeeze them tight. Fingers wrapping around your palms with the warm of them taking over your hands.
Tobio was slow. He waited an entire plan ride plus almost a decade to do this. Through break downs or break throughs, your lips lit up more in him than anything your name in his contacts could ever do.
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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years
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Sick Day (Demon x Reader)
Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon
Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship
Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic
Word Count: 2008 words
Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor
A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme
“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”
The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.
A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.
You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.
You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.
“Darling?”
You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.
“I’ve made you some...uh…”
The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to  be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.
Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.
As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.
“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”
You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.
“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”
Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.
“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.
“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.
“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”
You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.
Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.
Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.
--------
The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.
And I’m about to sleep 9 more.
Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.
Slam!
But then the door slams open.
On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.
Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.
“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”
You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.
“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”
In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.
You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.
“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”
“Goat’s blood, technically.”
Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.
Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.
“Here, it says the ritual-”
“The what?”
“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”
Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.
“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”
Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”
You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.
“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”
Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.
“Do you mean WebMD?”
Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.
“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.
“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-” Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”
Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.
“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”
Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”
“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”
“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”
Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.
“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”
Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.
“I suppose….You would know about these things.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.
“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”
Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.
Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.
“Darling?”
“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.
“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”
You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.
“No need to apologize, I get it.”
“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”
You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,
As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.
You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.
“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a  mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.
Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.
“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”
With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.
“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.
You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.
“Good night, I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetling.”
You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.
--------
A week later, when  you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-
“Ah-choo!”
You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.
“A silly human sickness, huh?”
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When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson
IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.
Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff
Words: 2.8k
A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.
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The Orpheum, 1995
The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.
“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.
Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”
“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”
“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.
“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”
The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.
“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.
You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.
“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”
Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.
“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.
Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.
“Sorry!”
“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”
“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.
“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”
The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.
As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 
“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 
Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 
“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.
A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.
From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.
The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.
“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.
Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”
Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.
“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”
“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.
The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.
“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.
“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.
Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”
“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 
Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.
“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.
But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.
The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.
You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.
How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.
You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.
“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.
“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.
Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 
“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”
“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 
What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 
“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.
“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.
“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”
“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.
“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”
“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”
“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.
“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.
Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”
“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”
“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.
“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.
Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.
“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 
You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.
“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 
“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.
“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”
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Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002
An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.
Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.
Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.
“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”
“Not a soccer player?”
“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”
As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.
“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”
You didn’t need to be asked twice. 
“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”
Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.
“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”
“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”
“We’re all a little crazy.”
Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.
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bitch-out · 4 years
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OKAY i know you didn’t ask for a full length fic but... i couldnt help myself. here it is: 
Four times Alex saw signs that the world was changing to become more accepting of people like him, and the one time he actually realized it.
1. TV SHOW
After finishing practice for the night, the band walked into Julie’s house. Luke immediately walked into the kitchen, wanting to see what meal her dad was whipping up. His obsession with watching lifers eat was starting to get a little concerning. Reggie followed after him, wanting to hang out with Julie’s dad. That was also a little concerning.
Julie plopped down on the couch next to her little brother, Carlos, who was watching a TV show that she didn’t recognize. Alex hopped over the couch and took a seat next to her, looking at the screen intently.
“What is he watching?” Alex asked, reclining into the couch.
Julie shrugged in response. “I’m not sure…”
Carlos looked over to her with a questioning expression. “Huh?” Oh crap. She needed to stop talking to the boys while other people were around. It made her look absolutely bonkers.  
“…what you’re watching! I’m not sure what you’re watching.” She said quickly, trying to avoid any awkwardness. “What is it?”
He seemed to buy it, letting her weirdness go. “Oh, I’m watching this new show. I forget what it’s called. It’s about this girl who accidentally gets musical superpowers after getting stuck by lightning.”
“Cool,” she answered, settling into the couch. She and Alex watched for a few minutes before looking at each other in confusion. They had absolutely no idea what was going on in the show. They looked at the screen as the main character sighed dramatically, slamming her door while running out of her house. “I’m lost. What’s happening? Why is she so mad?” Julie asked.
Carlos rolled his eyes. “She’s in a fight with her dads right now because they won’t let her go to this big party. Now shhh! It’s getting juicy!”
Luke’s eyes went wide as the scene switched to the main characters dads, who were sharing a tender moment while discussing their child. Two dads? On television? Without it being played off as a joke? He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen.
Julie looked at him inquisitively, noticing his surprised expression. She raised an eyebrow.
“I see.” A soft smile settled on his face. “Cool.” He bit his lip and leaned back.
“Cool.” She agreed. She almost said something, but then decided it would be better for her to wait for him to tell her.
2. PUBLIC DISPLAY OF AFFECTION
“People watching in 2020 is way better than people watching in the 90’s.” Reggie stated as they walked through downtown LA. They were killing time while Julie was at school. They passed a man in a superhero costume who was taking pictures with tourists.
“I know right?” Luke agreed. “I love looking over people’s shoulder and watching what they’re doing on those… high tech cellphone things.”
“Smartphones,” Alex offered.
“Smartphones, right.”
Reggie ran over to a middle aged guy in a suit sitting on a bench who was looking intently at his phone. “Look at this guy! He’s looking at an article called ‘How to tell if you have foot fungus’.” He wrinkled his nose. “Gross. You might wanna get that checked out, buddy,” patting his shoulder, his hand passing right through.
Luke looked around for someone else to observe. “Okay see the one over there in the blue striped shirt eating a chili dog?” He pointed over to his left to a man walking away from a hot dog stand.  
The man went to take a bite out of his chili dog but dripped it all down the front of his shirt. “Oooooh…. Missed his mouth on that one,” Luke said, cringing.
“That’s nasty,” Alex chimed in.
A guy who looked to be around their age speed walked past them, looking down. He brushed his shaggy blonde hair out of his face as he grinned down at his phone. He was obviously walking with a purpose.
“This guy is hustling! Cmon!” Reggie grinned, jogging after him. Luke and Alex ran over to catch up, all three of them following in pursuit. They all looked over his shoulder to read his text messages. He was texting someone he had named “babe <3” in his contacts.
Can’t wait to see u, his text read, im right around the corner
Reggie whistled. “His girlfriend’s probably a complete hottie if he’s that excited to see her-”
As they turned the corner, the blonde stranger they were following put his phone away as he caught sight of someone. He broke into a run and bear hugged the person, wrapping his arms around them and lifting them off the ground. As he pulled away, it was revealed that the person he was hugging was a brunette guy around the same age as them.
The brunette murmured something, his lips quirking into a smirk. The blonde teen let out a laugh, then pulled him into a kiss.
Alex nearly gasped in surprise, looking around to notice that… not a singular person was looking over. Everyone was just going about their day as normal. No glares, no sneers, not even a scoff.
It felt like the breath was sucked out of his lungs. Was this… normal? The couple broke apart and joined hands, continuing down the street. Alex couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. No one had even batted an eyelash at the public display of affection.
To him, it hadn’t been that long ago since 1995. When even looking at someone for too long would get you called a slur. When his own father would call him a-
“Alex? You good?” He was broken out of his thoughts by Luke looking over at him concernedly.
Alex opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by someone else.
“There you guys are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
They turned around in tandem to see Julie standing there, her eyes sparkling. And they continued with their day, moment forgotten.
3. MUSIC
Alex found himself once again alone with Julie, hanging out with her in her room. He was the only member of the band she would let hang out with her in here, which filled him with an odd sort of pride.
They were currently listening to one of her Spotify playlists. Julie was doing homework on her bed and Alex was tapping his drumsticks on his knee, following the beat of the song they were listening to. He was getting into the groove of the song “This song has a good beat!” he exclaimed. “What is this?”
She grinned at him. “It’s called ‘Girls like Girls’ by Hayley Kiyoko!” She stood up on her bed, dropping her homework and singing into an imaginary microphone as the chorus hit. She belted at the top of her lungs, “Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new~” She laughed as she flopped back onto her bed.
He gaped at her, surprised that she was treating it with such nonchalance. In the 90’s, this would have been music you listened to at 2 am when your parents were asleep. “Is this a… popular song?” he asked.
“Yeah, I mean it’s from like 2015 so it’s basically ancient but it’s still pretty popular.” She turned back to her homework and picked up her pen. “I think the music video has like over 100 million hits on YouTube or something like that.”
His jaw dropped even further “100 million?”
The timer on her phone went off. The words BAND PRACTICE blared across the screen with the chime of her ringtone. “I’ll show it to you later! But we have to go to rehearsal right now.”
He shook his head and followed her out of the room.
4. COVINGTON
As both his friends were pulled away by girls saucily dancing in feathered blue outfits, Alex stood awkwardly like a fish out of water. Covington slid up to him with a sly smirk on his face. “Come now. You can’t be the only one not dancing.”
“No, I… I know.” Alex sputtered. “I’m just…” Not into dancing with girls? No, he couldn’t just say that. He didn’t want to cause a scene. He pointed over his shoulder. “I’m looking for Willie,” he finished lamely.
Covington seemed to read him like an open book. He smiled and gestured with open palms. “Dante! Fuego!” Two handsome men slid up to either side of him. “Meet Alex.” The linked arms with him.
Alex looked at them, surprised. How did he know? Is this like a theater thing? Or… “You’re welcome,” Covington smirked, ducking down. Is this normal here…?
His thoughts were cut off as he was lifted up over Covington’s head and pulled into a fast-paced dance.
5. PRIDE
“Slow down Willie!” Alex shouted, running after his brunette friend as he skated through lifers and tore down the street.
Willie laughed and hopped off his board, picking it up off the ground. He waited for Alex to catch up with him “Relax, we’re almost here…”
Alex was too busy catching his breath to realize they were in the middle of a giant crowd. Lifers walked through them every few seconds like it was nothing “Wh-What is this?” Alex asked, looking around. Everyone was wearing colorful clothing and most were wearing some kind of glitter.
The skater laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the street. “We’re skating the floats, dude.” He pointed at the bright floats that were parading down the street.
Was this some kind of festival or something? Alex wondered. “Why is everything so… colorful?”
Willie looked at him like he was missing something obvious. “It’s June. Pride month.” Alex didn’t know what that was. He looked around, trying to figure it out. “You’ve never seen a pride parade before?” Willie questioned. Then, he realized. “Right. Right, you’re a 90’s ghost. I keep forgetting about that.” He slapped his forehead.
Then, he realized what this was. Alex turned to his right and saw two women kissing. A couple of guys his age were holding hands right next to him. Signs as far as the eye could see read ‘here and queer’ and ‘all you need is love’ and ‘love is love’ and countless other sayings. His breath stuttered in his chest “This is…”
“I know. Pretty cool, right?” Willie asked, sounding pretty nonchalant. He was scouting out the floats, focused on his task.
“And this is all for…” Alex hesitated, “For gay people?”
“All LGBTQ+ people, technically, but yeah dude.” Willie clarified. He grinned, his eyes set on a float just down the road. He found the perfect route.
“So it really is different now, huh?” Alex asked, his voice cracking slightly. Willie looked back in alarm, not realizing how much this was impacting the drummer beside him. A tear rolled down his cheek, but his smile could not be bigger. Alex continued, “Like I had hoped it was, and there’s been some signs, but this is…” He covered his mouth to hide a sob.
Willie walked over to his side, dropping his skateboard and taking his hand gently. “Yeah, Alex. It’s different. Better. Not perfect, but... a lot better.” He squeezed his hand.
“It’s amazing.” Alex said, wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve and grinning. He let out a laugh as a drag queen passed by and waved at the crowd, blowing kisses.
The skater couldn’t take his eyes off of Alex. He was absolutely glowing, basking in the atmosphere of the parade. “You know what? Let’s forget the skating.” Willie decided, taking his skateboard from the side of the street and tucking it in an alley.
“Huh?” Alex was confused. Willie wanted to... not go skating?
“It’s time to get your pride on, Alex.”
Together, they spent the rest of the day exploring every area of pride, ducking through crowds and sneaking onto floats. There was even one point where they ran through a huge glitter cannon, getting absolutely covered in glitter.
After it was all done, Willie teleported back to Julie’s house with him to drop him off.
