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#previously I only tagged spotify wrapped and my talk tag now you’re getting me saying stupid shit
whimsyprinx · 2 years
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,,, this certainly was a choice is all I’m saying
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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years
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“You Get Me” Pt. 3 (famous!y/n x harry)
Aka “Kissy” 🥺
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honestly its really just domestic harry bahaha and I added that they have a slight age gap ?but seriously I hope y’all enjoy the third and final installment of my first ever writings -  a little miniseries if you will. I loved writing this part sm, probably my favorite part yet. I linked a spotify playlist that was some inspo (I literally listened to your summer dream on repeat for one part that I wrote, that song is so beautiful) anyways - not really proofread and I tried to break it up more so it was less big chunks to read formatting wise
here’s part 3! read: part 1 | part 2
word count: 4.0k  | warnings: makeout sesh, shirtless harry!, nothing graphic tho (I think!)
tag list : @marauderswhisperer, @morgannope, @daddystevee, @kthemarsian, @bi-andready-tocry
playlist for the inspo✨
-
One Week Later
“Hey, Har...change of plans!” you exclaimed as you peaked through a door in Harry’s house.
You’d hung out together at your apartment once since your phone retrieval visit and the two of you had been texting constantly. You loved Harry’s company and Harry couldn’t get enough of you. Harry had called you late last night, ‘Want t’take you out tomorrow, love.’ his voice was groggy as if he was about to fall asleep. You’d instantly agreed and drove over to his house the next day. He was leaving back to London on Saturday, so it was your last day to see him for awhile.
Inside the door you had just opened, a beautiful vintage convertible sat. You had found the garage. “You are so driving this,” you turned to see the man who held your entire heart in his hands walking up beside you. Harry reluctantly agreed and leaned down to kiss your cheek.
“Ready?” he questioned, holding up the soft blanket he had retrieved for your coastal picnic. You nodded, proudly displaying the little picnic basket you had packed full with food. Simultaneously the two of you reach for each other’s free hands, clasping them together and walking out to the car.
“I’m on aux, you can focus on the road,” you told Harry when both of you went for the cassette device that functioned to allow you to play music from your phone despite the age of the car. Harry loved how assertive you were even if it meant he didn’t always get his way. That was one of the reasons he liked you so much, your strength, your ability to hold your own in any situation, even with him, opposite of how a lot of people treated him in the industry in bids to get in his good graces. You were his match, so similar, yet so unique.  
The pair of you started out on the road. Harry wore a white t-shirt with a blue bee slogan,  purple trousers, and some clean white vans. His rings and pearl necklace wrapped up the look. His tattooed arms starkly contrasting the crisp white of his shirt. His eyes on the road were covered by large sunglasses, but his hair flew out behind him as the wind rushed over the car. You had chosen high waisted mom jean style denim shorts and a lavender femme top with a mesh white floral overlay, it had ties on the shoulders and it complimented your skin color perfect, tanned in from your life in the golden state. You too had your rings on and a silver necklace with your first initial hidden in the pendant. Even your clothes complemented each other.  
The first song to play through the speakers was Joni Mitchell’s “California.” You looked over to see Harry smile and you two began to sing along. You didn’t talk much on the ride, staying silent other than singing along when you pleased, but you always made sure not to overpower the actual song, you didn’t like to do that if the music was there for ambiance. Harry would speak up a little when passing various things, just simply pointing them out. Then, after the first notes of “California Dreamin’” came on Harry couldn’t help buy say, “Y/N, seriously?  S’not like I don’t love these songs, but please tell me you didn’t just search up ‘California’ and are playing tha’?” All you did was shush him and tell him this was one of your favorite songs before singing along.
Then, as the Mamas and the Papas voices began to fade out, Harry started again, “This next song’s title better not be fuckin’ California or somethin’ with-” but he stopped as the light quick notes of “Golden” came through the speakers, followed by his own voice. You grinned and gave his shoulder a little push. You had just gotten on the PCH and you remembered his mention of it being the quintessential coastal drive song a couple years ago so you had queued just in time.
A grin spreads onto his features that had been in slight exasperation at your antics previously and shakes his head at you, does a little finger shake vaguely in your direction, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”
You both burst out in song, practically yelling the first chorus, Harry taking little harmony parts that most wouldn’t even notice, but he notices them, he made them. You dance in your seat to the song, taking control of the background ‘da da da’s. Harry is in awe of how well your voice sounds with the track, when you sing along to the second verse, much more seriously than the first one you had screamed together. He glanced over at your moving figure that began to sway at the slowing of the song. You weren’t wearing sun glasses and you had your eyes closed, basking in the shining sun. You looked at peace, yet completely fulfilled and overjoyed. In that moment, Harry knew he wanted to keep making you feel the way you did right now every time you were together. The song ended and your playlist continued, random songs regarding California and the feeling you get with someone you care about - makes you feel sunkissed.
-
“You’re literally so corny,” Harry laughs to you when ‘California Girls’ by the Beach Boys came on. You throw side eyes at him, “What can I say, Brian Wilson knew, California girls are where it’s at,” you roll your lips into your mouth and then bite your bottom lip.
-
The drive continued with you giving a rousing rendition of ‘California Gurls’ with Harry as Katy Perry and you as Snoop Dogg as you had insisted. Harry even busted out some minimal dance moves while driving the car, honking the horn at the appropriate moment. You made Harry feel like he was 19 again.
Then, straight into ‘Canyon Moon,’ Harry really was in disbelief of the woman next to him. You got so into the “I’m goin’ home” part of the song. Harry said, “Really like tha’ one, I gather,” after it finished. It was your turn to look at him in disbelief, “It’s my favorite, Har, I remember listening to Fine Line the first time and loving it immediately. Still loved it even after everyone else barely talked about it. Deserved so much more, s’amazing.” You finished with a half smile slipping onto your face. Harry gave a quiet ‘thanks’ and returned the smile.
-
Harry was finally satisfied with where you had landed along the coast. There had been no set destination, just a plan to drive to a lookout for the picnic. Finding a small parking area, you two gathered your items and set out for the perfect spot. The California coast really is beautiful. You’d lived there your whole life, just further up north, moving down to Los Angeles when you started your music career. You ran ahead of Harry to seek out a little bluff you’d seen in the distance. “Oi!” Harry called, but didn’t run to catch up, he had taken the picnic basket and it had drinks that wouldn’t be great if they were all shaken up.
You were right, it was the perfect spot, a little ways up from the set path there was a flat surface on the edge of a cliff, it was safe, with wildflowers and tall grass around a more bare area. You layed out the large blanket, then stood and watched as Harry made his way to you. His hair was every which way due to the wind whipping through it during the car ride, you subconsciously ran your hands through your hair for that reason. He looks gorgeous, you thought.
When he arrived at your little patch, he sat down the basket and you threw your arms around his neck. You pulled yourself into him and basked in his glow, his warmth and scent. He held you and ran a hand through your hair. The pair of you could have silly fun, but you could also be extremely intimate. In these quiet moments you wished you could stop time and live here forever. To live in his arms would be a wonderful thing. “So happy right now, darling,” Harry whispered, the soft swish of grass and the distant crash of waves the only sounds he had to speak above. You said nothing, but pushed yourself even further into his body, a response in and of itself. In this moment, there was no one else, just you, Harry, and the beautiful nature you stood in. This moment was everything. And you didn’t want to set it free.
Eventually, the two of you parted and relaxed into the blanket. For once, neither of you played music, you talked and ate and listened to the ambient sounds of nature. The melodic waves carried the conversation, when neither of you felt the need to say words. After eating, you let Harry pop the bottle of champagne he had brought along, unbeknownst to you, nevertheless when you saw it you wanted to be the one to uncork it. Still, your protests fell on deaf ears. “Y’seem to be getting very used to getting everythin’ you want, huh? Already a spoiled princess after a couple months of fame,” Harry teased as he worked to open the bottle. You huffed at his teasing and your failed attempt to get the bottle from him, which had caused him to move off the blanket and have his shirt be stretched from you grabbing at the bottle and only getting fabric.
