#unfortunate but i think focusing on the red and pink looks nice??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miekasa · 3 years

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six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex.

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team.

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.”

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader

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cherrycheridarling · 3 years

Text

gross | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: fluff

summary: you go live and sing an unreleased song to your fans. some catch onto the inspiration, including the one who inspired you. {listen to gross by olivia rodrigo (if you feel like it)}

wc: 1k

"Hello, my children. Welcome to my live." you gestured around your room as you propped your phone against your piano and took a seat on the bench.

The number of viewers grew by thousands every second and you smiled while you watched. Hundreds of comments flooded in; emojis, exclamation marks.

"When is the album coming out?" you read a comment, "Ooh, not for a while, unfortunately. Still have lots of work to do on it. But soon!" you assured them.

"Where are you right now? I am in my home. My humble abode. Specifically in my living room." you picked up the phone and showed the space. "It's a bit messy. Don't tell my mum."

Your eyes lingered on the telly before finding their way back to the comments, "What am I watching? C'mon, 'Criminal Minds', of course! Matthew Gray Gubler is my husband, have to be a supportive wife."

"How did you meet Tom and Jacob? How did I meet my adopted children? Um, Zendaya introduced us at a party and we've been best friends ever since." you smiled at the mention of your three closest friends.

"Where are they? I'm assuming you mean Tom, Jacob and Daya. They are filming right now, I believe? Not sure."

"Is there any song you can sing for us that's on the album? Hmm," you rubbed your chin, contemplating, "There is one, but I'm not sure it's going to be on the album. I wrote it a few days ago. It does not have a name yet, but I think I can grace you guys with a little something." you smirked before playing a little melody on the keys in front of you.

You hit a chord before clapping a beat, "Not long ago when I saw you there with your brown-eyed grin and your messy hair and every girl at the party was looking at you. Ooh-ooh-ooh." you smiled at the camera before continuing.

"I wonder what I'd say if I knew back then that the brown-eyed boy'd be my best friend. And the one I'd give my heart to. Ooh-ooh-ooh." you were so engrossed in singing that you didn't notice the certain brown-eyed boy join your live or the thousands of comments filled with theories.

'OMG THIS IS ABT TOM'

'no fucking way this isn't about tom'

'AHSGAAA IM SCRAMAING'

'tom has brown eyes and messy hair...'

'PLSSSS THIS IS SO CUTE'

'my y/s/n heart is screaming'

'i'm dead. deceased'

"Now everything reminds me of you, your pictures framed all over my room and if I hate someone you'll hate 'em, too."

Your mind wandered to the polaroid picture of you and Tom that was stuck on your bedroom wall. It was taken at one of Zendaya's many get togethers. You had fallen asleep on Tom's shoulder and he had fallen asleep with his head on yours. Jacob had taken the opportunity to capture the moment on Zendaya's polaroid and graciously given you the picture.

You went back to playing the piano, "As long as I'm your darling angel, I don't need anything in the world. 'Cause I feel like the luckiest every second that I'm your girl. I wanna do everything with you."

'TOM JOINED OSMDH'

'my PARENTS'

'HI TOM OMFG'

'he calls her darling angel i can die happy'

'TOM MF HOLLAND IS HERE AND SHES SINGING ABT HIM'

'MOM AND DAD ADOPT ME WTF'

'smo better be screenrecording this'

You continued to sing, clueless to the comments flooding, "Take the highs, I'll take the lows. I'll keep you close, give you the most. Oh, baby. I like you so much it's kinda gross, yeah. I like you so much it's kinda gross."

You shut your eyes and remembered all the times Tom would pick you up and you would take drives down the coast or to the grocery store even though you didn't need anything. When he would get you strawberry ice cream at Mario's Gelato because he knew that it would make you smile. Extra sprinkles, of course.

"And driving in your car, I feel all grown up. Is it me or does it feel more than high school love? Not gonna lie, your last name sounds so nice."

Y/N Holland.

"I love when you complain about things like traffic. Love when you're tired, baby, I like all of it. Honestly, I can't believe you're mine."

"I hate Los Angeles." Tom groaned as you stopped at yet another red light, hundreds of cars in front of you.

"What did L.A. ever do to you, love?" you chuckled.

Tom frowned and grabbed your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles, "Most ridiculous traffic in the entire world. But I have you here, so I guess it's tolerable."

You shook your head with a smile, "Eyes on the road, Holland."