“That was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Alex admitted, his smile seemed to be permanently glued to his face.
“Me too. I’ve been to tons of pride parades, but none of them were as fun as this one.” Willie admitted.
“Really? What was different about this one? Was it the glitter cannon? It was probably the glitter cannon-”
“It was you, Alex.” The skater said quietly, brushing a couple stray pieces of glitter off of the taller boy’s cheek.
“Oh,” Alex breathed, looking down at Willie. His heart was racing a mile a minute. He hadn’t realized they were standing so close together.
Willie hesitated for a moment. Was this the moment? He didn’t want to rush Alex. He was probably overwhelmed enough after experiencing his first pride. He smiled up at the blonde and patted him on the shoulder. “Goodnight, Alex.” He stepped away and turned to leave.
He was just about to teleport when he heard “Wait!”
Willie turned around Alex kissed him.
He stiffened at first, surprised. Before he could respond, Alex pulled away and looked at him in panic.
“I’m so sorry, I thought-”
Willie grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him down, kissing him heatedly. Alex responded with enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around his waist.
“ABOUT TIME!” someone hollered from behind him.
They broke away to see Luke and Reggie beaming. They both ran over and hugged them both in a group hug. “We thought you two would never figure it out.” Luke said, causing Reggie to laugh. 
“Happy pride, Alex”. Willie murmured, squished up against his side. And Alex couldn’t have been happier.
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modernpaw · 3 years
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Midnight Ride
Adam Sackler x Female Reader
Summary: You've been chatting with a guy you matched with on a dating app for two weeks now, and tonight is your first time meeting him in person.
Notes: This is not at all related to The One, the other piece I wrote about Sackler days earlier. For the purposes of this universe, let's pretend that sitting on the metal handlebar of a bicycle and going around New York late at night aren't dangerous. LOL. And just for added feels, this is the song that was responsible for this fic.
CW: A little bit of swearing, AFAB reader, awful cycling practices, but generally fluff
Words: 1.3k
It's been two years since you last went out on a date, but anyone looking at you now wouldn't be able to tell, not with the way you seem so comfortable talking to the man sitting across you.
Several weeks ago, you decided to finally reenter the dating scene, swiping left and right through New York's most eligible bachelors. To your unexpected delight, the pickings weren't as slim as you thought, and you ended up matching with several interesting men.
Adam happened to be one of them. His profile listed him as an actor, a detail that usually makes you a bit wary, considering that most actor types you know seem to be only interested in themselves, but there was something about him that made you reconsider.
His eyes had both an intensity and a vulnerability that made it hard for you to look away. And with that kind of connection just from the screen alone, you couldn't not give it a shot.
And you're so glad you did.
Adam is thoughtful and sweet, remembering details about you despite mentioning them only once and reminding you to take your vitamins. But he's also funny as hell and swears like the world is going to fucking end tomorrow.
After two weeks of constant messaging, you two agreed to meet up for dinner at a late-night diner along Madison.
The moment you strode in, the two of you locked eyes immediately. There was no mistaking Adam. His hair was just as long as it was in the photo, and when he stood up to greet you, you saw exactly what the 6"3 in his profile came with, and boy did you approve.
Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice your ogling, overshadowed as it was by the confusion of whether you two should go in for a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or a handshake. It should have been awkward, but then you laughed and gave him a bright smile, and just like that, the tension was broken.
You spent the first hour candidly talking about your respective expectations about how the other would look in real life, which somehow, led to you two exchanging photos of your younger selves over burgers and fries.
"You looked so cute with braces on!"
"Oh my god, Adam, your ears are so adorable!"
"Holy shhiiiiitttt, had you gone to prom with me in that, I never would have left you a virgin!"
"Adam!" you hissed, clamping his mouth with one hand while looking around frantically. You might have told him about your high school boyfriend backing out of having sex with you on the night of your high school prom, but that didn't mean you wanted the rest of the diner to know it, too.
"What," he replied innocently once you removed your hand. "I totally wouldn't!"
"Shut up!" you said, trying not to laugh as his declarations became more and more ridiculous. The rest of dinner went on in a similar vein, with Adam making you laugh and you trying not to choke on your food, and by the time you decide to get the bill, it's nearly midnight.
"I can't believe we've been talking for almost four hours!" you exclaim, looking at your watch.
"I can," he says boldly, eyes twinkling at you, like he's still in awe that you're real. And he is. From the moment you two connected on the app, Adam has found himself drawn to you. You're smart and funny, but not in a way that seems like you think yourself better than everyone else or self-destructive. You appear genuinely interested in him as a person, and so far, you don't seem to be put off by his "intense" disposition.
Whenever he talks to you, he feels like he wants to be on his best behavior, but also that he doesn't have to pretend to be anyone else, which he's well-aware is a complete oxymoron. Still, it's the only way he can put it.
He told Ray as much earlier this evening, and Ray just told him that maybe, just maybe, him being on this so-called best behavior is not too far from who he really is.
But Adam has no fucking clue who he is. After Hannah, after Jessa, after all the women he's been with, he feels like he's just beginning to get to know himself again. One thing he knows for sure, however, is that he likes himself when he talks to you.
And he doesn't want the night to end.
Neither do you.
You two are walking aimlessly down the street when Adam stops in his tracks and turns to you.
"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks.
"What?" you squawk.
Adam laughs at your reaction. "Not that kind of ride, kid," he says, and you realize that he's referring to the row of Citi bikes for rent on the curb.
You're not exactly embarrassed by your reaction, but his next words definitely fluster you.
"But maybe on our next date," he teases, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," you manage to toss back in reply before leaving him to inspect the bicycles at a closer range.
Adam shakes his head. "Okay, that's it," he says before wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up from behind.
"Adam!" you yell out, giggling.
He swings you a few times before eventually helping you get on the metal handlebar of the bike. Your hands automatically hold on to the bar to keep yourself upright. "Keep that adorable tush right there," he murmurs as he gets on the bike seat behind you.
Then he starts pedalling.
It's not exactly easy to hold a conversation on a bicycle, but somehow, you two manage by taking turns asking each other short would-you-rather questions with absolutely no context.
"Elephants or koalas?" he asks.
"Elephants. They never forget," you answer. "Lions or tigers?"
"Lions," he says grimly. "Tigers will most certainly eat you on sight. Hero or villain?"
"I-Innocent bystander," you manage to say despite the laughter that's already bubbling so close to the surface. It turns into a full-on guffaw when he sputters comically behind your ear. "That's not even one of the choices, kid!"
"Well, the rules have changed!" you yell back when a cab honks loudly in the distance. "Gold or silver?"
"Glass," he replies, not willing to concede even though he has zero idea how to not lose. "Upstairs or downstairs?"
"Uh," you stutter, not expecting such a difficult one right away. "Sideways."
"Really?" he asks, his voice taking on a velvety quality. You don't know how to explain it, but you feel like Adam has just changed the rules right under your nose.
"You bet," you answer, soldiering on. "On or off?"
Adam laughs, and you try not to shiver at the hot puffs of breath that warm the back of your ear. "Oh, definitely off," he says.
"You're supposed to give me an answer that's not one of the choices," you say, trying to distract your thoughts from going down that road.
"I'm sorry," he says in a way that says he's definitely not sorry at all. "Fast or slow?"
Well, two can play that game. "Fast," you say, but before he can react, you add, "Like a fucking jackhammer."
"Ffffuck," he swears and he pedals a bit faster.
"Adam!" you cry out suddenly, afraid to lose your balance.
"Shit! Sorry!" he apologizes, gently slowing down to a stop. The Brooklyn Bridge is a good place to end the ride as any, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think that he planned this perfectly. You hop down from your seat and turn to face Adam who makes to dismount as well.
"Want to walk the rest of the way?" Adam asks you with a goofy smile.
You smile back. "Yeah, I'd like that."
As you stroll over the bridge side by side, Adam slowly inches his hand on the handlebar closer to yours and you reach out to do the same. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you just know, even without looking, that he's got a smile on his face, too.
Tagging: @cornmousequeen, @fizzywoohoo, @paper-n-ashes, @morby
If you would like to be tagged in future adcu stories or only those for specific adcu characters (which I cannot promise will actually happen), let me know! :) Otherwise, thank you for reading!
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a-simple-gaywitch · 3 years
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The Other Side of Someday
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After Spencer and (Y/N) break up, everything changes
Warnings: Criminal Minds-Typical Violence, Angst
Genre: Angst. It’s basically just angst
Word Count: 2807
A/N: Title taken from Sara Bareilles’ Gonna Get Over You. Please messege me/send an ask if you want added to my taglist
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“The saddest thing about love is that not only the love cannot last forever, but even the heartbreak is soon forgotten.”
~William Faulkner 
~
You and Spencer Reid didn’t start your relationship in a very conventional way. After the “death” of Emily Prentiss, you and Spencer turned to each other for comfort as you mourned for your friend. Shockingly, Spencer made the first move. He was over at your apartment and the two of you were watching a movie, trying to ignore the pain of losing a woman you both saw as a big sister and friend. Seemingly out of nowhere, Spencer kissed you. You’d been friends with Spencer for nearly five years, and you’d had a crush on him for almost as long. 
Your relationship strengthened the BAU. You and Spencer were practically joint at the hip and your thoughts bounced off the other. Your relationship lasted for a little over a year, before everything changed. 
Spencer drew away from you. He already wasn’t big on PDA, but even in the privacy of your own apartments he didn’t hold you or kiss you like he used to. That was your first clue things weren’t right. The next sign was when he seemed to avoid you whenever he could.
You cornered him on the way back to the hotel after a long day working a case. 
“Spence, what’s going on?” You asked, grabbing his wrist as he made his way to the door. 
He wrenched his arm out of your grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, Spencer. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No, of course not, I-”
“Then tell me why you’ve been acting so weird lately!”
Spencer sighed. “I think we should break up.”
“Oh.” You were silent for a beat, trying to figure out how to respond. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, when one person wants to break up, you break up. Just… Can I ask why?”
“I just,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t think our relationship should go any further.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’m going to ride back to the hotel with Hotch and Rossi,” you said before ducking out of the precinct. 
Thankfully, the case didn’t last much longer, and you were able to keep your personal issues out of the case. Unfortunately, though, you were surrounded by profilers. When JJ noticed you picking at the salad you’d picked up, she sat next to you. 
“What’s going on with you? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, Jayje. Spencer and I broke up.”
“Oh, (Y/N).” She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug as her Mom Instincts™ kicked in. “I’m sorry, I know how much you love him.”
“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, shrugging out of her arms. “It hasn’t affected my job, and I’m not going to let it.”
~
You know that feeling when you’re on a roller coaster and it drops suddenly? That was how you felt when you discovered the real reason Spencer broke up with you. When he came into the office panicked, you knew something was wrong. 
“Spence? Are you alright?” You asked him as he ran up the stairs to the briefing room.
Spencer told the team what was going on. His new girlfriend was kidnapped, supposedly by her stalker. He was beyond stressed. His hair was a complete mess and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than they usually were. The team agreed to help bring her home, off the clock. 
“Hey, you alright?” Penelope asked you. 
“I’m fine,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re rescuing a woman from her stalker, we’ve done this before.”
“Well, yeah, but it’s Reid.”
Speaking of, Spencer came up to you, his hair more of a mess than it was before. “(Y/N). I need you to promise me something.”
“Sure, anything Spence. What do you need?”
“Get Maeve back safe. Please. Promise me.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”
~
You couldn’t fulfill your promise, though you tried. You really tried. You just weren’t fast enough. 
Spencer was distraught, as anyone would be after losing someone they loved. When he returned to work, he kept his distance from you. You thought he was the same with everyone else, until you saw him talking with Alex Blake by the coffee machine. You didn’t realize Spencer was angry at you until the team discussed the unsub and the victims still in his captivity. 
“Don’t like (Y/N) rescue the vics, she’ll just let them die anyway.”
“Reid!”
“Spencer, what the hell?” you said.
“You promised you would save Maeve. And you didn’t.”
“I did what I could! None of us could have predicted what happened!”
“You let your jealousy get in the way, you let her die!” He fell silent for a minute before saying, “It should have been you.”