“Whatever, don’t act like you’re not a total diva sometimes, Styles.” You couldn’t deny that him calling you a ‘spoiled princess’ made you feel things, unholy things. Of course you found Harry unbelievably attractive, but this was your fourth time being with Harry and the two of you hadn’t done anything besides heavy makeout sessions. You loved the way he said your name, but you also loved his nicknames for you, but this was a new one that seemed to hold some meaning within it.
Harry liked to see you all worked up, but knew he could get the exact same way, upset when things don’t turn out the way you want them. Frustrating. Finally, he popped the cork and you both cheered for the golden bubbly liquid. You had spent almost about an hour on the road and an hour or two already on the cliff, so the sun was starting to make its farewells to this side of the earth. The sky was beginning to light up with pinks, oranges, and lavenders. You both sat back down on the blanket, this time with you sat up inside of Harry’s spread legs, reclining back onto his chest.
You continued to talk, about the view before you for a little, but then each other. Whenever you were together, the two of you gravitated to the topic of enjoying the other so much. Today was apparently Harry’s turn to share. “When we were in tha car, earlier,” he started as you twiddled your fingers on his thigh, drawing shapes. You looked up into his eyes to encourage him to continue. “Haven’t had tha’ much fun in awhile. You…” he hesitated again and averted his eyes from your stare. You whispered a little ‘yeah’. You really cared about Harry feeling comfortable with you and making him happy, so you knew encouragement was helpful when he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Y’make me feel young...tha’ sounds so dumb, but y’really do,” he finally got out as put his hand over your moving one on his thigh. The two of you didn’t talk about the fact that Harry was a bit older than you. He was famous when you were a puberty-stricken teenager. The age gap wasn’t really an issue, you were both adults, but his statement reminded you that he would be 30 soon and you were still in your early 20s.
You twisted around to sit on your knees and face Harry. You placed both of your hands on his face, cradling his jaw and cheeks on each side of his face. This forced him to look you right in the eyes. You appreciated the beauty of his piercing green eyes for a moment and then went to kiss his crows feet on the sides of his eyes, his forehead lines, his hairline, his five o’clock shadow, and his smile lines, that had cropped up as he giggled at you. You were making exaggerated kiss noises as you loved on his face. “First of all, you are young,” you finally said in audible words. You waited a beat, then you kissed his soft lips that were smiling up at you. He was still smiling when you kissed him so your lips hit a bit of a tooth and you both giggled. But, you stood strong, not pulling away to laugh. Harry kissed you back. He shifted and brought his hands up from the ground where they had been holding him up to cradle your body instead. The kiss stayed chaste, despite Harry’s protests when you pulled back.
“And second, you make me feel alive.” “Alive…” Harry echoed you slowly, “Tha’s a better way to put it. I am young,” He smirked and then winked at you. You moved your hands to sit on his upper chest and could feel his heart beating soft, but strong beneath his skin. You grabbed his arm and moved it from around you. Harry quirked a brow at you. Then you placed his hand above your left breast and below your collarbone. Now he could feel your heartbeat, too. Yours, you thought, was beating a bit faster than his, but you didn’t care. Touching like this, made you feel close to him. Like you could see inside each other.  
-
You finished off the bottle of champagne because Harry had to stop drinking to be able to drive the two of you home safely. You felt very warm from it, despite the sun setting a while ago and your bare arms and legs. Luckily, besides the slight buzz you had, it was summer in California, and the nights stayed relatively warm. You skipped to the car and bent over the convertible to put the picnic basket in the backseat. Harry was right behind you and gave your bum a light pat, you pulled yourself up and flipped around, giggling. You tugged Harry in by his shirt and demanded, “Kissy.” Harry snorted and obliged, but with an open mouthed kiss where his tongue basically slobbered over your lips, mouth, and a bit of your nose. You whined, “You’re fucking disgusting, Har.” “Ya’ love it,” he responded with a faux posh voice before giving you a quick peck to your lips and rounded the car, telling you to get in and buckle up.
The whole ride home, Harry had his hand on your thigh. With it there, you occupied yourself with twisting his rings and and dancing your hand around his fingertips. The champagne had made you quiet, but smiley. The music you played was softer on the ride back home, you knew Harry needed to focus with the dark road and you didn’t want the music to distract him.
One song that was of note was “Lavendar (Take 4)” by the Beach Boys. The recording is somewhat unpleasant, but the song is beautiful. It had reminded you of the clothes you and Harry had worn on your date, the wildflowers that had just surrounded you, and the color of the sky when the sun had set on the scene of you and Harry tenderly kissing each other. The Beach Boys are known for their California, Surf pop sounds, but this sound is soft and filled with lushious harmonies, an ode to lavender, maybe a girl named lavender, but nonetheless it was for lavender. Harry harmonized along with their voices, returning to his original state. It ended and went straight into Simon & Garfunkel’s “America.” Paul Simon’s voice passed through the speakers and whispered to us sweetly. Harry again hummed in appreciation for the song choice.
-
When you arrived at the house, you helped Harry clean up the dishes and trash in the picnic basket. Then you sat on the couch, it was around ten o’clock and Harry had offered to make a pot of tea. You looked over the back of the couch as he moved around his kitchen. He padded around, putting the kettle on, opening cupboards for mugs and tea choices. When the water was ready, he got the tea ready, choosing a loose-leaf blend he’d found at a fancy restaurant in Amsterdam. “No cream tonight,” you called, still watching him work his way around his home.
Admiration shown in your eyes as he nodded and finished up the tea, bringing it over to you at the couch. He chose your mug tonight. Different from the previous two, his and yours were a matching set with dark blue interiors with tiny cartoon sailboats. You loved his collection of fun mugs, it fit him so well. After handing it to you, he snuggled in beside you and you took a sip, then rested your head on top of his strong shoulder. You turned your head to give a light kiss to his shoulder, and then moved back to staring ahead of you.  
“Wanna stay?” Harry asked, his arm around your body, holding you close to him. “Can just drive ‘ome in the mornin’,” he continued. “That’d be really nice,” you sighed. This was so comfortable, how was in possible to be like this with someone you’d known for a little over a week? It didn’t matter to either of you how quick it had happened. But it happened, and it felt right, so you went with it. This, what you and Harry had, made you happy so there couldn’t really be anything wrong with that.
-
You two chatted a bit more - about your week of tour preparations, Harry’s flight time tomorrow, various random thoughts, - and you drank your tea. At about midnight, Harry suggested that you and he get ready for bed and then watch something on his laptop. You agreed and ventured into an unknown part of his home. You’d started to snoop earlier today when you had found the garage, but had only gotten that far because you got distracted by Harry’s car.
His house was beautiful and perfectly him. It was big, but his decor and things made it specifically Harry, even if he didn’t live here full time anymore. You reached the master bedroom, located in the back of his house, with french doors, identical to those in the sitting room, opening out to the grass in his backyard. His bed. His bed. It was a California King with tasteful bedding and a beautiful wooden headboard and frame.
You ran and jumped onto it, the bed sinking beneath you and the bedding fluffing around you. You snuggled and rolled around in the sheets, “This is so much nicer than my bed in the apartment, it’s only a full…” you trailed off. Harry leaned against the doorway of the room, smiling to himself as he watched you make yourself at home among this life. “You’ll be gettin’ a new place, soon, I reckon?” Harry asked and went to grab you both some clothes to sleep in from his closet. “Yeah, maybe!” you called out to him in the little room connected to the master that housed his clothes.
When Harry returned, he was only in boxers, but was holding two large t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and another pair of boxers. “D’ya mind if I sleep like this? I can put more clothes on if that makes you more comfortable?”
You couldn’t keep your jaw from dropping. You’d seen Harry shirtless before, everyone had, but to see him right in front of you, that was something else.
He noticed you staring at his body and smirked, but then threw a shirt and the pair of boxers your way, “Stop bein’ such a perv, love,” he teased. “Rude,” you muttered, “Was simply admiring...but if you don’t want me to look, you can sleep fully clothed,” you scratched your nose and then shrugged your shoulders.