"I bring you up in every conversation. We're young, I know we got to be patient, but I know I want my life to have you in it. Ooh, and as long as I'm your darling angel, I don't need anything in the world. And I feel like the luckiest every second that I'm your girl."

Tom watched your live with a bright smile, unable to fight his grin as he watched you sing a song he knew was about him. Jacob and Zendaya perched on his shoulders in his trailer as they watched with him.

"You're whipped." Jacob told him.

Tom nodded absentmindedly, too focused on your singing to respond.

"Of course he is. His girlfriend is singing a song about him in front of– How many?" she leaned in closer to check the amount of viewers, "Almost fifty thousand people."

"She's not my girlfriend." Tom mumbled.

Zendaya scoffed, "Only because you haven't asked her. 'Darling angel', huh?" she smirked.

Tom felt his cheeks turn pink, "That's what she is."

As the song ended, Tom felt a wave of sadness at the fact that it was over. He quickly typed a comment before leaving the live.

You finished with a snap and an awkward smile before a comment caught your eye.

'love it, darling angel'

#tom holland smut #tom holland x osterfield!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland

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kiseki-no-scenarios · 3 years

Text

Ahh, I had SO MANY IDEAS so of course I had to put it down in writing!

GOM + Kasamatsu reactions to having an indirect kiss with their crush - Part 1 (Akashi, Midorima, Aomine)

Akashi

Sitting quietly on the tatami mat, Akashi’s gaze was focused on the shoji board that was set up in front of him. He had just taken a sip of his tea when you had burst into the room, face flushed and sweat beading along your hairline as you panted, leaning against the doorframe.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late!!!”

Not missing a single beat or showing any sort of surprise, Akashi calmly set the teacup back down, folding his arms as he smiled serenely at you. “It’s no problem, _____.”

“Sensei wanted to chat with me about one of the assignments, then we just started chatting about the show that was on TV last night…”

You were too busy smoothing down your flyaway hairs and the skirt of your uniform to notice that Akashi was watching you with an uncharacteristic warmth in his eyes. Not that he’d be explicitly admitting to it so easily anytime soon, but he truly looked forward to the games of shoji the two of you played together.

“I’m going to definitely impress you today, Akashi-kun!” You stated confidently, sitting down across the board. “I’m been practicing a whole lot!”

“We shall see.” Akashi responded diplomatically, nudging the board slightly so it was set exactly in the middle between the two of you.

The air grew thick with tension as the two of you began, Akashi murmuring words of praise as he saw that you were indeed putting his teaching into practice, managing to stay ahead of him for most of the match. However, he had no intent to let go of this pastime with you anytime soon, so he enjoyed the look of frustration on your face as he cleanly delivered a strategic response to your tactics.

“Not again…!” You sighed, tapping your fingers against your side as you studied the board intently.

His next words died in his throat as he watched you absentmindedly pick up the teacup-his teacup, that his lips had touched-and bring it up to your lips. You were clearly focused on the match and had accidentally grabbed the wrong cup.

“Oh, this is really delicious!”

Akashi felt his mouth grow dry, his mind clearly conjuring other ideas of what exactly you were referring to as being delicious…

Midorima

“Mido-kun!! Is that what I think it is???”

Grabbing the cup out of the green-haired shooter’s hands, you stared at it in wonder. “How long did you have to line up for this?”

“It was my lucky item, so of course I had Takao acquire it.”

“Don’t even get me started, _____-chan.” The point guard groaned, his head resting atop his folded arms. “I had to wake up so early to get to the store, and there were already people there!”

The item in question was a new offering at one of the most popular bubble tea shops in the area, and unfortunately it was a daily limited-item selection. There was no way, with your constant need for the most sleep you could manage in a day and the fact that your parents had been less than impressed with your begging to take off a day of school to try what you had referred to as the “elixir of the gods” for you to even get a taste of it.

You stared longingly at the drink, Midorima easily understanding the look of desperation in your eyes. He had tried it, but didn’t find it much to write home about-but, nonetheless, he had to have it on his person.

Unconsciously, your tongue had darted out and swept across your lips, and Midorima felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of your wet lips, the lips that had been recently haunting his thoughts.

His fingers gripped the edges of his desk before he adjusted his glasses, as nonchalantly as possible as he cleared his throat.

“_____. If you’d like, I can certainly share-“

“Then try it if you want, _____-chan!” Takao raised his hand, pushing the drink right up against your mouth. “It’s too sweet for Shin-chan, so he’s probably not going to be able to finish it!”