You took a step back in shock.
“Reid!” Hotch yelled at him a second time. 
You pursed your lips before saying, “If you think I’d let an innocent woman die because of my own emotional complications, you clearly don’t know me at all. Maybe you never did.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the precinct. 
You sat on the step outside the building, your hot tears a stark contrast to the cool night air. When you heard the door open, you sniffled and dug the heel of your hand into your eyes, rubbing your tears away. 
Rossi sat down on the step next to you and handed you a cup of hot tea. “He didn’t mean it, you know,” he assured you.
You looked into the steaming cup. “But he did. You didn’t see the look in his eyes, Rossi.” You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “He hates me now.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Rossi assured you. “But if it makes you feel any better, Hotch is really ripping into him for saying those things to you.”
You shook your head and scoffed. “It doesn’t.”
Rossi’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile. “How about I drive you back to the hotel? You seem like you need some rest.”
~
Reid’s snide comments didn’t stop. They just became more discrete, and always when Rossi and Hotch weren’t around. It went on for months. It got to the point where you avoided Spencer as much as you could. 
One day, after filling out your paperwork, you walked up the stairs to Hotch’s office and knocked on the door. 
“Come in.”
You pushed the door open. “Hey, Hotch. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
You looked out at the bullpen before you closed the door and sat down across from Hotch. You took a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to leave the Bureau.”
“What? Are you sure? If it’s about something with the BAU, I can talk to Strauss about transferring you-”
“No, Hotch,” you said, giving him a sad smile. “It’s time for me to leave. Remember when Elle left and she said she used to get so excited when her phone rang, but she dreaded it towards the end? I understand that now.” You pulled the sleeves of your cardigan over your hands and gripped the cuffs in your fists. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I’m turning my credentials in on my way out today.”
Hotch sighed. “Well, I can’t say we won’t miss you,” he said. 
“Could you just, uh, do me a favor? Don’t tell the team until after I’m gone? I don’t think I could face Garcia right now.”
“Sure,” Hotch promised. “Where are you going to go?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a Master’s in adolescent psychology, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a job.”
“Well, we’ll be here if you need anything,” Hotch assured you. “We’re only a phone call away.”
~
“Where’s (L/N)?” Morgan asked when the team gathered in the conference room the next day. “She’s never this late, is she okay?”
“Well, before we get started I need to give you all an announcement. (L/N) is no longer part of the Bureau.”
“What?!”
“Are you serious, Hotch?”
“And she didn’t tell any of us?”
Hotch held up his hand to silence the team. “She didn’t want to tell anyone because she knew you’d all get upset and try to convince her to stay.”
“Did she say why she was leaving?” JJ asked.
“She just said she thought it was time for her to move on,” Hotch explained. “She didn’t tell me why. But that’s her business.” He turned to Garcia. “The case?”
~
You’d moved on from the BAU, and, by extension, Spencer. You found a job as a school psychologist at a nearby high school, and you went back to school to get your doctorate. Every once in a while, the team would be on the news and you would think about calling them, just to talk to them. But you never did. 
You were walking home from the convenience store on the corner of your street when someone jumped out and hit you in the head, knocking you out. 
You woke up to blinding pain behind your eyes and the smell of manure in the air. 
“Are you alright?” a rough, female voice asked as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Where am I? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” You heard a chain rattle as the woman handed you a cup. “I’ve been here for days. I’m Laura.”
“(Y/N).” You looked into the cup. “What is it?”
“Just water,” Laura assured you. “He gives us a little bit every few days. To keep our strength up.”
“There was a girl here before me, wasn’t there?” you asked, cautiously sipping the water. 
“Yeah. Her name was Ruth.”
“And now that I’m here…”
The sound of chains rattling on the barn door made the both of you look up. 
~
“Hey, I just got Hotch’s text,” Spencer said to JJ as he walked into the BAU. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. He just said it was an emergency.”
They walked into the conference room where the rest of the team was already gathered. 
“What’s going on?” Spencer asked Hotch. 
“We have a high-priority case. (Y/N)’s the most recent victim.”
“Wait, (Y/N) (L/N)? As in our Angelface?” Penelope asked, panic rising in her voice. 
“Unfortunately,” Hotch said. “This unsub keeps these women for about two weeks before… well…” He clicked to the next picture on the screen. “This woman was just found this morning. Laura Greenwald.” Spencer felt a lump in his throat, seeing the mutilation done to the woman. “And there was another abduction about two miles from where (Y/N) was taken. Let’s get to work.”
~
Your captor unchained the doors to the barn you were being held in and shoved a whimpering girl inside, her hands and wrists restrained and a burlap bag over her head. 
You walked over to her and gently pulled the sack off her head. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Who-who are you?” she asked, sniffling. Tear tracks trailed down her dirty face. “Where are we?”
“My name is (Y/N),” you told her, untying the ropes around her hands. “I can’t say exactly where we are. I’ve been trying to figure it out since I got here.”
“Wait, how long have you been here?”
“Days. Maybe a week? I’m not sure.”
“Oh, god,” she whimpered. 
“What’s your name?”
“Julie.”
“Don’t worry, Julie. We’ll get out of here, and we’ll get to go home,” you promised. 
“How can you be so sure?”
“I used to work for the FBI. The Behavioural Analysis Unit. I saw men like him all the time. He’s devolving, he’s going to get caught, and soon.” The door started creaking open again. “Just hang in until they rescue us.”
~
The BAU had finally tracked down the unsub holding you and were gearing up to bring him in. 
“Remember, we have to keep our heads,” Rossi said. “I know this is personal, but we can’t let our emotions get the best of us.” He made a point of looking at Spencer. 
“Alright, let’s go,” Hotch said. 
The team broke into the decrepit barn where you were being held. 
“Arthur Sumner, FBI!” Hotch yelled. “Step away from the girl!” He took off in a run through the forest. Spencer started chasing after him, full speed. “Reid!”
 Rossi walked over to where you were tied to a board, your arms above your head. You were unconscious. Rossi checked your pulse and sighed when he felt your heart still beating. “We need a medic!”
~
“Where is she?” A long-haired man said, jogging down the hallway. “Where’s (Y/N)?”
“Excuse me, sir,” Spencer said, “only family is allowed in to see Ms. (L/N) right now.”
“I’m her goddamn fiance,” he said. “Who the hell are you?”
Spencer’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I, um-”
“We’re her family,” Rossi said, saving Spencer. 
His eyebrows furrowed. “(Y/N) doesn’t have family.”
“Maybe not in the literal sense,” he said. “But when you work with someone for years and see the worst of humanity together, you become a family.”
He took a step back. “You’re David Rossi,” he realized. “I’m so sorry. I’m, I’m Gavin Lucas,” he stuttered, holding his hand out to shake Rossi’s.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Rossi said. “Come on, I’ll take you to her room. She went through a lot, so she’s heavily drugged and still unconscious.”
Rossi and the man walked down the hallway, leaving a stunned Spencer in the waiting room. 
“She’s engaged?” he whispered to no one in particular.
~
“Agent Hotchner?” a nurse said, coming into the waiting room. “She’s awake.”
Hotch thanked the nurse before saying, “Reid, Morgan, let’s go.” They walked into the room where you were attached to several machines with multiple casts and bandages covering your body. Gavin was sitting next to you, holding your hand. 
Morgan grabbed the second chair in the room and moved it next to the bed. “Hey, Angelface,” he said. “How you feeling?”
“Like shit,” you told him with a huff of a laugh. 
Gavin squeezed your hand. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he promised.
“Speaking of, if you’re her fiance, why didn’t you report her missing? Why was the landlord the one to report it?”
“Reid,” Hotch warned. 
“I was in Europe,” Gavin said, narrowing his eyes. “I take my AP students on a trip there every year.”
“Wait a minute, you go every year? Do you go at the same time every year?” Hotch asked. 
“Roughly,” he said. “It’s always after Easter break.”
“Would you mind talking with us a bit? This changes our profile.”
“Sure.” Gavin kissed the back of your hand before following Hotch and Morgan out of the room, leaving you with Spencer. Thankfully, you weren’t left alone with him for long. 
Garcia ran into the room, a giant gift basket in her arms, obscuring her face. “JJ told me you were awake.” She set the basket down and took Gavin’s empty seat. ��She also told me you have a fiance. You better explain why you didn’t tell me anything about him. Who is he? What’s he like? How’d you meet? When did he propose?”
You smiled at Penelope. “His name is Gavin, he’s a high school history teacher. We met at the end of my first year at the school. I was going around to all the AP classes and telling the students my office was open if they were feeling stressed. Apparently he had a crush on me and his students knew, so they schemed ways to get him to ask me out.”
“Oh, that’s so cute,” Penelope said.
“He proposed right before New Year’s,” you said. “We went ice skating and he proposed while we were out on the rink.”
While you and Penelope were catching up, Spencer slipped out of the room, making his way back to the waiting room. 
“You alright, kid?” Morgan asked when he saw Spencer’s face.
Spencer flopped into the uncomfortable upholstered chair. “(Y/N)’s engaged.” He hid his face in his hands. “She’s engaged.”
“Yeah, she is.” Morgan sat next to Spencer.
He looked up at Morgan. “I still love her.”
“What?”
“I thought I was over her. I thought I was in love with Maeve. But I’m still in love with (Y/N).”
“Well, Reid,” Morgan said, “you broke up with her. And she moved on. She’s happy. Isn’t that the most important thing?”
Spencer chewed his lip. After a while, he said, “I guess you’re right. All I want is for her to be happy. And if this guy makes her happy, I don’t want to ruin that.” He rubbed a tear from his eye. Morgan noticed, of course, and pulled Spencer into a hug.
“You’ll be okay, kid,” he said. “We’re all here for you.”
~
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” -Dr. Seuss
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decodingellipses · 3 years
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Modern Love: He Made Affection Feel Simple
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[courtesy of Brian Rea]
"Dating as a transgender woman, in my experience, meant low expectations and casual sex. Then I met Jack."
This piece is part of the Modern Love column at The New York Times
by Denny
My bio on Grindr read: “Be trans friendly. Send face to chat.”
It was difficult to be on a gay hookup app as a trans woman. Most men in my feed desired to only sleep with each other. But I knew there were straight men on Grindr who hungered for a woman like me. I wanted them too.
That’s where I met Jack. At 22, he was a few months older than me, and, other than his age, his entire profile was blank, usually an indicator of a cisgender straight man who was guarded about his attraction to trans women. Typically, the messages I received would start with a vulgar sext, sometimes an unwanted nude photo.
Living in Morningside Heights, I was attending Fordham University for my master’s degree in strategic communication. One night I was up late working when I received a Grindr message from him, a selfie. Amid his light brown hair, two-day scruff and meek gaze, his lacrosse T-shirt stood out to me the most. He looked like a sporty boy I would have crushed on in high school.
He followed up his photo with “Hello.”
Messages in my Grindr inbox tended to cut to the chase: “Down for now?” “Car sesh?” Men who contacted me because they fantasized about trans women made it difficult for me to feel seen as a person in general, let alone a person worthy of respect.
Although my interest was piqued by Jack’s picture, it was his gentleness that drew me in.
Our sporadic small talk was harmless, spanning two months. I brushed him off, but as I commuted to school and spent hours in the library, he was persistent.
“My sex drive is pretty low these days,” I wrote. “Give me a bit and I’ll hit you up.”
“OK.”
When I turned back to my studies, he added, “Just so you know, we can do non-sex things and hang out too. It would be fun.”
This became our pattern: he being distant enough to show interest without pressure, and me appreciating his laxity, given my demanding schoolwork. His ease led me to trust him, so we set up a day to meet.
The first afternoon Jack came over, he admired my bathtub and drank his cup of water with two hands. His poised demeanor in a beige wool peacoat and long scarf reminded me, in a good way, of John Bender in “The Breakfast Club.” In my bedroom, he fixated on my yellow Power Ranger figurines, noticing my framed academic award next to them on the windowsill.
“You went to SUNY Oneonta?” he said. “I went to SUNY Potsdam.”
I pictured my friends who also attended Potsdam eating in the same cafeteria as Jack, getting drunk at the same frat party. Suddenly, the person I’d seen as a stranger now fit into my world.