As you worked to slide off the big bed, Harry crossed the room and trapped you on the edge, leaning over you with both his hands landing on either side of you on the bed. You scrunch your eyes and nose up as he tries to make eye contact with you. He goes to kiss you, but you turn your head and your cheek receives a kiss. He stays against your cheek, drags out your name and groans, “s’teasin’ you.” “I know, baby,” you respond and kiss his cheek now. You duck under his arm and run into his en suite bathroom, shutting the door to change. When you re-emerge, Harry’s in the bed, with the sheets pulled back, and his computer in his lap.
Harry calls out to you without looking up from his screen, “S’was thinkin’, y’know, since you’re always saying your apartment is tiny, y’could house sit ‘ere while I’m away?” You tilt you head as you approach the bed as you ponder the idea. “I mean, I guess ‘why not’? It would be a longer commute into the studio, but this place is gorgeous, and I’m gonna start traveling a lot anyway so I won’t need my apartment for much longer…” You continue to think on it as you climb back onto Harry’s bed and snuggle yourself into his body. Harry looks slightly down at you by his side, he’s put on his glasses, “Think you should, I’d also like knowin’ someone was ‘ere, keepin’ things running while I’m away.”
You nodded and move slightly to rest your head on Harry’s naked chest. His sunkissed tattooed body is mesmerizing, you reach your hand up and start tracing the various designs and running your hand along his collarbones and veins as well. Then you flattened a palm and smoothed it over his right pectoral. Harry hummed and pushed himself further down the bed. “Can we not watch anything actually, m’kinda tired,” you whisper up to Harry, your voice the only sound in the house besides the light clicking of a clock in a different room. Harry responds by closing the laptop and readjusting your position in the bed. You and Harry are a tangle of legs and bodies pressed against one another. Everything is calm and Harry says one word, “Kissy.” And you smile and let yourself pull slightly away from Harry to lean up and kiss him one more time before the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. It’s soft and chaste, completely closed mouths, but you linger in the kiss, feeling his warm nose brushing besides yours. A hand moves up to his hair and gives it one good run through and then you pull away, “Kissy,” you finalize. The two of you giggle and snuggle even further together.
Your bodies fit so well together and again you were struck with the feeling that you never wanted this to end, even if tomorrow he was flying away, to somewhere halfway across the world. The distance didn’t matter. You knew the two of you had what it took to be there for each other, even if you couldn’t touch or feel the other. Even if laughter over the phone had to suffice for awhile. What the two of you had was greater than all of those obstacles of space and proximity. It was powerful because you were both powerful. Powerful in the way you loved, in the way you worked, in the way you simply were. You fell asleep in Harry’s arms that night filled with contentment. Harry fell asleep with you in his arms that night filled with joy that he’d found someone to share everything with. Someone who was willing to give him all of themselves. Someone who was finally able to get all of him.
-
love y’all sm 🤍🤍 hope you enjoyed and have a nice day
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vampirefreakism · 5 years
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The Scientist (Chapter 33)
Summary: In the events following Asgard’s destruction, Loki finds himself on Earth seeking refuge to await the inevitable. Much to his surprise, it comes from a source he would never have expected.
Warnings: none
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: God let’s hope this shows up in the tags and stays there. The AO3 and Spotify playlist are linked in the Masterlist. I haven't stopped or deleted anything. I also posted this on Wattpad so check me out on there if you like!
Masterlist
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As one song transitioned to the next, Loki glanced away from his book to the back of the CD case. Luna wasn’t around to enjoy the music with him – the reason he spent most of the morning sending high praises to the Allfathers. She would be able to tell how quickly he lost interest in the wonders of evolution over a new album. New for him, normal for her.
Marking his place, Loki put his book down and strode over to the newly set-up record player. He traced a finger around the edges as he tapped his foot to the beat, imagining how a track might sound played through it. It escaped him as to why Luna would need another thing to play music. ‘You have one already,’ he had reasoned, but it was a lavish gift from Stark. It would have been rude to not accept it.
Loki had the privilege of carrying the boxes into her apartment and assembling everything with her. A different science than he was used to, but it was no less entertaining. Ignorantly, he had pondered out loud which album they could play. ‘We don’t have the proper format,’ Luna told him and expanded on what a vinyl record was. Loki remembered them from a trip or two to Earth during the early 20th century. A surprise people still used them, but he figured it was purely for the nostalgia.
He pressed the on button on the front, awakening the turntable. It spun clockwise in a lazy fashion. Loki was tempted to lift the cover and touch it. Feel the material move against his skin, but Luna was firm. ‘Don’t touch it unless you’re putting a record on. It has to be kept clean.’ Would she be able to tell if he defied her? Perhaps. She was more perceptive than he previously took her for.
Feeling peckish, he switched the turntable off and grabbed his phone on the way to the kitchen. Peter teased him with the promise of sending pictures of the inside of his school and his other friends. It was a naughty and dangerous idea, and Loki was all for it. Finding nothing of interest on the counter or in the fridge, he settled for an ice cream pint. No need to worry about his hand turning blue, so long as he was alone.
Loki’s phone pinged to life as he was finishing the first half of the container. It was a message from Peter. He shook his hand out, getting some warmth back into it, and opened it.
‘Hey! Im in math. Is boring’
Attached is a hastily-taken picture of a whiteboard covered in diagrams and equations. Portions of it were blocked by the many students in front of Peter’s phone camera. Loki snickered and typed out his response.
‘doesnt look so’
Two minutes pass by – enough time for Loki to fish out a few more scoops of ice cream – and Peter messages him again.
‘its one of my best subjects so it doesn’t bother me too much. Ned and MJ are in another block from me so I miss them’
Loki's brow creased. He held his spoon in his mouth, so his hands were free.
‘MJ?’
‘oh yeah right you don’t know her. Shes my other really good friend’
‘what’s she like’
The long delay for Peter’s return message put Loki a bit on edge. Intent on calming his nerves, he put the rest of his ice cream away and ventured to Luna’s room. He could hear his music still, only muffled a little.
Beneath her bed sat a row of shoeboxes, containing everything but a pair of shoes. The first Loki opened housed all of Luna’s keychains and charms. A few piqued his interest; a simple black skull, a Darth Vader figure, a mini Mjolnir, and a crescent moon with two stars attached. He smirked, turning over the little moon in his hand. He expected no less from her.
Through the concluding music, Loki’s phone chimed anew with a message for him. Careful not to step on the charms littering the floor, he shuffled back to the kitchen and opened up his device. Again, it was from Peter.
‘hey! Srry for the wait. Teacher almost caught me txting lmao’
Loki grins.
‘first rule of mischief: never get caught’
‘ooh neds here now. He says hi’
Attached is another picture, taken at a low angle, of Peter and Ned. Both boys smile into the camera as Ned waves down to it, greeting Loki through the phone.
‘hello ned. Grand to see you again’
‘we r at lunch now. MJ is here too’
This photo was not of either of the two boys, but of their friend sitting across from them at a table. The friend – Loki assumed – was MJ. She held a book in one hand as she shot someone an irritated look.
‘is this MJ?’
‘yeah. We interrupted her reading but its ok XP’
‘does she know about me being here?’
A pause in the messaging held the air still. It was as though Peter deliberated in secret. Loki was impatient for the outcome.
‘no, but she might suspect. She’s really observant. Lolol shes already commented on my txtin’
‘may not be wise to communicate in front of people’
‘maybe not. txt u later?’
‘sure’
‘kk! Talk l8r!’
A loud silence took the apartment once more. Loki was desperate to banish it, so he started the album over again. He didn't mind. It wasn't the first time he'd exhausted the work of a musician in a day.
Feeling antsy, he went back to Luna’s room. He always liked looking at her little treasures, no matter if they were new to his eyes or if he’d seen them ten times before. Tucking her box of keychains back where it belonged, he moved on to another corner of the room: her closet.
Clothes were always crucial to Loki. Being a royal meant looking his best, both in the ballroom and on the battlefield. He was consistently stereotyped as the brother with the more developed fashion sense, but Thor knew his way around an outfit as well as he. Presentation was critical in any scenario.