“W-Wait, but I didn’t even ask if it’s okay-!”

A smattering of red bloomed across Midorima’s cheeks as he realized that your lips were touching exactly where his lips were earlier.

“T-That’s acceptable.” He managed to eek out as he tilted his gaze to the left, avoiding the knowing look Takao was sending his way.

“Thanks so much Mido-kun, you’re the best!!”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to slap Takao or begrudgingly thank him for his antics.

Aomine

“Satsuki, hand me the juice.” Aomine muttered, one arm slung over his eyes as he yawned. It was lunchtime, the sun was nice outside…perfect time for a nap. He’d been too lazy to go buy his food himself, and despite the multitude of complaints from the pink-haired manager, she still acted as a courier for his drinks and snacks.

“Oh, actually it’s _____, Aomine-kun.”

Aomine’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, his body immediately reacting as he jerked himself into a sitting position. The sun was directly shining into his eyes as he swore under his breath, feeling slight whiplash from how quickly he righted himself. “What the fuck?!”

You smiled sheepishly as you climbed the ladder to the top of the roof, gesturing to the bag held in you left hand. “Momoi-chan was called away for something, so I volunteered to drop stuff off for you.”

Aomine rubbed the back of his neck nervously, clearing his throat. “Ah, you didn’t have to do that…”

“No worries! I actually wanted to find this secret spot you were talking about!” You were about to sit down before you hesitated. “Well, if it’s okay for me to be here, or I can leave…”

“N-No, you can stay!” Aomine cringed as he listened to the way he stuttered-he was acting like some kindergartener kid with a crush on the cutest girl in the school.

“Oh, perfect!” You brightened up immediately, plopping down next to Aomine, completely ignoring the way his cheeks flushed slightly as you brushed up against him. “I feel so honored to be here! I can see why you like it, it’s quiet, and warm…perfect for a nap.”

“Yeah, I suppose…” Clearing his throat, Aomine busied himself with digging through the bag and fishing out the drinks. “Uh, thanks for bringing all of this.” Trying to hide his embarrassment, he opened one of the drinks, easily chugging down half of its contents.

“You’re welcome! Oh, but…” You pout, swiping the bottle out of his hands. “That was the one I wanted to try!”

Before he even had a chance to say anything, you had already placed the bottle to your lips, helping yourself to the drink. “Oh, this is delicious!”

Aomine’s mouth gaped open slightly as he watched how you licked your lips before handing the bottle back to him. “It was delicious, Aomine-kun~"

—

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#knb #knb scenarios #kuroko no basket #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #midorima shintarou x reader #midorima shintarou #aomine daiki x reader #aomine daiki

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nightlychaotic · 2 years

Text

Fanning the Flames

Robin dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a bright pink heart shaped blast. "Anyone know what this thing is!?" he called out into the mind link.

The chorus of nos was not reassuring as he readied a few birdarangs in his hands hearing the soft zip and the sound of someone landing in the alley he had taken cover in.

He peered around the dumpster, spotting the ladybug themed hero they'd seen fighting Eros. He let out a silent breath of relief, stowing the birdarangs away as a rapid beeping was heard. The bright flash of red drew his attention back to the spotted heroine to find her now in civvies.

"Oh, Marinette!" Eros called out.

The girl paled, reaching into her bag, pulling out a cookie and handing it to the red bug thing he saw sitting in her hand.

"Move!" he yelled, rushing out of his hiding spot to tackle her out of the way, as Artemis yelled in his mind.

"Guys, do not get hit!"

"Why?"

"Kid Idiot here got hit and now won't let go of me!"

"It's not bad being hit. It's relaxing and nice. You should let Eros whammy you. Feel the love."

"Disconnecting Wally."

He tuned out of the conversation as he focused on the girl in front of him. Her eyes glanced around quickly, taking in what was happening before trying to stand up. He quickly stood, helping her up.

“Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer him as she grabbed his wrist, shoving something, the bug thing?, in her bag before pulling him along behind her, avoiding the small side streets and going straight for the main road, putting as much distance in a short time between them and Eros.

“Don’t you think it’s risky running out in the open?”

“He knows I’d usually go for the alleys. He’ll be looking there,” she shot back, pulling off into the gardens coming to a rest in the covered tunnel created by rose-covered trellises before slowing to a stop, finally letting go of his wrist, catching her breath slightly, her cheeks rosy from the sprinting.

“What is that?” he asked.

“An akuma.”