I imagined what the deer looked like from his dorm room window, roaming the grass at dawn. Or how he spent his day when the school canceled classes because of snow. Or where he would have gone if his parents were able to afford private school.
We sat on my bed, my back leaning against the wall. He slouched his head onto my hip and wrapped his arms around my waist. “This is weird,” I thought. Aside from sexual intimacy, my hookups were typically aromantic, absent of cuddling and expressions of affection.
I kissed him and rolled on top. I took off my shirt and he hugged me tight. His face dug into my chest as he said, “I like you. I think you’re really cool.”
Unsure how I actually felt, I said, “Oh. I think you’re really cool, too.”
The next time I saw Jack, he spent the night at my place. It was then, awake in bed at 4 a.m., that I realized I had never let a guy sleep over before. His heat warmed the bed, so I crept to the bathroom to cool off. I Snapchatted a disoriented selfie to my friends, my hair messy and eyes bloodshot.
“How do you guys do this sleepover thing?” I wrote. “I can’t sleep at all.”
Customarily, my flings with strange men were brief. The men did not take note of my bathtub or my educational history before sex, and they did not linger after.
I came back into bed, disturbed by the rumble of his snoring, but his sleeping face on my pillow struck me. For the first time, the thought of sharing a bed with a man did not come from pure imagination. I now had a real image for this fantasy; I could pretend Jack was my boyfriend, reach for his face and whisper “I love you, good night,” then fall asleep and meet him somewhere in his dream as if we had done this a hundred times before.
The next day, he flew off to see his family for the holidays and the first weeks of the new year.
“merry crimmus,” I texted.
“u too, babygirl,” he replied.
After our sleepover, I didn’t hear from him unless I initiated — an unexpected change. Instead of giving in to my insecurity that the sleepover meant little to him, and therefore I meant little, I imagined other scenarios: him asking me to sleep at his place, for a change, or spontaneously calling me while I’m in line for my morning coffee. But because I had presumed a sex-only expectation from the start, I shamed myself for developing feelings.
“miss u,” he texted one random morning.
“really?”
We stayed in touch and occasionally saw each other, weeks in between. On a hot morning, he snored behind me as I sat on the floor beside my bed, working on my final thesis. He put his hand up to my face, letting me know he was awake. With my eyes on the laptop screen, I took his hand and planted kisses in his palm, wallowing in these ordinary joys — the kind of affection I slowly grew comfortable displaying.
Longing to be more than casual with him, I sought a therapist to guide me through my growing feelings.
Jack’s periodic “miss u” texts progressed with heart emojis, an unprecedented closeness. And I returned the sentiment. It felt thrilling to express my adoration so directly, until the weeks between seeing each other and texting ultimately turned into months of silence I knew to be ghosting.
I relied on Grindr as my safe dock because dating as trans is complicated. Sleeping around was easier for me. I had set the bar low, then met Jack, who saw me as more than a fantasized body, only to have his mysterious exit echo a looming insecurity I avoided for years: Being trans implies I am not real enough to deserve decency.
I broke down in therapy, mustering the courage to say out loud what was undeniably true: “He left me.”
“I don’t mean to put this on you,” my therapist said, “but could him being a cis straight man and you being a trans woman play a part?”
I didn’t want to blame Jack, who showed me a new realm of affection that made desire feel as simple as just a boy and a girl who liked each other. But he made leaving simple, too; all of this could still not be enough.
Deep down, I denied how my mere existence as a trans woman could ever cost him. Jack, in wooing me, nurtured the possibility that my romantic fantasies could come true, that I could be seen as a complex person rather than a fetishized token of someone’s imagination. After being deserted by him, I ruminated on my insecurity that being trans denied me of even a simple goodbye.
And yet I know myself to be real because my transition, as a teenager, required exceptional certainty. Doctors and psychiatrists double-checked my decision constantly.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I repeated, and I became more real each year. With Jack, I felt even realer. Not only had he seen me as a woman, but as a woman worthy of being held.
I could blame my being trans for Jack’s ghosting, but maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe he hated his job. Maybe his family fell apart. Maybe the pleasure we felt together contrasted whatever pain remained of our baggage.
On lonely days, I imagine myself at SUNY Potsdam. At a frat party, I drunkenly dance across from Jack, cheap blue lights grazing the curves of our cheekbones, sweat dripping like cyan fireflies. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” roars through the party. “Good times never seemed so good,” everyone shouts. “I’ve been inclined to believe they never would.”
I put myself in the cafeteria, where Jack and I approach the salad bar at the same time. When he sees me, he steps back and says, “You go first,” with a grin so big I would need both hands to hold it.
———
Denny is a writer, actor and musician living in New York City.
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katsukikitten · 3 years
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Warnings College AU sexual and adult themes. Yall know the drill okay
Chapter 2
Bugzapper⚡💔: i have a proposition to make. 
Jiro flashes Mina her phone as she sips iced coffee in the blessed air conditioning of the cafe.
"That's never a good sign." She comments, moon bright eyes glued to the phone as she thinks. 
"What's not a good sign?" Uraraka asks from across the table, the two girls fill her in. 
"Oh." She racks her brain on what that could be, "Okay well I'm dying to know, now." 
🎵Music to my soul 🎶 : What do you want airhead? 
Jiro's text sent a surge of excitement through Kaminari. It was exactly what he needed after three hours of begging and bribing Bakugou to allow the sorority in or at least invite them. His fingers fly across the screen setting up a date and time for a "meeting over lunch" to discuss the proposition in further detail.  
Meanwhile across campus, you huff, eyes narrowed as a rare emotion is pulled from your fingertips in the form of deadly ice. Pulling the moisture from the air to freeze it or pulling any water towards you to keep your flank safe as your opponent rushes you at breakneck speeds. 
You hated this fucking guy, cocky, brash, so God damn arrogant in the way he held himself, in the way he spoke. It made you nauseous just thinking of him.Had you known he was the male star of this university you wouldn't have transferred, yet you still needed to transfer didn't you? Anything to get out from under the shadow of a certain Todoroki. 
No one cared to admit or to notice, that your quirk was different from Shoto's. You could manipulate water towards you to freeze, and manipulate whatever was already frozen. Your ice was denser and more durable than his and dare you say it colder than his too. Yet no one gave a shit, his was ice AND fire. You were just a one trick pony and a trick they already saw. Your opponent's taunting doesn't help matters much.
"I've already seen this before Ice Brat. Did ya forget where I fucking went to high school?" His hand heats the ice as he activates his quirk before three deafening blasts ring out. 
As you allow him to break down the ice you act on pure rage, securing some revenge from the first time he signed your hair. Pointed icicles lie in wait and once the wall is fully down you give him a nasty smirk before sending the straight his way. 
You're supposed to melt your weapons before they hit your opponent, neither of you are supposed to go all out per the professor's and college's strict rules in the athletics department but Bakugou always does. Somehow his big stupid mouth spews something that eggs you on. As if someone were shoving bamboo skewers beneath your skin, under your nails, sending you into an unheard of rage. 
Normally you were as your quirk, icy, unbothered by the world but Bakugou, God you could wring his neck. Freeze his hot blood as you watch him turn into slush beneath your feet. 
He expects you to abide by the rules, to splash him with glacier water but he realizes it too late. That you won't he let's off a quick blast, shattering two of the four deadly points. One grazes his cheek as he just barely dodges while the other lodges itself into his arm. 
You have half a mind to twist it. You pull at his blood bringing it into your arsenal. Blood red needles and bullets surround Bakugou. 
"I don't think you've seen this before.." You say darkly ready to release your hold and shred him into, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe he would see how bitter and nauseating he was. He smirks, opening his mouth to retort but you send your ice his way aiming for non vital spots although the ice creeps closer to your heart begging it to hit something vital. The inside of your ice palace begins to reek of burning sugar and spice, he plans to let out an explosion to bring this whole place down from the inside out. 
Just as he is about to detonate and just as the blood and ice are about to pierce skin the professor bursts into the gym.  
"I step out for five minutes and this is what happens?!"
The ice and blood return to liquid splashing across Bakugou as his skin pops. The professor takes in the damage from your ice and his explosions, still better controlled than most of his other students quirks. 
"I gotta stop pairing these two together." He murmurs to himself before dismissing class. With a flick of your wrist the ice fortress melts, returning to the reservoir below the gym floor, ignoring the molten glare that is sent your way.
"You're such a bitch." Bakugou growls as you pass, flinging blood from his fingers as he wipes at his face. You offer him a fake pitying smile before heading into the women's locker room. 
"Fucking asshole." You hiss, forcing the sight of his garnet gaze out of your mind. Instead turning your attention to your buzzing phone in your locker. It's a few missed calls and some texts in the girl's group chat. Briefly you wonder if you ever should have joined that stupid sorority, it was small, non toxic, and would look good should you need to transfer again. 
Not only did you somehow get elected the president but you also became friends with the three other ladies despite your best efforts not too. 
Mins: Prez we might have a way to save the sorority...lunch after you're done with training? 
IceQueen ❄: Hope it's good, the Dean already put the house up for sale. Let me get ready and I'll be there shortly. 
Mina presents her phone to the crowd around her, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro and Uraraka do a small celebration. Denki more so than anyone else, he knows the combined car washes will be more than enough to fix up the house, he also recently learned that you had the power of negotiation on your side. Having just listened to Mina retell the story of how you got free food for a month from a bar for yourself and your friends. And not from some sleaze who wanted to sleep with you either, no it was from the owner himself. 
Denki is hopeful and so are the ladies indicating that this may be his best idea yet. 
You arrive at the small bistro early, spying your party on the front patio. The three men had seen you in person before, they knew you were easy on the eyes but up close you were breathtaking. Manicured nails but nothing gaudy, normally nude or soft shades, light makeup, mascara at most as far as they could tell and your outfit was well put together. You were what the world called plus size but everyone else called thiccc. Your confidence oozing in your light blouse tucked into your black skinny jeans, uncaring that you had a pouch. 
You needed that extra fat to keep from freezing by your own quirk. The only thing you needed society to worry about was your intelligence and your power. 
Both were SSR ranked so what did you fucking care that your body was ranked lower. They were stupid in thinking you'd skimp power in the name of vanity. 
You recognize everyone at the table and internalize the dread you're feeling. Scheming is afoot and you're the last to arrive. You can tell by their half finished drinks and picked over appetizer, still you sit and act unaware. Denki goes to hold out his hand first for a formal introduction causing a sly cat smile to settle over your glossy lips. 
"No need, I'm aware of who the three of you are. Sero we share our lingual class, Denki, our chemistry class, and Kirishima we share two classes, world studies and villain hero theory. Truly a pleasure." You tell then your name before ordering something to drink from the lingering waitress. Sitting stick straight with your shoulders backs has the men mirroring you. 
"Well ladies I take it the plan to save the sorority involves these fine gentlemen." You ask coolly and they nod. After a moment of silence Mina and Denki go to speak. Awkwardly encouraging the other to speak until Minai clears her throat. 
"As you know they are a newly formed frat with Sero as their president. They moved into their house about a month ago and they say it is quite large. So they have invited us to move in." 
"How do you propose we ask the college to have a co-ed house? What does this fraternity home even look like?" They knew you would be quick to ask questions Mina answers the first while Denki provides the answer to the second. 
"Union and Diversity. Forming close relationships now to carry over into our hero careers." 
"The house needs some work but looks a lot better than what it did." Denki shows you before and after pictures as you gesture for his phone. He passes you his electric yellow case with nervous hope tingling beneath his skin. You swipe through the photos. 
"You boys did a great job on the outside. Inside needs a lot of work. Hardwoods will be easy to fix, they are original but don't seen to be damaged, a good scrub will spruce them up. Wait, are those?" You zoom in on the photo of the living room, "Are those foldable camping chairs and a VHS tv?" 
They gulp loudly as they nod, your purse your lips in disapproval. 
"I can fix that." You pass Denki back his phone, assuming that all the roommates will be present, "I see the main focus was the kitchen but some of the appliances seem to be on their last legs. I can fix that as well." 