Loki pried the door open as careful as he could, should anything come tumbling out. Luckily, everything inside was placed smartly and in order. The upper shelf supported a few boxes and spare sheets, the clothes hung on the rack in a beautifully organized fashion, and the remained floor space kept extra bags and larger boxes. Many places to start, not enough time to go through them all.
He started with the clothing. It was a surprise to see Luna hanging her T-shirts and long-sleeved shirts up as Loki preferred to fold his, but he liked it. It made them look neat and presentable. Beside them, her pants were placed in the same way. She had a few different kinds, so Loki took a look at each.
He’d seen her in leggings and joggers in the house and the gym. Which one she wore all depended on her mood and how the day went. One pair of dress pants sat suspended amongst them. Her skinny jeans – a black pair and a dark red pair – she wore any time they went out. Today, she put the dark red ones on for work, leaving Loki with the black pair. He tried to pick a favorite, but Luna wore both exceptionally well.
Sweaters and jackets squeezed in next to them. Luna possessed a broader assortment than previously believed. The first of the group Loki spied was the sweater she wore the day they went to the aquarium. It was light grey with a graphic on the front of a dark forest. Loki passed a hand over it, tracing the trees from the exaggerated sharp tops down to the bases on the drawn ground. Simple and practical yet stylish and unique. He snuck a hand into the sleeve, feeling the inside. It was soft and plush, like wearing a blanket. A whisper of jealousy passed through his head as he imagined feeling something so comforting against his skin; a far cry from the leather and rougher fabrics of his homeworld.
He peeked at the others he hadn’t seen: a black pullover with a small cartoon alien spaceship on the left side of the chest, a dark grey hoodie with a geometric skull design, a plain black suit jacket, and a notably large black hoodie with a four-letter abbreviation embroidered broad across the chest. Loki tilted his head and unhooked it from the bar. In front of the mirror, he held it up to his frame. In theory, it could fit him, but the forefront of his mind was occupied by one question: why was it so different from the others? Looking crossly at his reflection, Loki stepped back from the mirror and put the sweater back. Better for him to move on to something else lest he leaves a trace of his meddling.
Shoved into the far side of the closet were the clothes he considered to be more formal and fancy. Things Loki never bothered to think he would see, much less worn by his friend. His eyes were first met by a dress. Luna never seemed the type to wear such a garment. Loki found it difficult to imagine it on her, but he kept inspecting it. It was black with a fit-and-flare shape and long sleeves. The fabric was soft and stretchy, and the neckline left less to the imagination than Loki was used to. He tucked it back and pushed it towards the opposite side. Enough with it for now.
The outfit behind it lay draped over the hanger in three pieces. To the untrained eye, they were indistinguishable as to what they might be. Possessing such a sight, Loki took a bold step, unhooking the hanger and laying it on Luna’s bed. One piece had a red-to-black gradient, the other was plain black, and the last was small and wine red. He took the black garment out first and held it at eye-level. Seeing it clearly, he discovered it to be a long skirt with a drawstring waistband. The fabric was a bit flimsy, as though it was meant to go underneath something. He set it down – keeping its proposed purpose in mind – and picked up the gradient piece.
The color shifted along the entire length of the cloth, and it was long. It looked to be a scarf or a wrap skirt. Perhaps it could be both at the same time. The fabric was soft, and Loki couldn’t stop touching it. It was made of silk and felt like cool water in his hands, flowing and moving as though it was alive. He hastily pulled up his sleeves and let it fall across his bare arms. To say it was heaven to touch would be an understatement. He could wear an entire robe of the material and never want to take it off.
He retrieved the final raiment and held it as he did the skirt, feeling the soft material. It was made of stretchy velvet and resembled the sports bras Luna kept in her drawer set. The neckline of the tiny top scooped a bit lower than the one on the black dress, and the short sleeves were made of embroidered red lace. Loki turned it from back to front and back again. It held no zipper, buttons, or strings to tie. Only a simple tug was needed to put it on.
Loki lay it down and stepped back. With all the pieces on display, he surveyed them properly and built up the outfit in his mind in various ways, but nothing seemed correct. Again, he was at a loss. But, to his luck, Luna’s voice came floating into his mind as he recalled a past conversation.
“I do have one, and I like it a lot, but it’s nowhere near as nice as that one.”
One. One what? Loki had an idea and a heavy feeling.
Racing out of Luna’s room, he charged through the open space to the picture of Luna’s mother. The one of her wearing an expensive saree. His eyes widened, realizing he'd snooped in the wrong place and disturbed the wrong item. Loki glanced at the kitchen clock. He had enough time to put everything back before his friend came home. He walked back to Luna’s room, swallowing nervously.
Gently, he ran his fingertips along the saree wrap cloth, feeling the energy it held. This was Luna’s one. Her one outfit representing her culture and heritage – what made up the core of her being – and he’d gone and disturbed it without a care in the world. For shame. Loki groaned and closed his eyes. He had an apology ready, but no one to apologize to.
He closed his eyes and, with his soul, reached out to Luna’s ancestors. Her family members from the mother country. The ones who survived so she could exist. Loki acknowledged the boundary he crossed and asked for their forgiveness. He folded and hung the clothes back where he got it from, hoping they would listen and grant his request. Feeling light in his chest, he smiled. They knew he was sincere.
Loki pushed the clothes into the order he found them in and closed the closet door. Enough snooping for today. He shut the bedroom door on his way out and ambled to the kitchen for an apple. The skin was crisp and the inside as savory as he liked. The apartment was quiet again. For now, Loki deserved it. A bit of hushed contemplation would do him some good. It was a curve, but he was learning.
Throwing the apple core away, he rinsed his hands and got a fresh glass of water. He took the book he had been reading and sat in the armchair by the window. Luna warranted a bit of good behavior from Loki, even though she was not there to see.
--------------------
Close to 3pm, Loki’s phone dinged with a new message from Peter. He marked his spot in his book and opened the text.
‘finally done! Wow the day felt long’
Loki grinned and responded.
‘I bet’
‘so where r u now? R u at the compound?’
‘no, im in lunas home’
‘ooooooh what do you do there all day’
Loki paused, deciding what to tell him.
‘read her books, watch her movies, listen to her music’
‘noah fence, but that sounds kinda boring :P’
“‘Noah fence?’" Loki muttered under his breath. "Oh, ‘no offense.' Right.”
‘it can be, but we go to the compound on Saturdays and out anywhere else’
‘nice nice nice! U comin by this weekend??? to the compound???? ?????’
Loki snickered at Peter’s apparent excitement. He humored the boy.
‘I might’
‘pls bcuz I have some stuff I wanna show u’
‘looking forward to it’
‘:D I have decathlon practice now, so txt l8r??’
‘sure. You know where to find me’
‘lol yeah’
Loki didn't bother texting back. Peter was busy studying with his friends, or so he imagined. He got up and turned his music back on, again, not bothering to change the CD. Good music deserved to be listened to.
His enjoyment was short-lived as his phone rang with a different tune, this one constant and more musical. Luna had shown him what it meant. Someone was calling him.
Loki looked at the screen and saw Luna’s name lit up. He pressed the green button and held it to his ear.
“H-hello?” he spoke.
He heard a light muffled gasp. “You answered! Yay!” Luna praised.
Loki smirked. “Yes, I did.”
“So, uh, hi.”
“Hi.”
Loki heard a distant cough. “Um, what are you doing right now?”
“Waiting for you. Listening to music and reading.”
“What are you reading? Anything interesting?”
"Oh, yes. In fact, it’s one of your biological science books.”
“Ooh, which one?”
Loki read the cover. “‘Four Billion Years’ by William Loomis.”
“Mm, good choice.”
He opened the book to a random page as though Luna was watching him and he had to prove it. “The genetic code is so complex. It’s no wonder you study it.”
“Yeah. There isn't a dull moment with it. So, which artist are you listening to?”
“A wonderful lady by the name of,” Loki picked up the CD case, “Marina.”
“Oh! Awesome!” Luna exclaimed. “And how do you like her?”
“Very much. She’s fantastically accomplished.”
“I had a feeling you would like her stuff. Which song do you like most so far?”
“I couldn’t possibly choose. They’re all good.”
“Just one. The other songs won’t feel less liked, I promise." She giggled, and so did he.