“I need a bit more information than that, beautiful,” he replied, blinking as he heard himself say that last part. Where’d that come from? She was beautiful, yes he wouldn’t lie about that but he wasn’t trying to flirt. Not in the middle of hiding from Eros.

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at him, concern clear as her blue eyes as they met the lenses of his mask.

“Were you hit?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t feel anything anyways,” he said, checking his suit and finding no signs of damage. “No sign of anything hitting me either.”

She let out a breath, shaking her head in annoyance at what he said, before launching into what sounded like both an explanation for him and thinking out loud for her.

“It’s not going to leave any noticeable effect. Love akumas, they're vague. It’s going to be something subtle. Acting out of character, extremely out of character singing, lip color, a small mark, eye color….” she trailed off, looking at him, eyes roaming as she studied him. “Eyes. It’s the eye color. Can I see your eyes?”

It didn’t even register to him that he was a half a second away from pulling his mask off for her, until he felt the slight pull from the mask. He grit his teeth quickly pulling his hands away from his face.

She frowned slightly as she watched. “A graze then.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s going to be slow and gradual, not immediate like it would have been had you been hit directly. It’ll feel like a more natural progression instead of the instant obsession,” she said, pursing her lips before starting her next thought. “So-”

“So soon enough you’ll be the only thing on my mind. I should leave,” he finished her thought.

She nodded. “Thank you for taking the hit. It’s pretty much game over if I go down and unfortunately I’m the main target.”

So she was Marinette. A pretty name for a beautiful girl. He shook his head, taking a few steps away from her.

“I should go.”

The idea of leaving her behind felt wrong. She only nodded.

"Your team. Get them underground please. It'll keep them safe and out of my- Ladybug’s way."

"Out of the way? We can help."

"You are going to be useless to them within the hour most likely, and they were going for brute strength. You can't fight and win this without losing yourself. You need to use your brain and tricks and it'll be easier for me to do that if they aren't in the way. At least keep myself out of trouble until Ladybug shows up. Now go."

He nodded, taking off in the opposite direction, ignoring the soft tug in his gut for him to go back and stay with her.

“Miss M, disconnect me.”

“Robin, is everything okay?”

“I got grazed by a blast. Mar- Ladybug says I’m still hit, just going to take a bit longer for the full force to hit me. She wants you guys to get underground, take cover in the sewers. Safest place, she doesn’t want other heroes getting hit and in her way.”

"We can hel-"

"She doesn't want it."

"Okay. Stay safe."

With that they were gone, that was a mistake for him. Without the team’s talking in the back of his mind he found it harder and harder to keep his thoughts from straying back to her. Her blue eyes and pigtails, her freckles, her concern for him despite being the one Eros was targeting.

Eros was targeting her.

She was a target.

Why was he walking away from her when she was the main target. He could protect her. Why leave when he could stay close and keep her safe.

He didn’t know when he switched directions and started making his way back to the rose covers tunnel and that scared him. That was- that was disconcerting. He wasn’t in control, not fully. That was terrifying.

He stopped his path back to the rose trellises when he caught the spotted heroine swing by in his peripheral. He didn’t even think as he grappled up landing behind her as she scanned the city, heart racing as he got close, breath catching slightly.

“Marinette-”

She turned her eyes snapping to meet his, wide before they narrowed slightly, she taking a few steps back.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I saw you detransform,” he admitted. “I wasn’t aware there was a hero in Paris.”

“Heroes. There’s two of us. We’re partners,” she informed him, a pang of jealousy shooting through him at the word partners.

She was taken already. Of course she was. She was amazing and beautiful and kind and a hero to top it off. Of course she was unavailable. He was too late.

“Then where’s your partner?”

“That is my partner,” she hissed, pointing out towards the city.

“Eros?”

“That’s what he’s going by at the minute isn’t it,” she bit out.

“Bit much for a lovers spat don’t you think?”

“No! We’re not- I’m single. That’s why I’m in this mess in the first place. Valentine’s continues to prove a pain to me and my life,” she muttered. “Love akumas everytime.”

He couldn’t help the grin that came with the wave of relief as she said that she was single. “We could change that.”

“I’m not going to date a stranger.”

“Hi I’m Robin. Also known as Dick Grayson.”

“Well that complicates everything,” she breathed out, cheeks growing pink.

“But we’re no longer strangers. No secrets now. Simple.”

“We’ll see how you feel about that after I take care of Eros,” she muttered.

“We.”

“We?”

“I’m going to help you. I want to protect you.”