"Soooo….So it's a yes?" Jiro asks, feeling relief for the first time in months since they received the letter of eviction. 
"Gotta get the college to agree first." You think on it a moment, "But I'm sure we can arrange that. Uraraka can you draft an email to the Dean requesting an official meeting regarding our sorority? Be sure to explain in detail our situation, how we are being forced to disband by their account and the solution we have. Make sure it's an afternoon meeting too. The dean hates to miss golf with our rival university's dean." 
With the plan set in motion all of you return to your evening classes. Jiro nudges Denki in the ribs, listening to his heart race from their closeness. 
"When are we going to tell her about Bakugou?" She throws her almost lover a look that he seems to wither beneath. His jaw tics before he retorts. 
"I think we should wait to see if this even works first." 
After a week the important meeting arrives and as you thought the Dean is already exhibiting signs of impatience. He is more than ready to wrap this up and you already know his answer is going to be no. Already trying to get it out before the four of you can even have a seat. 
Still you weren't the Ice Queen on campus for nothing. You saunter into the room, mineola folder filled with your copies of counterpoints pressed firmly to your chest, you can already see he doesn't have the copies you sent him. You place the folder down and open it, leafing through the pages as you speak. 
"This request is going to be approved and here are the reasons why. An example of sexism could be made that a new fraternity was approved housing, new housing, after a decades old sorority was deemed "too small" both parties are similar in count. Second funding and donations are easily influenced with letters to alumni and especially by attendees to this university. My transfer from YAU has brought in revenue of roughly 2.6 million dollars, increasing your diversity for women when this is normally a male dominated school. I am aware that my transfer had even encouraged other students from YAU to transfer here. Which I'm sure is one of your favorite bragging points to tell Dean Fraunk during your weekly golf trips isn't it? So it would truly be a shame if these points would come to light in the investigation of my return to YUA just months before the university sports festival. I do look amazing in Ice Blue you know. Matches my quirk a lot better than Maroon." You put the ball in his court, he is visibly upset, eyes flying to the facts that you've presented. All important, viable facts. You were right MMU was known to be a male dominated school and the media would have a field day if they uncovered a mistake he happened to look over. Not to mention you were his main bragging point, Dean Yuzi always talked about how he had stolen you, the female star of rising heroes, from YUA.  The silence in the room is amplified by the ticking of the clock, seconds accumulating into minutes as it counts down his T time with his old college buddy and rival. He gulps nervously, knowing what he has to do in order to keep both his bragging rights and a law suit under wraps. He looks up to you as you wear your stone cold face, making him think of a loan shark who hasn't been getting their payments on time. He is fearful for your future boss.  
"I believe I have no choice but to approve." 
"Correct." You respond, "Now we have a bit more to discuss. I noticed that classrooms 456 and 215 are being remodeled. Those gently used flat screens will be given to our house since it is technically college property. Common space 3 and 1 are being renovated in dorms A and B. We will accept the leather arm chairs as they are in good shape but we demand a new couch. I know it is in the budget as I help plan the budget. I also believe it is time for an allowance for our hybrid house." The Dean shrinks away from your tenacity, nodding as that is all he can do.  
"Well this is a generous offer and should cover most of the basic necessities such as a new fridge and mattress. The aesthetic we will be raising funds for. Kindly spread the word, we don't want to take up more of your time and be late with your 'meeting' with Dean Fraunk." You place a flyer on his desk as you turn on your heel. The rest of the sorority, mouth agape following suit. Yuzi looks down at the flyer, head hung in a mixture of disbelief and shame as he reads over the neon paper advertising a co-ed car wash. 
He just hopes you and Bakugou are worth the trouble. 
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letterboxd · 3 years
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A Cinematic Outcoming.
From Istanbul to Chicago, and C.R.A.Z.Y. to Spirited Away, Letterboxd member, writer and film programmer Emre Eminoğlu explores the films that drove his gay awakening.
“I see it as my duty to never shut up about how representation matters.” —Emre Eminoğlu
I was one of the luckiest ones, yet I had no idea how lucky I was. Growing up in Istanbul, Turkey, a predominantly patriarchal, conservative and homophobic society, my luck was being born into an open-minded, secular and loving family.
In this bubble, I was isolated from the struggles of the majority of my people. I was not bullied at school by my peers, I was not forced into being someone else by my family. Yet I still had that voice in my head. As soon as I realized something could be different with me, I became my own bully and forcefully adopted a fictional persona: ‘exceptionally normal’.
Coming out was hard, but coming out to myself was harder. Although I was perfectly aware of my sexual identity, I could not come to terms with the possibility of being ‘abnormal’. Cue cinema. Watching films was a way of escape for high-school Emre—it still is—and it was inevitable that I would come across some LGBTQ+ films. I was not consciously in search of a ‘truth’ about myself but I started seeing my reflection in them, as they slowly disarmed the bully I involuntarily created.
Twenty years later, now, as a 34-year-old gay man professionally writing on cinema and television, I see it as my duty to never shut up about how representation matters. Streaming LGBTQ+ shows on various platforms, seeing widely released, mainstream LGBTQ+ films, listening to the music of openly LGBTQ+ stars, and hearing words of wisdom like “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”, I am confident that the personal, inner bully that I created twenty years ago would not survive a week in today’s world.
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‘C.R.A.Z.Y.’ (2005)
Jean-Marc Vallée’s C.R.A.Z.Y. (2005) was definitely not the first LGBTQ+ film I ever watched, but it was an invaluable juncture in my life. It was a hot summer in Istanbul, freshman year of college was over. One of my best friends, who had been accompanying me through most of my cinematic discoveries, told me about a French-Canadian film with this guy on the film poster with David Bowie makeup on his face. We headed to an independent theater in Kadıköy to see it.
Zachary Beaulieu was different. As the lone gay son in a family of five boys, he too was forcefully adopting a fictional persona, and his way of escape was music. He was constantly worried about how to be worthy of his parents’ love, how to realize their ideals of him, and how his difference and truth contradicted all of that. Zac’s 1960s basically mirrored my story in the 2000s. I perfectly muted the life-changing enlightenment I was going through and did not vocalize my inner screams.
In two hours, C.R.A.Z.Y. helped me realize my true self and admit my sexual identity after all those years. It was a personal threshold I had been longing to cross… but there was still a lot to go through.
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‘Les Amours Imaginaires’ (Heartbeats, 2010)
Liking someone, falling for someone, being loved, dating someone, sex, refusals, misinterpretations, heartbreaks, break-ups, bad sex. On the other side of the closet, I was being introduced to new, sometimes euphoric, sometimes gut-wrenching experiences. But coming out to my friends was still a challenge. I was feeling so lonely keeping all these wonderful and horrible experiences in my chest.
But I was not alone: LGBTQ+ films were my life’s understudy. The same heartbreaks, worries, and disappointments I was going through were right there on the silver screen. I took note as two best friends, Francis and Marie, fall for the same guy and navigate their friendship in Xavier Dolan’s Les Amours Imaginaires (Heartbeats, 2010). I studied how a popular student, Jarle, falls for the new guy in school, but cannot risk his reputation to be with him in Stian Kristiansen’s Mannen som Elsket Yngve (The Man Who Loved Yngve, 2008) and I watched as close friends Tobi and Achim become lovers, until one’s need to keep everything secret threatens to destroy the relationship in Marco Kreuzpaintner’s Sommersturm (Summer Storm, 2004).
Things were not always accessible via online platforms and the internet, so film festivals were often the only chance to see the latest independent and queer films. Two of the biggest film festivals in Istanbul, thankfully, had LGBTQ+-focused sections; !f’s Gökkuşağı (Rainbow) and Istanbul Film Festival’s Nerdesin aşkım? (Where are you, my love?) felt like home.
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‘Tomboy’ (2011)
Being the lone avid cinephile among my friends, I was used to seeing half of my festival picks alone. Even before coming out to myself, my hopes for a romantic relationship included, among other things, having a festival partner. When I, fortunately, found the one, I was delighted to have also found the perfect festival partner. Shortly after our first month together, the first film we saw at a film festival was Céline Sciamma’s Tomboy (2011).
Although I was a 24 year old cis man, I was more than able to empathize with the title character, a ten-year-old trans boy. With his family unaware of his true identity, Mickaël experiences the liberation of a fresh start when ‘mistaken’ for a boy after they move to a new neighborhood—finally able to introduce himself as Mickaël, not Laure.
Changing my career path, a new job in the creative industry, and a stable relationship had similar effects on me. I was still not completely out to my parents, or some of my friends, schoolmates, and acquaintances from my past, but I was freed of the obligation to explain anything to my new friends or colleagues. I would proudly introduce them to my boyfriend, or simply correct people by saying I was attracted to men during a conversation. The perfect festival partner turned out to be a perfect partner as well—over the past ten years, he has helped me grow and be proud of myself.
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‘Weekend’ (2011)
We moved in together in the fifth year of our relationship. Right above our bed hangs a poster of Andrew Haigh’s Weekend (2011). At the time we saw it, it was just another film that we watched together and liked—no significance, no symbolism. It is the story of two young men, Russell and Glen, who are fascinated by the connection they find between each other, and are surprised how their one-night-stand evolved into the perfect weekend. When Glen reveals that he will be leaving for another country the very next day, it only makes their connection stronger, and their time together more precious. Being a timid and socially anxious person, none of my romantic relationships or my friendships had formed this organically. Even my first date with my partner was a disaster. We built what we have now over time, slowly and patiently. I did not believe in ‘weekends’.
And yet, one summer night, we met a guy on Grindr, as we occasionally did. What we thought was just another one night stand was in fact a transformative experience for us both. Intense conversation, a triple connection, the drinks we enjoyed instead of hurrying to bed, and the passionate sex turned that casual one-night-stand into a magical reality for us. We realized that we still had feelings and instincts to discover in ourselves and in each other. Over a week-long, unexpected, unpredictable polyamorous fling, we learned to act as one instead of two—only to find out that he was leaving for another country the very next week. This was our ‘weekend’.
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‘Hamam’ (Steam: The Turkish Bath, 1997)
Thinking how LGBTQ+ films of other cultures and languages had played a significant role in some precious, threshold-crossing moments of my life, it was alienating not being able to feel embraced and represented openly in Turkish cinema. There were certainly multiple Turkish LGBTQ+ films or characters, but they were in films addressing more urgent issues—right to live, violence against LGBTQ+ individuals, honor murders, trans murders—rather than the nuanced experience of queer love.
Although I discovered it years after it was released, Italian-Turkish director Ferzan Özpetek’s Hamam (Steam: The Turkish Bath, 1997) was a mind-blowing experience for me. The relationship, and the sexual tension, between Francesco, the Italian heir to a building with a Turkish bath in it, and Mehmet, the young son of the family managing the compound, felt much closer to my story and my cultural, familial identity.
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Aşk, Büyü vs. (Love, Spells and All That, 2019)
Today, I am glad to see more and more filmmakers finding the courage to maintain the LGBTQ+ narrative in Turkish cinema, despite the oppressive, intolerant and exclusionary policies. Some are telling the youthful, urban stories I was longing for at the time: In Leyla Yılmaz’s Bilmemek (Not Knowing, 2019), Umut, a high-school athlete from a middle-class family in Istanbul, is bullied by his so-called modern and open-minded teammates after not replying to a query about whether he is gay or not. In Ümit Ünal’s Aşk, Büyü vs. (Love, Spells and All That, 2019), Eren and Reyhan, two adult women reunite in the magical atmosphere of The Princes’ Islands on the Istanbul coast, decades after they were forcefully separated by their parents.
The story of me coming out to myself all started with an urge to escape reality through cinema, and on the way, I found films that gave meaning to my muddled existence. When I saw Levan Akin’s And Then We Danced (2019), I smiled as I noticed the Spirited Away poster in Merab’s room; this minor detail another reminder that I was not alone. Merab, a gay dancer who is part of a very traditional and conservative Georgian dance company, was dealing with similar challenges in his life. He was trying to discover his true identity in a society that does not celebrate being different. He was too, finding an escape in cinema.