“Let’s see.” Loki flipped the case to the back and read the track list. "Uh, ‘Fear and Loathing.’ "
“Ooh, nice choice. I love that one. They're all good. I have several favorites.”
He hummed. “So, what are you doing now?”
“Taking a bit of a break. I called to tell you that I’m going to be late. Traffic is horrible right now, so it’s not safe for me to leave yet. I’m also working out some ideas for a new experiment.”
The fire of Loki’s interest was stoked. “Oh?”
“Mhm. It’ll be a DNA manipulation using CRISPR like last time, but I would have to redo an RNA template for the new organism.”
“Which one might you be using?”
“Zebrafish. I want to test healing time.”
“Why use a new one when you already have the first one?”
“Because zebrafish are larger than the worms and transparent, so I can see all the inner workings, even the blood vessels in real-time. I can nick one a little and see the movement of the cells as it heals the wound. They also have an organ system similar to humans so I can visualize things more easily than with a worm.”
Her job never ceased to capture him. He felt like he could watch her work all day.
“Amazing,” Loki breathed out.
“Yeah! I've seen a bunch of videos where they do that, and it's really cool, so I'm hoping to get some good results. Even if they don’t change from the average results of a non-mutated fish, it’s not nothing.”
“Of course, but may I speak freely?”
Luna chuckled low into the phone. “You may.”
“I think you will get a difference." He didn't wish to give anything away, but he was confident she would get something. If the worms could produce ice particles on their own, the fish would do the same.
“I will keep that in mind.”
“I suppose I should let you get back to work.”
“Yeah, I have some more things to finish up before I leave. Hopefully, the traffic will be a little more merciful on me.”
“Here’s to hoping.”
“Hm, yeah. Well, bye, Loki. See you at home.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
Loki listened to the buzzing silence on the other end of the line. Pressing the red button, he set his phone down and wandered back to the record player. A present from Stark. Luna got a pair of socks from Peter. And what from Loki? Nothing. As he pulled gently at the string bracelet around his wrist, he thought of her. Luna was the best friend he wished he had earlier in his life but never got. Now, he had her, but how has he repaid her kindness?
Loki gave to his kingdom for four years as its king, proving to his people he was better than the person he used to be. He had the capacity but lacked the resources. What could only he offer? Stark and Peter had more stable connections, but what did Loki have? What did they have together?
He looked around the room and noted all points of interest. They shared film, music, food, and dancing. Yes, dancing was a good place to start. She only did it with him. With nothing Asgardian to gift, he would have to settle for something earthly. Something she didn’t currently possess but would greatly enjoy.
Loki perused the CD shelf. He knew most of the artists, but he didn’t know what Luna didn’t have or if she would like something new. His eyes flitted from album to album and stopped on one he recognized: ‘Led Zeppelin IV.’ Their first dance was in there. Reading the spine of the case, Loki laughed under his breath. Luna was influencing him again, making him sentimental. But now, as an idea formed in his head, sentiment felt good.
His phone dinged, providing a momentary distraction.
‘done with the stuff. About to go on patrol so my messages will be here and there’
It was from Peter. Perfect timing.
‘alright, but one thing before you go’
‘yah??’
Loki took a deep breath and, with shaking hands, typed out his question.
‘how much do you know about vinyl records’
----------
Taglist:  @the-doctor-9-10 @pinkieperil @sherlockfan4life
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ohwhatamessiam · 6 years
Text
Self Control - Chapter 8
Summary: You meet Dodger, help Chris find an apartment, and have some steamy sex in his car.
Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans X TA!Reader
Word Count: 4.3k (I got carried away!)
Warnings: Language as usual, lots of fluff, a cute dog, UNPROTECTED SEX (only interact with this post if you’re 18+ & please use protection), and a good helping of angst to top it off. This one might hurt.
A/N: Hi guys!!! Sorry that it’s been 2 months! It’s been a super busy 2 months, where I’ve done a shit ton of work in my last semester of undergrad, got a job transfer, and am working on my finals before I graduate. I can’t promise another update for another couple weeks (I graduate in 3, so once that happens my time will open up lol). This chapter has a lot going on, and I give you (what I believe to be) an ample amount of fluff, smut, and angst. A huge thank you to @fangirlisms-22 for beta’ing this during these busy months. Here’s the Spotify playlist for the entire fic.
I love feedback, so send me your thoughts, feelings, wishes, etc!
Tags are open for this story, so send me an ask here to be added to it or my permanent list!
Self Control | Masterlist
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Your fingers drum on the trunk of your car, nerves building in your gut as you wait for Chris. It’s the weekend before Halloween and the weather has been hovering around 60 degrees. Dogs bark behind you, keeping your mind set on what’s about to happen.
Chris and you were about to go out as a couple for the first time. Not quite on a date or anything, and the dog park you two were meeting at was 30 minutes away from campus, but it was still something.
He’d ended up spending the entire weekend before with you, telling you how much he loved you every chance he got and falling asleep on your couch every time you cuddled up with him. You two talked about his marriage and their separation more than you previously had. You even helped him find a few apartments to look at. By the end of your secret staycation, you felt like your relationship was in a different place. It was real, open and honest, and it felt like you might actually be able to go public. And for the first time since you two got together, a sense of hope rooted itself in you. You two could be happy, and there were significantly less “what ifs” attached to that happiness.
Chris’s car pulls into the parking lot, and your fingers freeze on the edge of your trunk. A white and tan head pops up from the passenger seat, and you feel a smile already pulling on your lips. You watch as Chris pushes out of the vehicle, his eyes landing on you, and a grin breaks across his face. You feel your heart beat faster. He moves to the other side of his car, and lets his pup, Dodger, out.
Glancing over your shoulder, you check to make sure no one you know has snuck into the park. You find the same couple throwing a ball around with their two labradors at the far end of the park, and the pair of moms with a group of kids playing with a three small dogs. The only new face is man jogging the trail next to the park with his border collie.
Footsteps grow closer to you, and something bumps your foot.
You turn to find Dodger standing in front of you, his tongue hanging out of his mouth happily as he tries to get your attention. Chris is a few feet behind, trying to keep up with his eager dog. You push off your car with a grin and squat down to pet Dodger. All it takes is one gentle stroke of his head, and he throws himself at you, rolling onto his back for you to scratch his belly.
You chuckle as you give in and Dodger wiggles under your fingers in excitement.
“Buddy, I thought we talked about this,” Chris says as he squats down in front of you and pets the dog’s chest. “This is my girlfriend, not yours.”
Hearing him say those words in public sends a warmth through your limbs. You give Dodger one last pat on his belly and stand up. The dog rolls back over and hops up, wanting to stay with you. Chris pushes himself up too, and you lean back on your car as you finally get to take him in.
He’s in a pair of dark jeans and a fitted blue henley that shows off his broad shoulders, and you desperately want to touch him. Apparently, he’s thinking the same thing, because he places a hand on your hip and takes a step closer to you.
“Hi,” he grins, looking down at you from under his thick lashes.
“Hi,” you whisper back and try your best to control your happiness.
He tilts his head toward you, and you slide a hand across his beard as you bring your lips to his. The kiss is gentle, welcoming, earnest. His hand slips to the small of your back as you feel the brush of his tongue against yours, and his fingers splay across your spine before pulling you closer to him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you lean into him, a smile breaking across your lips as you deepen the kiss. If you two weren’t connected, you were pretty sure you could float away from happiness.
A paw steps on your foot, and your teeth brush Chris’s lip. You pull back to find Dodger trying to worm himself between you two. Chris lets out a sigh, and you take a step back to catch your breath. You two were supposed to be keeping a low profile.
“Is someone jealous because he’s not getting enough attention?” Chris asks as Dodger steps in front of him. The dog raises his ears as he looks up at his owner, and then tugs on his leash as he heads toward the park. Chris lets out a laugh as he allows Dodger to drag him onto the grass. You stay behind for a moment, watching the two of them together, Dodger’s tail wagging excitedly as Chris grins at the moms with their small herd of children and dogs.
He starts talking to them and glances over his shoulder, looking for you. You feel the smile on your lips deepen as you begin walking toward them.