“Protect- You-” She started but broke off as she looked at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that I’m with you. Concerted,” he answered, crunching his face quickly.” No, scratch that, disconcerted. Struggling to focus on anything other than you. I don’t have a problem with that though, love.”

Her sharp exhale was the only warning that something was happening, before she’d grabbed him and pulled him out of the way of another blast. Into her. He didn’t hesitate in hugging her. This was right. He belonged here. In her arms.

The feeling of being right where he belonged continued as she tried to dive out of the way, rolling and narrowly missing the blast, letting out a small huff as Robin held onto her.

“Robin, I need you to let go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I need to put everything right, and I can’t do that while you are hugging me.”

“Everything’s perfect right now though.”

“Well, almost,” Eros’ voice cut in. “Ladybug here still doesn’t believe that she deserves to love or be loved. What do you think, Robin?”

“She’s beautiful and strong and amazing and kind and sweet. She deserves the world.”

Eros laughed looking at the two. “I like how he thinks. I think I’m a pretty good matchmaker if I do say so myself, so if you would please just let me work my magic on you Ladybug. We’ll be all set,” he said before launching his attack, slowly growing more frustrated as his attacks continued to be blocked by the currently over affectionate hero hugging her as if there was no tomorrow.

“Sorry, Eros. Looks like you can’t get to me because someone already has,” she told him with a grin.

Eros grit his teeth, grabbing Robin and prying him off of Ladybug, not expecting the young vigilante to put up a fight, the two struggling mid-air as Ladybug threw her yoyo, hitting Eros smack dab in the forehead and knocking the rose tucked behind his ear out.

He yelled out in pain, dropping Robin, the vigilante barely having the time to feel the sensation of freefall before he saw Ladybug dive off the roof, catching the rose before angling herself towards Robin, sweeping him into her arms as she threw her yoyo, bringing to a safe landing on the ground and crushing the rose.

She wasted no time in de-evilising the akuma, giving Robin a quick once over before muttering a quiet, “Wait here please,” and rushing off, rose in hand towards the blonde boy sitting on the curb.

“I’m so sorry, Princess. I didn’t mean-”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have dismissed everything as harshly as I did.”

“But I shouldn’t have pushed.”

She laughed softly, wrapping an arm around him. “It just means that you care. Now if I recall correctly you and Luka have a date that you need to get ready for?”

“What about you?”

She gave him a soft smile. “I have my own date with a little bird I have to get wrapped up and taken care of. Don’t worry about me.”

The boy who had been Eros looked over at Robin, sizing him up before grinning at him. “You two would be cute together,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Ladybug rolled her eyes, giving him an affectionate shove. “Get going you mangy cat,” she shook her head, as he ran off laughing, choosing to instead make her way over to Robin. “Mind if we go somewhere a bit more private?” she asked. He nodded, readying his grapple when he felt her lightly touch his back. “We’re going to travel via yoyo if that’s okay. I’m almost out of time and it’ll be a bit faster.”

“Go for it.”

She smiled, wrapping her arms around him and throwing her yoyo letting it extend and holy how far did that thing go- before giving a small yank and pulled the two of them through the air. He cackled in delight as she repeated the action a couple of times before landing on a roof, letting him go as her earrings beeped, and the bright red flash enveloped her leaving Marinette behind along with the little bug thing.

“Robin, this is Tikki, Kwamii of Creation.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” the kwamii said, flying up so it was eye level with him.

“Uh You too, Tikki.”

“Tikki, there’s some fresh macarons on my desk.”

“Are you sure?” the kwamii asked, looking at her wielder. Marinette simply flicked her eyes over at Robin, the small creature simply giving a hum in response and density shifted through the roof. He blinked, staring at the spot where it had disappeared.

“What was that?”

“Tikki? A kwamii. Think of them as miniature gods, representing concepts. Tikki is Good Luck and Creation, her counterpart Plagg is Bad Luck and Destruction. But kwamii’s aren’t the subject of this discussion. How are you feeling? What do you remember?”

Robin sat for a second before answering. “I remember the alley, watching you detransform and tackling you out of the way. The rose tunnel, almost taking my mask off, telling you- B’s going to kill me,” he groaned.

“So you remember sharing your identity?”

“Were you not going to say anything?!”

She shrugged. “I was saving that break out for later but if you didn’t remember it I wasn’t going to say it. I would have, and still will if you want, considered it forgotten. You weren’t in your right mind at the time. How are you feeling?”