Coming out was hard. It still is. A recent Instagram post by the 27-year-old actor Connor Jessup, who came out as gay two years ago, reminded me coming out is not a single moment, but a never-ending process, a ‘becoming’. He writes, “When I first came out, a friend wrote to me and said, ‘Now you can really start coming out.’ Start? I thought. I just did it. But he was right. […] I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to keep looking.”
I keep trying, and looking. Learning about myself, my identity, my relationship. And LGBTQ+ films keep helping and inspiring me, just as they did in my journey to accept myself and become the person I am today. This is the power of cinema; unconsciously, you see your past, actuality and possibilities through the stories filmmakers tell. And I am so grateful to these filmmakers.
Related content
The Ten Greatest Turkish Films of All Time, according to the Turkish Film Critics’ Association
Emre’s Favorite LGBTQ+ Films: a personal top 50
Queer Films in Turkish Cinema—a list by Atakan
The Top 100 Turkish Movies of the 21st Century: Emre’s personal favorites
24 notes · View notes
illfoandillfie · 3 years
Note
Pls just more Ben smut, any idea that comes to mind for the blurbs thingy, all your work are some of my favs and there can never be enough Benny 😫🥵😍
ahhhh thank you! And you’re so right, there can never be enough Benny.
This idea has been in my head for the last week-ish, so i decided to use it and ended up writing like 2.7k for it lmao i hope you like it!
warnings: Smut, dollification, dom!ben, oral (m receiving), and a little bit of biting
Advent Blurbs: Day 12
“Urgh, what else is on?” Ben asked, juggling his dinner plate as he reached for the TV remote. He flicked through some channels but it all looked as boring as the rest. Finally, he settled on the second half of an episode of Britain’s Got Talent. It wasn’t what you usually watched but Ben had already said he didn’t want to get invested in anything on Netflix because he had some work to do after dinner and didn’t want to be distracted from it. It was partway through an act when you switched it on, some sort of acrobatics thing, mildly impressive but not so much that you couldn’t talk through it between bites of your food. The next act was a very pitchy singer and the one after the ad break was some sort of magic act, but you barely noticed them. Ben certainly didn’t have any issues with ignoring the show in favour of your conversation either. Until a woman stepped out on stage dressed up in a puffy skirt with a wind up gear on her back. She danced, her movements intentionally stiff as if she were a music box doll that had escaped. Ben was entranced, his fork hovering above his plate as if he’d forgotten he was about to take a bite. His eyes never left the screen for the entirety of the performance. You were more amused by Ben’s reaction than the performance itself but as the dancing came to an end and Ben returned to his senses you agreed with his appraisal of her.
“She was good,” he said, adjusting his plate over his lap.
Ben ate a few more bites before taking his dishes to the kitchen. He dropped a kiss to the top of your head as he passed back through the living room.
“I’ll be in the study if you need me.”
You nodded and reached for the remote to find something better to watch.
 You didn’t see Ben again until you were heading to bed though at one point you got up to use the bathroom and heard a muffled groan from behind the closed door to the study. You figured he was grappling with a particularly difficult script or something like that and left him to it. As you were settling into bed with a book, Ben entered the room. He joined you on the bed but plucked the book from your hands as he kissed you. 
You broke off with a breathless sort of laugh, “what was that for?”
“Can I not just kiss my girlfriend for the hell of it?”
“I s’pose that’s allowed,” you giggled as Ben caught your lips again. But Ben was clearly in the mood for more than a kiss, nipping at your neck as he settled on top of you. And it didn’t take him long at all to get your pants off.
Both of you slept well that night and you thought nothing of it until a couple of days later.
 You were watching TV again while Ben was out with some friends but looked around at the sound of the door opening.
“How was it?” you asked as Ben dropped onto the couch beside you.
“Yeah great. Had a few games of poker which was fun.”
“You win any?”
“Not one,” he laughed, “But I di-” Ben paused, his attention drawn to the TV as an ad for Britain’s Got Talent started. It featured clips from the doll dancer’s performance and once again Ben seemed to be completely entranced by it for the duration of the ad. They showed her doing a move that involved lifting her leg up high and Ben let out a soft groan. You waited for the ad to finish and Ben’s attention to shift back to you. 
“What was I saying?” he asked, giving his head a little shake.
“Do you think she’s hot?”
“What?”
“The girl dressed as a doll.” You clarified.
“Babe, no,”
“No, I’m not upset. You’re allowed to find other women attractive. I’m just curious cause every time she’s on screen you sort of get lost in it.”
“No, it’s not her, not exactly,”
“What does that mean?”
Ben filled his cheeks with air and slowly let it out, “It’s the way she’s dressed.”
You waited for him to explain further. 
“You know Jessie in Toy Story 2? I had a pretty big crush on her as a kid and then as a teenager it kind of sparked a few, um, well… I got off to her a lot.”
You had to giggle at that and Ben laughed softly too, his cheeks flushed. 
“Yeah, kinda silly but it started cause she was a cute cowgirl and I was horny all the time and so it was just like the natural thing to do.  But then, as I learnt more about sex, I started thinking about fucking her too. And it all kind of snowballed.”
“So that’s why you think the doll dancer is hot? Cause of Toy Story?”
“Kind of. There’s a bit more to it. See, um, one of my mates from high school had a hot older sister. Red hair she used to wear in a plait. Might have had the hots for her cause she reminded me of Jessie. So then I started getting off to the thought of fucking her. Except there was all this doll stuff mixed up in there too.”
“What do you mean?” 
“Like the idea of posable limbs and, um… Cause with Jessie, right, she’s a soft ragdoll type of doll, yeah? So a lot of what I’d imagined with her was like a human sized version of her that would lie there like a limp ragdoll while I fucked her. And that was sort of where it started with the idea of the hot sister but then I hit phases where I thought about other sorts of dolls more. As a joke one Christmas my brother got me a off brand Barbie so after that in the fantasies she’d be like a posable plastic doll who I could position how I wanted. Sometimes it was like a wind up doll who had limited movement when I wound her up. Sometimes she’d have a voicebox and I’d press a button or pull a string and she’d say something dirty, ask for it harder or moan or whatever.” Ben looked at you nervously, “I know it’s weird. But…yeah.”
“It’s not that weird,” you said, grabbing his hand between both of yours, “I think I kind of get why it’d be hot. Would, um, would you ever want to do that with me?”
“Babe, you don’t have to do that. I only mentioned it because you asked, I wasn’t trying to get you into it or anything.”
“No, I know. But would you? If I wanted to would you be into that?”
“Well, yeah, I would be into it. I mean, not gonna lie I have kind of thought about it before.”
“Really? Dressing me up and posing me?”
“Yeah,”
“That’s kinda hot,” you giggled again and Ben seemed to relax.
“I’m glad you don’t think it’s too weird, but I’m serious, you don’t have to indulge this idea at all.”
“Okay. Thank you for telling me though.” You pulled him down into a soft kiss that you hoped would reassure him that you weren’t freaked out by his confession, but already your mind was spinning with ideas.
 The next day you dug through your wardrobe and found your most suitably doll like dress. It wasn’t as ruffled as the dancer’s skirt had been but it was short and felt like something a slutty doll might wear. You decided to forgo underwear since most dolls didn’t have them and slipped the dress over your head. Following a youtube tutorial, you did your make up so your eyes would look bigger and doll like and used a soft pink lipstick to shape your lips before adding a little blush to your cheeks. You gave your hair a brush through to make sure it was smooth and then took a seat on the edge of the bed, holding yourself stiff with your hands in your lap, and called out to Ben.
You heard his footsteps approaching and then the bedroom door swung open.
“Oh my god,”
You had to bite your cheek to keep from smiling too much.
Ben took a few tentative steps towards you and then stopped, taking in the sight, “I can’t believe you did this,” he said softly, “fuck I’m lucky.” He stepped closer, running his fingers though the hair around your ear. You shivered slightly as his fingers traced along your jaw, coming to rest at your chin. He tilted your head up and leaned down to kiss you softly.
It was hard to sit still as Ben ran his hands down your shoulders and towards your breasts. He spent a while just fondling you, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples. You could feel your nipples stiffening and fought the urge to arch your back and push your chest against his hands, though you couldn’t quite hide the soft whine the rose up at the attention. Ben didn’t mind though. You saw him smile at the sound, and the tent in the front of his pants was evidence enough that he liked your surprise.
“What should I do with you?” he muttered to himself as he began to undress down to his boxers. He stepped in close again once the extra layers had been removed and placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing you towards his crotch. A damp patch had already begun to form on the front of his pants and it only grew as he rubbed his clothed cock against your face. You focused on breathing to keep from moving though all you could smell was his musky arousal. When he finally sat you back you unconsciously licked your lips, able to taste his precum on them.
“Let’s stand you up Doll,” he said, pulling you to your feet and repositioning your legs so they were parted a little wider. He moved your arms too, still bent at the elbow but raised higher so he could freely lift your dress. The sight of your bare pussy pulled a growl from Ben and he wasted no more time, licking his fingers and rubbing them along your slit. You were already a little wet (it surprised you just how much of a turn on the whole thing was) but the way he roughly grabbed your arse in one hand as his other explored your cunt soon had you even wetter. He pressed the heel of his hand against your clit as he teased your entrance with his fingertips, sinking them in and pulling them out again.
“That’s a good fuck doll,” he said as he pressed his fingers deeper and you bit back a moan. When he was satisfied that you were ready he pulled his hands away. Turning you around he repositioned your limbs again, unfolding your arms so they stuck out in front of you. He pressed on your back, bending you forward at the waist so your arms were braced against the mattress and readjusted your legs. You waited, trying to keep steady and not whine as you listened to his underwear drop. And then he was right behind you, one hand on your hip as he slid into your cunt. You hadn’t realised just how into it Ben would be but the whole doll scenario had turned him feral. He didn’t give you much time to adjust, just started fucking you hard as growling noises rose in his throat. One of his hands moved to your hair, holding it in a vice like grip as he leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder. You gasped at the sudden spike of pain but it was gone half a second later, the imprint of his teeth left as evidence. Your legs shook with the effort of holding your position and the force of Ben’s thrusts. Suddenly you felt empty as he disappeared from your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your waist and nearly threw you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. He pushed you onto your back and repositioned you so that one leg was strait up in the air, the other bent towards you and both of your hands placed on it to hold it. He leaned against the edge of the bed, placing one knee onto the mattress so he could sink into you again, letting you rest the leg that was in the air against his shoulder. He didn’t reach quite as deep as he had when you’d been standing but the position let him watch your face. You kept it as impassive as possible though you couldn’t keep from opening your mouth and moaning as he dropped his thumb to your clit. He leaned forward, pressing your legs closer to your body as he fucked you.
“Cum for me Doll,” he commanded, pressing harder against your clit, “cum all over my cock.”
It didn’t take much longer for you to reach your release, moaning as Ben kept fucking you. He pulled out of you again and readjusted you once more, pushing your arms aside as he pulled  you to sit up, bringing your head forward. He squeezed your cheeks to keep your mouth open as pressed his cock between your lips.
“Taste yourself Doll.” He pushed you further down his length until you gagged and then pulled back out again, gripping your hair and rubbing your face against his cock, smearing your face with saliva and your own juices, before slipping it into your mouth once more. “Taste all that creamy cum you made,” he snapped his hips forward, fucking into you, his cock twitching against your tongue as he neared his own orgasm. He growled again as he came, replacing the taste of you with his own.
 You weren’t sure if he’d want to do more so you sat there, cum pooled on your tongue, keeping yourself as still as possible though breathing heavier than before, waiting to be moved around again. Ben tentatively sat beside you on the edge of the bed and stoked your hair again, watching closely.
“I’m done,” he said softly, “You don’t need to be a doll anymore.”
You sighed and stood, reaching for the box of tissues that lived on your nightstand.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked, biting his lip, “Sorry if that was too much, I shouldn’t have told you about it.”
You shook your head before pressing a tissue to your lips and spitting the cum into it, “Ben I’m okay, I promise. You know I don’t like swallowing.”
“Oh,” he gave you a shy smile and a small laugh, “Yeah, should have realised.”
You took the place beside him again, entwining your fingers with his as you leaned your head on his shoulder.