You could get used to this.
Chris’s fingers knot with your own as he leads you into the first apartment you found for him. You were pretty sure going apartment hunting with a married man before he was divorced, or before you two were even public, was some kind of violation. Nonetheless, he begged you to come along and even used the excuse that if Dodger wasn’t allowed on the tours or needed to go outside, you could look after him.
Luckily, the first building manager loved dogs and was happy to let you two bring Dodger inside. You hold onto his leash as Chris speaks with the older man, “The hardwood floors are in great shape.”
“I had them refinished after the last tenant moved out,” the man nods as he leads you to the dining area and kitchen. “We worked on the exposed brick to make it a little more modern.” Chris runs his fingers over the stone countertops and you keep Dodger away from the stainless steel appliances. “How soon are you two looking to move in?”
“Oh, uh, I won’t be moving in,” you manage.
“She has her own apartment and lease right now, so it would be further down the line for her,” Chris adds, and you turn away to hide your smile. “I’ve just been in a bad living situation at the moment and need to move.”
“Understandable. Would the beginning of next month work?” the man asks.
“Something soon would definitely be best.”
The man ends up sitting on a chair and petting Dodger as he tells you two to finish looking around. You follow Chris into the bathroom first and he checks out the shower as you take in the countertops and cabinets.
“We could both fit in here and still have some space to have fun,” he whispers as his eyes lock on yours in the mirror.
“Chris,” you warn as you hold his reflected gaze.
He gives you a quick wink, “Just a suggestion.”
The master bedroom is pretty large and the guest room would be a perfect writing space. While he’s busy taking in the apartment, you’re truly focused on Chris’s body language, his expressions. The way his eyes light up when he notices the view from the bedroom window or how his lips part when he’s taking in the built-in bookshelves, perfect to hold his personal library. You stay close to the door, watching him roam the space and taking pride in the fact that you found this apartment for him.
Chris turns on you, a small smirk tugging the corner of his mouth up. “So (Y/N), what do you think of this place?” He closes the distance between your bodies and brushes his fingers down your arms before they rest on your hips.
“I think it’s really nice.” You hold in your excitement over how perfect the place is until he confirms that he feels the same way.
“Nice? It’s fucking perfect,” he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes hypnotizing you as his breath reaches yours lips. “It’d be a great for us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, us. Dodger and I…” he nods his eyes watching your expression carefully.
“Oh uh, yeah,” you answer, your gaze dropping to the floor.
Chris lets out a low chuckle and tilts your face up to his. “And you too, idiot.” The grin on his lips causes your heart to do backflips and you push onto your toes. “You’re just as much of my future as I am,” he assures as his nose bumps yours. His arms wrap around your back as your lips brush slowly, tenderly, and you feel the way he holds you to him, clinging to this moment of bliss. This promise of a future.
After two weekends spent together, you and Chris barely know how to stay apart. The stakes were still high, sure, but there was too much happening to be happy about. Chris had left the divorce papers for his wife to sign when he dropped Dodger back off at their house, and he was planning on signing a lease on the apartment he loved this week.
You two had a private celebratory dinner the Monday after the apartment showings, at your place of course, but after an evening of grading he was worn out and turned in early. You stayed up to write, but couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted by how happy he looked in his sleep.
You were going to have a real future together.
Chris did his best not to disturb you the next morning, so it was no surprise when he snuck out without you even noticing.
But that left you longing to get him alone. You were so careful all the time, and for once you didn’t care if anyone saw.
“Chris, no one’s here,” you tease as you lean against the wall across from his office. His office hours just ended, and there’s only one light on in a grad student’s office at the end of the hallway.
“(Y/N),” he smirks. When he doesn’t reach out for you, you know he’s keeping his guard up.
“I missed you this morning,” you whine, and his eyes watch your face closely, catching on the pout of your bottom lip.
“I didn’t want to disrupt your beauty sleep.” He pulls his messenger bag higher on his shoulder before he reaches for the door knob.
“I would have forgiven you.” He locks his office door and heads toward the stairs, and you follow him closely. As he steps past the department doors you push yourself in front of him. “Supply closet?”
He hesitates as he takes you in, the way you’re biting your lip, tilting your head, and pushing your chest out. It only takes him a second to decide, and he reaches his hand out to you as he tilts his head toward the stairs. A grin settles on your lips and you let Chris guide you down the stairwell.
There’s more bounce in your step than usual, and as he leads you out of the building he drops his hand from yours. You cross your arms as you walk next to him, weaving by buildings and students walking back to their dorms from their classes. The sun’s began setting, warm tones of light painting the sky from behind stone buildings and slanted roofs.
As you get closer to the faculty parking lot Chris uses, you notice how the number of passing students dwindle. You nearly reach out for his hand again.
You two step onto the asphalt lot to discover it empty except for Chris’s car and a small SUV a few spaces away. Nerves have been building in your gut the entire time you were walking, but they calm the moment you reach his car.
Chris turns to you quickly, his hands finding your hips. He guides you backwards until you’re pressed against the side of his car. Pulling him toward you, you catch the fresh scent of his aftershave and melt into him. Slipping an arm around his neck, you use him for support and let him kiss you hungrily. His lips work quickly, meeting yours with enough force to leave yours swollen. You open up, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and his teeth carefully graze at your bottom lip.
Fingers dig into your flesh as you trail a hand down his back, settling it on his ass and then giving him a firm squeeze. He lets out a low moan, and his thumbs hook under your shirt. Lips travel to your jaw and you arch your body into his, wanting to be even closer.
“Chris,” you whisper as his teeth nibble on your neck. “Who does that SUV belong to?”
“It’s Sebastian’s,” he answers, not bothering to tear his mouth from your skin.
“Does he normally leave campus at this time?”
“No. He’s in a meeting until 7 on Tuesdays.”
You fish the keys out of Chris’s pocket, your fingers gently teasing his hardening cock through his slacks. He lets out a low moan against your neck, his teeth dragging over your skin. You manage to pry Chris’s mouth from you as you unlock his car and yank open the back door. Crawling into the vehicle, you throw your bag in the front seat and turn around. You see Chris follow your lead and he shuts the door behind him.
Although his windows aren’t fully tinted, they’re darker than yours, and the upholstery is smooth and in good condition. Chris’s fingers trail up your legs slowly, starting at your ankles and stopping at your thighs. A sharp grin takes over his features, and he remains still for moment as he watches you. Just as you begin to move toward him, his hands grip the bottom of your thighs and he quickly yanks you across the seat. A laugh rises from your throat as you wrap an arm around him and push yourself above him. His eyes watch you closely, his lips parting as he breathes shallowly, anticipating your next move.
Somehow, you get your jeans unbuttoned in the enclosed space and he helps you work them down your legs. As you push your pants past your ankles you slide a gentle hand along his thigh, teasingly getting closer to his hardened cock before pulling away again. You spread across his backseat, your stomach and hips flat against the car’s upholstery. Your legs bend up at the knee, giving you as much room as possible to work.
Biting your lip as you look up at him innocently, your fingers finally reach his dick. You palm him carefully through his jeans as you work to get them undone. Once his cock is free from his underwear, you grip his shaft firmly and brush your thumb under the head of his dick. His eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a small groan, and you apply more pressure. His head leans back against the window, his brows furrowed as he focuses on your touch.
You only let him concentrate on the sensation of your fingers for a moment before you add your tongue to the mix. The moan that leaves his lips as you lick the underside of his cock makes you even more aroused. Slowly, you take him into your mouth. You alternate between massaging him with your tongue and bobbing up and down, and his hand pushes your hair out of your face.
“Fuck,” he whispers when you look up at him, your tongue swirling around his tip. His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard that you think he’ll draw blood. The hand in your hair guides you away from his cock, and you push up on your knees. He tugs up your shirt, his hands warming your skin where they touch you. You pull your shirt off as his fingers trace the edge of your underwear. Chris slips out of his jacket after you push your fingers beneath it, feeling his body inch closer to you in response to your touch. You loosen his tie as you stare down at him, watching the way his pupils dilate as they take you in.