“So, you really are okay? That wasn’t too much?”
“Are you kidding? That was so fucking hot!” you laughed and lifted your head to look at him, “I’m very very very glad you told me.”
“And I wasn’t too rough? I mean I bit you, are you sure that was alright?”
“Ben, stop worrying. That was a big part of what made it so hot. You don’t get rough very often so seeing you like that, feeling you grab me and position me and all that, was fun.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes! You know I’d tell you if it didn’t feel good. I’ll just have to make sure I don’t wear anything sleeveless until the mark clears up.”
He laughed again and wrapped and arm around your waist to pull you in close, “That makes me feel a lot better. Thank you for doing that for me too, you’re an incredible girlfriend.”
“I am,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, “but you’re an incredible boyfriend too.”
Ben kissed you again but this time you kissed back, glad you were able to.
“We should probably clean up, babe,”
You nodded and stood up, hand still in Ben’s, pulling him along with you as you headed to the bathroom, “Next time we should try the ragdoll thing,”
“Next time?”
“Well I assume you’ll want to do it again. I definitely do.”
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hotpinkhoshi · 4 years
Text
long hot summer (m) | jinyoung
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as part of the pleasure chest: a got7 cringe collaboration
pairing: jinyoung x f reader genre: smut warnings: terrible innuendos, second hand embarrassment, explicit sex, light choking word count: 4.8k
summary: it’s been a long, hot summer, and you’ve got your eye on jinyoung, the sexy gardener your dad hired back in june - and when you’re left alone with the house to yourself for a whole week, you devise a plan to finally get what you want. when daddy’s away, his darling daughter will play…
a/n: hehe hi guys! this was super fun to write, even though i played myself by waiting until the very last minute to write it. for that reason, it is mostly unedited so cut me some slack if you see any weird typos hahaha. anyway, thank you to the other writers in the collab for such a fun experience! i’m so glad i got to be a part of this! enjoy!
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You awoke on Thursday morning with the same excitement that you’d had on Christmas morning when you were ten.
Today’s the day!
For weeks, you’d schemed and planned, researched and daydreamed. And now it was time to put all of your preparation to good use and get yourself the one thing you’d been wanting for the last two months.
Today, you were going to seduce your gardener.
Well, your father’s gardener, to be specific. You’d had your eye on him since the first day he pulled up in that forest green, beat up pickup truck with the giant lawnmower in the bed.
He was young, maybe a year or two older than you, but you weren’t sure. Your dad told you his name was Jinyoung and he’d started his own business after graduating high school, mostly just maintaining the massive yards of the upper middle class citizens of your neighborhood.
That was all fine and dandy, but most importantly, Jinyoung was hot.
He always wore the same thing—a plain white t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans, and you didn’t even care that they were light wash and could use a tailor’s touch. The way he rolled the sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off the corded muscles from years of manual labor, made you forget all about his hideous jeans.
Every Thursday, Jinyoung rolled up in his truck and took care of your dad’s lawn while you stood in the kitchen staring out the window like a peeping Tom. You were completely aware that you were objectifying him, but it had been quite a while since anyone had watered your buds, and you had become shameless.
But this week, this week you’d decided to make a move.
Your dad was away on business for five days, leaving you with the house completely to yourself. You had put your time to good use, clicking away and devising a plan to get into Jinyoung’s pants.
Your research began on Monday when your best friend, Jongin, had come over. You had a strange relationship, but that was to be expected when you had known him since diapers. He also happened to have taken your virginity, but it wasn’t as awkward as one would think.
“Guys like it when a girl takes charge,” Jongin told you, reaching for a slice of pizza off the coffee table. You laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling while taking mental notes of everything he told you.
“Take charge how?”
“I don’t know, like, make the first move. Just get on top of him and…” Jongin gestured vaguely with his hands, squeezing the air.
“And what? Grab his boobs?” You pursed your lips together, tossing a spare chunk of crust at him.
“If that’s what he’s into,” Jongin defended with a playful smirk on his lips. “Look, I’m just saying, it’s hot when you know a girl is into you and you don’t have to guess.”
Chewing your lip, you stored the information away for later. “What should I wear? Like, should I just walk outside in my bikini?”
Jongin snorted. “You could, yeah. Some guys are simple like that.”
“Hmm…” you propped yourself up on your elbows. “He doesn’t seem simple. He’s like, mysterious and quiet.”
“Doesn’t matter, I bet he’ll still stare at your ass while you walk away.”
You smirked. Luckily, you had stayed committed to your squats this summer.
“Okay, so I make a move. Then what?”
Jongin looked at you like you had two heads. “What do you mean, then what? Then you guys do the deed.”
Sighing dramatically, you flopped back onto the floor. You wanted more than that—you wanted him to end the day thinking about how sexy you were, how it had been his hottest experience ever. You wanted him to tell his friends about it at parties.
The next night, you continued your quest for knowledge with some visual aids. You got yourself all comfy and tucked in bed, laptop resting on your lap while you scrolled through Pornhub.
Jongin was right—it was hot when the girls took charge. Sure, there was something to be said for the submissive, meek girl that dropped to her knees on command, but you wanted control.
As you got deeper into the black hole of XXX websites, you found yourself becoming more and more nervous. You didn’t look like the girls in these videos, with their perfectly trimmed pubic hair and their toned physiques. Your boobs were less than half the size of some of these women.
You also didn’t find yourself naturally sexy, comfortable approaching a man and throwing yourself at him. But you wanted Jinyoung, and all of that trumped any kind of insecurity you could feel. Soon, you’d be back at college and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let the opportunity pass you by.
Cut to now—standing in the kitchen in your teeny tiny workout shorts and an equally revealing tank top, your yoga mat rolled up and tucked under your arm. You saw Jinyoung outside, kneeling in front of one of the flower beds and giving you the perfect view of his side profile.
When you were just about to slide open the glass door and put your plan into action, your phone vibrated on the kitchen table. You jumped and went to answer it promptly after you saw who was calling.
“Hi Daddy,” you said, setting your yoga mat on the floor.
“Hi love, how’s it going?”
“Good,” you answered, eyes still locked on the back yard. Jinyoung sat back on his heels, bringing his forearm up to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. God, he was the finest man you’d ever seen.
“Hey, I forgot to tell you, make sure you give Jinyoung the check I left on the counter for the week. And be nice to him, it’s hot outside today—invite him in for a glass of water or something.”
Your lips curled into a devious smile. “I’ll be nice to him. Don’t worry.”
“That’s my girl.”
Your dad talked your ear off for a bit longer, telling you all about his flight and something about conference calls, blah blah. All the while, you were entirely focused on something else.
Jinyoung had lifted the front of his shirt up to his face, wiping his sweat once more and revealing his washboard abs. It was only a few seconds, but you felt yourself come close to flatlining right there in the kitchen.
Your phone beeped against your ear, the alert tone signaling that you had a missed call. You glanced at the screen to find Jongin’s name on the notification.
“I have to go, Jongie called,” you told him.
“Oh alright, tell him I said hello. And be good,” your dad said.
“I will. Bye, Daddy.” You took the phone from your ear, returning Jongin’s call with a few taps.
“Hey ugly, how’s it going?”
“I’m going to fuck his brains out,” you answered simply.
Jongin choked on the other end. “Like, right now?”
“No,” you answered, going over to the fridge to pull open the door. “But I’m about to go out and start seducing him. He’s here and he’s so hot. I’m gonna go out, do some yoga, and see if he needs help… with his hose.”
Your best friend snorted. “Don’t say that.”
You grabbed two water bottles, both ice cold, and tucked them between your arm and your chest. “I want him to know that I want him.”
“Okay, well, if a girl referred to my dick as a hose I’m pretty sure it would shrivel up. Just go flash your tits and call it a day.”
Sighing, you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, letting the fridge door shut behind you as you turned away. “No, that’s not sexy. Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I’ve been watching porn for two days straight.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ. Fine, just… look, just one little word of advice. Don’t make that face you made with me, the one when you came.”
You stopped in your tracks on your way back over to the door. “What face?”
Jongin cleared his throat. Your first time had been a long time ago just before graduation after a bottle of tequila and your confession that you didn’t want to go to college a virgin. He’d taken one for the team, giving you exactly six minutes of pleasure before finishing on your bedspread.
You hadn’t come, then, you’d simply faked it for his benefit. But still, you hadn’t realized anything you’d done had been unattractive. What if you did make a weird face when you came?
“You know what, nevermind. I don’t want to know. Goodbye, asshole.”
“Good luck, slut.”
With a sigh, you hung up and placed your phone back on the table. When you glanced outside, Jinyoung had moved further down the flower bed, giving you a nice view of his broad back, his shoulder muscles moving under his shirt with every move he made.
Be sexy. Don’t be weird.
You grabbed your mat by its strap and pushed open the glass door, walking out onto the concrete of your back patio and onto the grass. Your yard wasn’t as big as some of your neighbors’, but there was still a good amount of distance between you and Jinyoung. It wasn’t too awkward for you to lay your mat down across the freshly mowed grass, in direct sunlight.
When Jinyoung glanced back at you, you felt your heart jump in your chest, warm from the sun and his gaze. Fuck. Words, what were words?!
“Need some water?” you asked, holding one of the full bottles out in his direction. “You’re hot. I mean, it’s hot.” You gulped and prayed he hadn’t noticed the slip of your tongue.
Jinyoung stood from his knees, utterly silent, as he seemed to look you up and down. It was hard to tell with the sun in your eyes, but it almost looked like he had been checking you out.
He was quiet, still, even as he began walking towards you. As he got closer, you were desperately trying to keep your drool inside of your mouth. He reached out to grab the water bottle from you, surprising you with a dimpled half smile.
“Thanks.”
And then he walked away.
Fine, then you’d have to resort to plan B.
— x —
Plan B was a bust.
You’d laid out there for half an hour, sprawled out on your yoga mat as you contorted your body into several positions and stretches that had you aching in the worst of ways. Every time you looked at Jinyoung, he was focused on his job, pulling weeds or planting soil or whatever it was that he got paid to do.
With an exasperated sigh, you slammed the glass door shut behind you once you were back in the kitchen. Stupid boys. No, he wasn’t a boy. He was a man, and maybe that was the problem.
Grabbing your phone, you opened Jongin’s text thread.
You [12:07pm]: UGH. fuck this. Jongin [12:08pm]: no dick yet? You [12:08pm]: no. i basically turned myself into a pretzel and he couldn’t have cared less. my rose petals were in plain sight and he didn’t even look once Jongin [12:10pm]: LOL show him ur boobs
You groaned and furrowed your brows, fully prepared to explain to Jongin that you didn’t think anything would work at this point, when you heard the glass kitchen door slide open.
Jinyoung walked through, sweat dripping deliciously down his temples and down the vein lining his neck. “Hey, just need to wash my hands. I’ll just be a minute.”
Then he was so close to you, you could smell his cologne, mixed with the earthy scent of the garden he’d just had his hands buried into. He stared down at you, licking his lips while his gaze bored into you like he wanted something. No, needed something.
Maybe the tables had turned.
“Can you move?”
You blinked. “Huh?”
Jinyoung tipped his chin. “I need to wash my hands.”
You hadn’t realized it, but in your angry pacing while texting Jongin, you’d ended up standing right in front of the kitchen sink.
“Oh,” you breathed, and still didn’t move for another moment until annoyance flashed in Jinyoung’s eyes. You side stepped and watched as Jinyoung took your place, reaching to pump some soap onto his hands.
“So…” you started. All you needed to do was strike up a conversation, and it would be easy from there. “Do you need any help?”
Jinyoung glanced at you. “...Washing my hands?”
“No, like…” You used your shoulder to nudge towards the back yard. “Out there. I could help you, um, empty your hose.”
Oh, god. Jongin was right. It wasn’t sexy at all.
“I mean,” you tried again. “I could lend you a hand. If you know what I mean.”
If Jinyoung knew what you meant, he didn’t show any interest. He just shrugged and focused on scrubbing the dirt from his fingernails. You gulped at the way the veins on the back of his hands flexed. You wanted those hands on you, ASAP.
“Jinyoung,” you said, scooting an inch closer as you leaned back against the counter. “What I’m trying to say is…”
“I’ll stop you there,” he said, turning off the faucet. “I know where this is going. You’ve been staring at me all summer, and I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all afternoon.”
You blinked in surprise. Had you been that obvious? Well, of course you had. That was the goal, anyway. Jongin had told you it was sexy when a girl was obvious…
“I’m just trying to do my job,” Jinyoung said, reaching for a kitchen towel to wipe his hands. “Not looking to get murdered by your dad for defiling his perfectly innocent daughter.”
It took you a minute for his words to sink in, for you to realize that he hadn’t said he wasn’t interested. He wanted to defile you.
Just as Jinyoung went to leave, you grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”
Jinyoung sighed, turning back to you with dark eyes. “Let it go. Don’t test my patience.”
Something about the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, images flashing through your mind of other ways that he could look at you, how you could get him to do more to you.
“Don’t you want to…” you bit your lip, emulating those girls you’d seen in videos, trailing your fingertips up his chest. “Touch me? I’ve prettied my flower up, just for you…”
Jinyoung gave you a look somewhere between uncomfortable and turned on. His hand came up to wrap around your wrist, his thumb pressed to your pulse point. “I said let it go.”
Warmth spread your entire body as Jinyoung gazed down at you, his callused fingers gripping tightly onto your wrist, stopping your fingers on their path up his chest. Something told you he wanted you, maybe just as bad as you wanted him, and it had quickly turned from a fantasy into a reality.
“Make me,” you told him.
When he didn’t respond, just swallowed hard and tensed his jaw, you reached with your free hand for his tool belt. You hooked your finger into the loop of the belt, pulling his body closer to you.
“Touch me, Jinyoung.”
“Don’t,” he growled, the sound shooting straight to your core.
“I’ll be a good girl. My dad never has to know,” you tried once more, looking up at him through your lashes. His breathing had gotten heavier and his eyes narrowed as they locked on yours. It felt like a bomb was about to go off, just tick-ticking away until he exploded.
“You have three seconds.”
Three.
You closed the gap between your bodies, sliding your hand from Jinyoung’s belt to find his free hand.
Two.
Wrapping your fingers around his hand, you led it to rest on your lower back.
One.
His hand, entirely on its own, slid from your lower back down along the curve of your backside to grip your ass. You swallowed, running your tongue across your lips. You felt like a woman starved and Jinyoung was your only source of a meal.
Finally, Jinyoung let go of your wrist and instead gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling you close until he could slam his lips upon yours. You whimpered at the rough contact, but your whimper quickly turned to a moan as soon as he brought your bodies together.
It was a blur after that.
You found the clasp to Jinyoung’s belt and quickly unbuckled it, letting it fall to the ground. You ignored the sound of the tools clanking against your kitchen floor, making a mental note that you’d have to sweep the dirt off the tiles before your dad got home.
Jinyoung made no move to take your clothes off--it seemed he was more than satisfied with kissing you and squeezing your ass. But you wanted more, you had been thirsting after him for so long, you wanted to cut to the chase.
What would those girls have done? They would take charge.
So you pulled back from the kiss and grabbed Jinyoung’s forearm, leading him without a word out of the kitchen and into the living room. The cleaning lady had already been here earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about Jinyoung catching sight of your half eaten bag of pretzels or the many issues of Cosmo you’d flipped through in these last few days.
You shoved him down to sit on the chair and knelt between his legs, shoving them apart so that you could occupy the space instead. Your fingers practically tore open the button and zipper of his jeans and you reached into his underwear, freeing his erection.
“Whoa, whoa, slow do-” Jinyoung started, but the words died on his tongue as soon as you got your mouth on him.
You bobbed your head, relishing in the feeling of his cock filling your mouth, the tip easily reaching the back of your throat each time you went down. You gagged and coughed, knowing how much guys loved that. You’d been told once, by Jongin of course, that all you needed to do to give a good blowjob was to be sloppy and enthusiastic.
“Mm,” you mumbled as your lips wrapped around the head, opening your eyes to stare up at Jinyoung. He was breathing hard, hands gripping the leather arm rests. You pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand as you jerked him off. “You like that? You like… my mouth around your dick?”
Jinyoung groaned but reached for your hand, halting your efforts. He slid his other hand into your hair, pulling you away from his cock and making you look at him.
“Slow down, slow down.” He guided you with his own hand, creating a slow pace with your fingers wrapped around his length, his eyes still locked onto yours. “Fuck. Yeah, like that.”
“I wanna…” you thought for a moment, trying to recall all the dirty things you’d heard in all those videos. “Wanna fuck your cock. Want you to fuck me. Right here, just let you, uh, make me scream.”
You found yourself stuttering through it, not sure if you sounded so awkward because you’d never talked dirty in your life, or because you were just that turned on.
Jinyoung’s brows furrowed as he stared down at you, his expression getting less aroused and more confused as you continued to tell him all the things you wanted him to do to you.
“Hold on,” Jinyoung said, hand halting your movements once more. “I’m sorry, but what’s with the dirty talk? You sound like you stepped out of a sex hotline commercial.”
“Um,” you replied and felt your cheeks flush as you looked away, pursing your lips together. “I thought you’d like that. Guys like it when a girl takes charge, right?”
“Sure,” he answered. “But we aren’t in a porno. And something tells me you’ve seen a few too many of those.”
He had caught you red handed. Oh, maybe that was a poor choice of words when you currently had both hands gripped around his cock, steadily jerking him off.
“I-” You swallowed, lifting your eyes up to lock back onto Jinyoung’s. “Maybe I watched a few… to prepare for this.”
Then Jinyoung smiled. You stared up at him, confused, before he started to laugh. Not the best reaction you wanted while you were on your knees in front of a man, but this day was ending up a lot more uncomfortable than you had imagined.
“I see what happened here. Stand up,” he told you, and you obeyed, dropping your hands off of him down to rest at your sides. He pulled you down onto his lap as you rested your thighs on either side of his hips, his hands immediately sliding up the back of your shirt.
“I’m not going anywhere. There’s no reason we can’t take it slow, enjoy it. And trust me,” he said, his fingers gripping your sides as his thumbs grazed your rib cage. “I want to enjoy this.”
Jinyoung lifted your shirt above your head and tossed it to the side, revealing the baby blue sports bra that offered no support whatsoever, and you’d been grateful to finally have an excuse to wear it.
“Wait, watch this,” you told him, leaning back with an excited smile. You reached with one hand to the center of your chest, taking hold of the zipper that went straight down the middle of the bra. You pulled it down, freeing your breasts from the bra. “Surprise.”
Once again, Jinyoung laughed at you, but this time he had this fond look in his eyes that gave you a different type of goosebumps. He had a cute laugh, and an even cuter smile--you liked the little whiskers that formed next to his eyes.
You didn’t have much time to think about that before Jinyoung was leaning forward, trailing kisses across your chest, lips making a pathway to one breast. You moaned as soon as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, arching your back towards him.
Your hands slid into his hair, needing something to hold onto while he flicked his tongue back and forth. He pinched and squeezed the neglected nipple between his index finger and his thumb, earning a squeak out of you at his ministrations.
Out of all the guys you’d been with, you had never had one pay this much attention to you right off the bat. They’d all been immature college boys, ones that didn’t bother taking your bra off before fucking you. You’d only ever reached an orgasm during sex once or twice, and you’d only been half as turned on as you were now.
You moaned his name, grinding your hips down against his lap. You felt his hardened length pressing against your thigh, and all you wanted was to feel him inside of you. You were soaking through your underwear with arousal, core clenching around nothing in desperation.
He pulled away from your chest, kissing a line up to your collarbone and along your neck, nipping your jawline before he was kissing you again. You couldn’t get enough of him, wanting to feel and touch every inch of his body.
The fantasy idea you’d had in your mind was nothing compared to this. Jinyoung was an incredible kisser, his lips perfectly plump and surprisingly skilled. He was intense, licking into your mouth and nipping at your tongue, but you loved it. You wouldn’t have minded if he swallowed you whole, at this point.
For a few minutes, you just kissed, your hands roaming each other’s bodies. Jinyoung showed his appreciation for every curve of your body, no matter how different they were from the women you’d been imitating all afternoon. He seemed to like you just as you were.
You pulled away, briefly, to yank his shirt over his head and tossed it behind you. Your eyes widened as they traveled over his skin, mouth watering with desire. He was absolutely perfect.
“Stand up,” Jinyoung told you, hands gripping your hips. He slid his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, waiting until you stood up to slide them down your legs along with your underwear.
“Condom?” you asked, trying to ignore just how bare you felt under his gaze.
Jinyoung’s eyes snapped from your body up to your face, an expression full of regret. “Shit. I don’t have one. Do you-”
You’d already scurried off, hurrying over to the closet where you kept your jackets, purses, and extra shoes. After some shuffling around and shoving your hands into the pockets of all the jackets, you finally found the small foil square you’d been praying for.
“Yes!” you squealed with happiness, practically running back over to where Jinyoung was waiting for you. You held up the condom as you climbed back on top of him. “I was a girl scout, you know. Always be prepared.”
Jinyoung shook his head with a chuckle as he took the condom from you, ripping it open. You watched as he slid the condom over his length, licking your lips. It was happening, really happening.
“You wet enough for me?” he asked, licking his thumb before he slid it down between your legs, circling your clit. You gasped, hips bucking towards him for more.
“Please,” you whimpered, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance. “I need you.”
With an easy movement, Jinyoung took his hand from your clit and gripped your hips, lifting you up to hover over his length. You reached down, lining the tip up with your entrance. You let out one long sigh as you lowered yourself down, feeling him fill you up completely.
“Fuck,” Jinyoung ground out and tipped his head back against the chair. “Good girl.”
You kept your eyes on him as you began moving your hips, tiny gasps and moans filling the room each time you came down on him again. You quickened your pace bit by bit, reaching for one of Jinyoung’s hands and guiding it to your throat.
You were no longer trying to replicate any videos you’d seen or follow any advice from your idiotic best friend, you simply wanted Jinyoung and were completely acting upon your own desires.
Jinyoung opened his eyes, previously closed in bliss, and stared up at you. He licked his lips and clenched his teeth, adjusting his hand to wrap around your neck. He kept a gentle grip as you bounced on top of him, the volume of your moans reaching higher and higher.
“Oh, oh,” you cried out, breathless, as Jinyoung squeezed your throat. “Don’t stop.”
Your pace began to slow out of pure fatigue, but Jinyoung didn’t miss a beat. He planted his feet on the floor and thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hitting even deeper inside of you than he had before.
Now, you were practically screaming as Jinyoung fucked you, your entire body bouncing and jolting up and down from the sheer power behind his thrusts. All you could do was hold onto his forearm as he pounded into you.
It didn’t take much longer for the heat to build inside of you, the intense pleasure bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You felt hot all over, as if flames were licking at your whole body the closer you got to your peak.
“That’s it,” he told you, his other hand sliding to your ass to grip the flesh as he drove into you as if determined to completely unravel you. “Come for me. Let go.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, your entire body tensing. You were completely helpless to him, loving the way his skin slapped yours each time he thrusted inside of you. With one final cry, your body began to jerk as waves of hot pleasure washed over you in an unending hurricane.
Vaguely, you registered the sound of Jinyoung groaning through his teeth, his fingers tightening around your neck for a few short seconds before he emptied inside the condom. He thrusted inside of you a few more times, panting from underneath of you.
You finally opened your eyes after you’d come down from your orgasm, finding Jinyoung looking equally exhausted after his own climax. You sighed as he dropped his hand from your neck and you took a gulp of air.
“Holy honeysuckle,” you said, body falling forward to rest against him.
A few quiet moments later, Jinyoung was stroking his hands up and down your back, a surprisingly tender action for someone that had just fucked all your brain cells out. He was so warm, and it felt so natural to have his arms wrapped around you like this.
You lifted your head from his chest and stared down at him, searching for the words to say to break the silence.
“Well,” you started, lifting one side of your mouth into a smile. “Your hose is empty.”
Jinyoung grimaced and groaned, playfully nudging you away from him. “Aaaand now you’ve ruined it.”
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