He licks his lips as his fingers eagerly slip between your legs to find your wetness. “Is this all because of me?” You nod. The grin he rewards you with makes you want to launch yourself at him.
Chris moves so his back is against the seat instead of the door, and he pulls you over him, guiding your thighs so you’re straddling him. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses along your neck as his fingers push your underwear aside. When his thumb meets your clit you let out a small gasp. Your hand grips onto his forearm, trying to encourage him to keep going. His lips reach your chest as his eyes watch your face, taking in your every needy breath and moan. His fingers tease your entrance before they push inside you, slowly searching for your g-spot. The moment he finds it you let out a small moan, doing your best to keep it trapped in your throat.
As his fingers curl into you again, you jerk your hips toward his thumb, begging for more friction. Chris chuckles against your skin, his hot breath teasing goosebumps out of you as the temperature outside of the vehicle drops. Your fingers fan over his collarbones, trying to find something to cling to as you feel his thumb’s movement grow rougher.
Your nails dig into the upholstery behind him, his own fingers continuing to curl into your tightening muscles. You throw your head back, arching your body as your orgasm grows closer. “Right there, right there,” you whisper as your legs shake, your insides nearly quivering too. Chris places his free arm behind you, supporting your body as his teeth nip at your cleavage.
He adds a third finger to push you over the edge and your breathing races. Your core clenches around his fingers as you ride out your wave of pleasure, keeping his fingers locked inside you, right where you’ve been wanting him all day. His thumb only lightens it’s pressure on your clit when you lean forward again, panting for air. You bring your hands to the sides of his head, angling his face toward you.
“You ready?” he whispers as your fingers trace the edges of his lips. Your legs feel like jelly as you stare at his plump mouth, and you know he’s got you.
You give him a short nod as you meet his lust-blown eyes. He grins under your fingers and leans up to connect your mouths.
The kiss is slow and smoldering. Teeth and tongues brushing until your lungs cry for more air. You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t feel Chris’s arm wrap around your waist and fingers sink into your skin. He guides your hips, lowering you onto his cock. You sigh as you feel Chris bottom out, and his deep groan of pleasure vibrates against your chest.
You move first, barely shifting your pelvis up before sinking back down. His fingers twitch in response before they dig into your flesh, leaving bruises behind. You repeat your drawn out movements, and he moans against your lips, getting caught up in your torturously lazy pace. Warm fingers unhook your bra and find their way to your breasts, squeezing gently as you clench around his dick.
“Fuck… you,” he manages to whisper as you swivel your hips, his eyes rolling back in his head.
You grin victoriously, “Isn’t that what you’re doing?” He doesn’t seem to find your joke quite as amusing as you do, but you reward him by picking up the speed of your movements. Your fingers knot in Chris’s hair, pushing his head back against the seat as you change the angle of your hips slightly. The subtle shift pulls a whimper from you as the tip of his cock finds your g-spot. Chris watches your lips fall open and your eyes squeeze shut as your composure crumbles.
His hands find your hips, moving you faster, eager to draw more moans and whimpers from your mouth. The car rocks under you two, swaying every time your bodies meet. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, and he holds you against him tightly. Your clit makes contact with his body, bringing your orgasm nearer by the second.
Chris’s lips slide across your neck, finding your pulse point and sucking. Your nails scratch his shoulders, dragging on the material of his shirt as your head falls back. “Chris,” you moan, your legs shaking as your body tenses for your second orgasm.
“Uh huh,” he groans against your throat. His cock throbs inside you as his own release grows closer. “Let it out, baby.”
You moan his name one more time as you let go. His hands rock you against him as your muscles pulse around him, bringing him to climax with you. Whimpers escape your throat as your body trembles. It feels like static dances under you skin as your clutched against his warm body. Chris keeps your hips moving, milking every last second of your orgasms as he can.
When he stops moving he simply holds you against him, his cheek resting against your chest as you both gasp for air. Your fingers rub small circles against the nape of his neck as you feel his heart beating on your skin. 
The moment is perfect and peaceful. Just you two clinging to each other, never wanting to let each other go.
Eventually, you pull away from him, your skin growing cold. He reluctantly takes his hands from you and lets you roll off his lap. You reattach your bra and pull your shirt over your head while Chris sits still, his head pressed against the headrest.
Trying to lighten the mood, you chuckle, “We fogged up the windows.”
Your words pull him from his thoughts. “Uh, yeah.” You point to your jeans and he hands them to you, barely making eye contact.  
“Is everything alright?” you ask, worry sinking in.
“Yeah, I think-,” he hesitates, searching for the words. “I think I just realized something I hadn’t fully understood yet.”
“Babe,” you whisper as you reach out for him.
“There’s so much at stake here, and I don’t want to lose you.” His eyes lock with yours and there’s a shine to them that pulls at your heart.
“You’re not losing me.” You’re confused by his words and fear crawls up your spine.
“I know, but I could.”
“Chris, we’re doing amazing. You’re getting an apartment, a divorce, the semester is almost over. We’re so close to having it all work out.”
His gaze drops, “Jennifer won’t sign the papers.” 
Your mind races, trying to rationalize his wife’s actions.
“You can negotiate. Have your lawyers work out the details of the split. Her signing the papers immediately was just wishful thinking.” You work your jeans over your ankles.
“No, (Y/N). She doesn’t want a divorce. She wants to give our marriage another try.”
The words sit between you two, barely a whisper, as you try to understand what he’s saying.
“Whe-, when did she say that?”
“She left me a voicemail this afternoon.”
You want to push the fear out of your head. He’d reassured you of his love too much for him to just throw you away. “You’re going to tell her no, right?”
His eyes meet yours and his lips open, but no words come out.
“Chris, you’re leaving her. You said your marriage was over. That I was part of your future.”
“I meant it, you are. But I have to think about the last 5 years.”
“You mean the last 5 years you’ve spent with her.”
Heat rises in your chest and you desperately need to get out of this car. You reach for your shoes and Chris grabs your wrist, trying to keep you there.
“I love you, (Y/N). You know that.”
“Stop, Chris,” you practically growl, pulling your arm away from him. You push the car door open and pull your jeans up as you stand.
“I want to be with you, I really do. It’s just-,” you cut him off by slamming the door.
You pull open the front door quickly, and grab your bag. “It’s that your two months with me don’t mean anything compared to your years with her.” He starts to speak again but you shut the door before he gets the words out.
You walk toward campus, leaving the dark, empty parking lot and him, trying to put distance between you two.
“(Y/N),” he calls as he gets out to follow you.
“I said this exact thing would happen, didn’t I? That you’d leave me, go back to her?” you shout as you make it to the sidewalk. You turn on your heels to see him standing a few feet from his car, tears in his eyes. “Goddammit Chris, I didn’t want to be right.”
“I don’t know what to do. I love you and I want to be with you,” his voice cracks and your instincts nearly push you back to him.
“Then that should be all that matters.”
“I-, I have to think about all of this. There’s more happening here than a simple split, and she’ll fight me if I just say no.”
“Then fight. For me. For your happiness. Jesus, just figure out what you want Chris.”
He calls your name one more time, but you shake your head and turn away from him. And maybe what you thought your future would look like too. Your tears spill over and your fingers shake. Taking in deep breaths to stop your lungs from hyperventilating, you clench your hands into fists.
Sadness, anger, and regret weigh your bones down, slowing your pace and daring you to look back.
But you keep walking.
Tags: @suz-123 @irishdancr24 @lostboyinneverland @anakin-skywalkers @funlizzie02 @void-imaginations @cryingovershipsthatneversailed @breezykpop @jcc04220 @nys30 @jonsnowisnotdeadthough @guera31 @wickedcitywitch @thelondondreamer5 @patzammit @lilypalmer1987 @thefridgeismybestie @ssweet-empowerment @sophiealiice @lostxsea
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lamptracker · 6 years
Text
FIC: Love is Christmas
The second in the Jacob Batalon holiday fic series. I’m doing one of these for every holiday. That’s the plan, anyway.
Also: The drama class story is a true story. Sophomore year was a weird time. And I think in celebration of hitting 400 followers I’ll do a blurb night tonight!
FIC: Love is Christmas
Pairing: Jacob Batalon/Reader
Summary: Pre-Christmas cuteness. Cookie baking, kitchen dancing, and the reader tries to explain how Die Hard is a Christmas movie.
Love is Christmas by Sara Bareilles
Tagged: @batalechon because she’s the one that got me aboard the Jacob Train, tbh
Jacob bounded up the stairs two at a time as he made his way up to (y/n)’s apartment. They’d met a few weeks prior, at Zendaya’s Christmas party; they were originally consoling each other after the people they were in love with came to the party with each other. But they wound up spending the entire party in Zendaya’s kitchen, talking and laughing, and when it was all over they ended up under the mistletoe together and kissed. (They tried not to think about the fact that before they ended up under it, said mistletoe was previously down the front of Tom Holland’s pants.)
Since then, they’d gone out a few times, but they weren’t exclusive.
At least not yet.
(Y/n) had invited Jacob over to hang out that afternoon. “I’m feeling festive,” she’d said. “I want to watch Christmas movies and bake cookies with someone, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather do it with than you. So, what do you think?’
“That sounds great! I’ll call an Uber and I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
“Awesome. Bring your favorite Christmas movie too.”
“Jacob! I’m so glad you could come over,” she said as opened the door. She wrapped her arms around him for a hug. “Come on in.”
“Thanks,” he said, as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I brought my favorite Christmas movie. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”
“‘You serious, Clark?’” she asked, quoting a line from the movie. “That’s my second-favorite Christmas movie!”
“Yeah? What’s your favorite?”
(Y/n) didn’t say anything, just went over to her bookshelf and pulled out a DVD. Jacob carefully took it from her and laughed.
“Die Hard? How is that a Christmas movie?”
(y/n) rolled her eyes at him playfully. “Well, let’s see. It takes place at a company Christmas party. The one guy has on a shirt that says ‘Now I have a machine gun, ho-ho-ho.’ John McLane is trying to make up with his estranged wife and put his family back together by Christmas morning. It’s a Christmas movie.”
Jacob laughed again. “Ah. I see. Well, let’s say we put one of these in, huh?”
“Sounds good. I figure we can watch one, do some baking, and then watch the other one.”
“Awesome.” She popped in the movie he’d brought, started up the DVD, and sat next to him on the couch, snuggled into his side.
Smiling, Jacob wrapped an arm around her.
They watched the movie in relative silence. Jacob found that with her, the silence was comfortable and easy, never awkward like it can usually be.
“I took a drama class in high school,” she said, about halfway through. “Our teacher wanted us to write a script and act it out for the class. My group couldn’t think of anything so one boy put together a script with scenes from this movie.” She laughed as she sat up slightly. “Good thing our teacher had never seen it, we got an A and big praise for ‘such an original script.’ I played the dual role of Audrey and Aunt Bethany. My costume note for Audrey from this kid was, ‘Dress like Stone Temple Pilots.’”
Jacob burst into laughter. “That is hilarious.”
If Jacob had to be honest, he loved this stage of a new relationship - the one where you’re just getting to know someone, and you find out little tidbits of their lives.
As she smiled and settled back into his arms, he hoped she’d actually want a relationship with him. Because he was really starting to like her.
The first movie had ended and they were now in the kitchen, working on Christmas cookies. Nothing terribly fancy - just some sugar cookies that they were going to decorate. But Jacob was still having a great time.
(y/n) had her Spotify Christmas playlist blaring as they decorated cookies; she sang along to one of the songs as she sprinkled colored sugar onto some of them.
“Jacob, yours look really great,” she said.
“Eh. I don’t know about that,” he replied modestly.
“No really. They do.” She walked over and curled her arms around his waist, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back to her cookies.
Jacob could almost feel himself blush at the sudden contact.
Just then, “Love is Christmas” by Sara Bareilles started playing through the Bluetooth speakers.
“Ohhhh. Jacob! I love this song. Put that piping bag down and come dance with me.”
“I, uh… okay.” Jacob set down the piping bag and walked to where (y/n) was standing, in the middle of the kitchen. His arms went around her waist, hers around his neck; they gently began to sway to the music.
He was really starting to like this girl. A lot.
He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what. Maybe, as cheesy and chick-flick-y as it sounded, it was everything. He liked her sense of humor, which was a lot like his: Goofy, self-deprecating, often inappropriate. He liked her enthusiasm for everything from a good movie to dogs to a leaf hitting the water just right. He liked the way her entire face lit up when she smiled. He really, really liked that smile.
And, above everything else, he especially liked the way she felt in his arms.
“I have a confession,” she said softly, mid-song.
Jacob pulled back slightly to shoot her a confused look. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re secretly married.”
(Y/n) laughed loudly. “Nope.”
“Family sold you for a goat?”
“No!”
Jacob grinned. “Secretly married to a goat?”
(y/n) sighed dramatically. “Alright, ya got me. His name’s Billy and we’ve been married since I was nine. Doesn’t do much around the house but we’ve got the best-looking lawn this side of Burbank.”
Jacob burst into laughter. “You are such a goof!”
“Afraid so.” She smiled that smile that Jacob really, really liked. “But in all seriousness… Jacob Batalon, I have taken quite a liking to you.”
Jacob breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Because I’ve taken quite a liking to you.”
She smiled again as he pulled her closer to him, resting his chin on top of her head.
Well, Jacob, he thought to himself, if you’re looking for the perfect time to ask, this is probably it.
He took a deep breath, and then said: “Hey. Um… I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I really like you, and...do you want to be my girlfriend?”
She straightened up, grabbed his face in her hands, and kissed him firmly.
“Does that answer your question?” she asked breathlessly after she’d pulled away.
It did.
“Yeah.” He bent down to kiss her again, but her phone rang, interrupting the moment.
“Ah. Who on Earth… oh!” She pressed a button on her phone, lifting it to her ear. “Hey, Z, what’s up?...Oh, sure. New Year’s Eve party, sounds fun. Yeah, I’ll be there… look, can I bring my boyfriend?... just recently.” She winked at Jacob, who stifled a laugh. “Sounds great, do you need me to bring anything?...Alright. I’ll see you then! Talk to you later, bye.” She hung up and smiled at Jacob. “Zendaya’s having a New Year’s Eve party. I’m bringing you as my plus-one.”
“Sounds awesome.” Just then, Jacob’s phone rang.
(y/n) laughed. “I bet I know who that is.”
Jacob chuckled softly as he answered the phone. “Hey, Daya, what’s going on?”
“Not a lot. Just having a little get-together for New Year’s at my place. Not as many people as the Christmas party, but you’re one of my favorites so you’re on the list. You in? Harrison and the Hollands are coming too.”
“You bet your ass I’m in, sounds lit. Oh, hey, can I bring my girlfriend?”
“What the hell?! You’re someone’s boyfriend now? Sheesh. Everyone out here gettin’ boyfriends and whatnot. I don’t have one. Don’t want one, but that’s not the... I mean, yeah, no problem. Can’t wait to meet whoever that poor sucker is.”
“You know I’m still on the phone, right?”
Zendaya laughed. “Just teasin’, man. See you at my place, 9pm, New Year’s Eve. Bring whatever you want to drink.”
“I’ll be there. Talk to you later, Daya.”
“Bye, Jacob.”
He hung up the phone as (y/n) dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Hey,” she said. “Um, I know we just started dating, but it’s close to Christmas and… do you want me to get you anything? Like, a present?”
“Just having you is all the present I need.” He held her close to him again, kissing her softly.
“What a cheeseball.” She smiled as she gently rubbed his nose with the tip of hers. “I’ve got an idea. I know you’re flying back to Hawaii for Christmas, but when do you get back?”
“The 29th.”
“Okay. So, how about on the 30th, we reconvene here and then we go shopping together? We can pick out all the stuff we wanted to get for Christmas but didn’t get, and get it for each other.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“Great. It’s a date. But now, we have Die Hard to watch.” She grabbed his hand and led him back to the couch; she popped out the first disc and put in Die Hard.
Jacob smiled to himself as she snuggled into his side. This was shaping up to be the best Christmas ever.
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