“Back to normal mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“I mean my heart still races a bit when I look at you. You’re still there in my thoughts. THey’re just not overwhelming and invasive. I can focus on things other than you. How long will the lingering effects last?”

Marinette looked away, her cheeks turning red as she blushed. “Um. Those are not lingering effects. There’s only a few minutes of confusion after everything gets set back. Those are- um- those are your own,” she finished softly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Robin felt his own cheeks heat up. “Oh. Well in that case-” he reached up and pulled his mask off and held a hand out. “I think I established this earlier but Dick Grayson, Gotham’s Boy Wonder. And I developed a crush on you in an afternoon.”

Her eyes widened before she smiled softly, taking his hand with her own. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Paris’s own Ladybug. And I’ve had a celebrity crush on you for a while.”

“Is that so?”

She laughed, taking his mask from him, gently placing it on his face before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight Robin. I hope I see you again.”

“I’ll make sure of it. Good night, Marinette.”

He watched as she expertly climbed down before disappearing into her room, getting ready to grapple away as he turned, catching a cat themed boy landing on the chimney.

“I’m running late for this but wanted to make sure two things were made clear,” the cat told him, not giving Robin the chance to say anything. “One. If you hurt her in any way, no where will be safe for you and they will never find the body. Two. Her number and email. Don’t let her slip away,” he warned, handing Robin a delicate pink card with her name printed out in curling golden letters.

“Thank you.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Robin,” was the only response before the two boys split ways.

And if Marinette woke up the next morning to a bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates accompanied with the number and email of Bruce Wayne’s ward, well a slightly belated Valentine’s never hurt anyone.

#maribat #dickinette #no beta this is war #mgicivilwar2022 #MGI Civil War 2022 #valentines day #dick justice #nightwing nerds

108 notes · View notes

tobesobri · 3 years

Text

Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs.

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed.

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen.

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes.

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all.

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date.

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level.

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces.

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building.

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.”

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?”

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response.

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it.

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her.

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs.

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car.

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse.

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office.

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself.

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered.

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art…

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth…

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant.

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands.

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be.

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner.

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember.

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out.

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening.

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine.

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.”

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone.

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth.

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year.

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office.

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried.

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen.

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest.

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her.

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him.

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office.

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody.

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex.

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people.

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were.

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry.

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?”

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information.

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry.

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet.

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him.

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that.

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with.

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough.

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.”

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends.

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here.

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him.

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced.

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away.

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic.

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room.

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew.

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume.

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.”

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.”

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right.

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.”

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time.

“Right… I’d be upset too.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it.

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.”

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her.

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way.

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good…

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed.

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself.

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back.

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…”

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach.

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?”

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat.

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words.

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

#1dffvalentine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration.

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic.

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him.

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss.

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom.

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully.

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before.

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him.

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave.

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him.

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds.

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there.

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him.

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did.

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake.

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question.

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all.

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much.

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say.

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion.

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time.

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George.

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken.

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged.

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long.

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall.

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away.

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked.

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure.

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter.

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing.

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong.

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners.

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk.

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression.

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation.

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath.

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say.

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips.

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night.

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on.

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style.

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #wedding #enemies to lovers

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selinakidreams · 3 years

Text

here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup.

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out.

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar.

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party.

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar.

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets.

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.”

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out.

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you.

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense.

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything.

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.``

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent.

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both. When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice.

Handsome would be an understatement.

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness.

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you.

“You comin’?”

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together.

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction.

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail.

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer.

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict.

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm.

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could.

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty.

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused.

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.”

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night.

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back.

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong.

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers.

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you.

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry.

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?”

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand.

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.”

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped.

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside.

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now.

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head.

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

“You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.”

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something...

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”, before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist.

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices.

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand.

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face.

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct.

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing.

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue.

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl… Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

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fruitoftheweek · 3 years

Text

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 5: Matching Memories

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

Hey guys! Again sorry for the wait! Both my computer and my work schedule have been ass and every time I thought I was going to have free time, I absolutely did not. I was really looking forward to writing this chapter after all the appreciation I got from the last chapter and I am so excited to enduldge you with this 7,356 word chapter. I am also working on a fluffier oneshot that should come out in the next couple days which I am so excited to write! I hope you guys really like this chapter! Love you guys and thank you for 120 Followers!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After the previous nights' escapades, you and Spencer decide to talk about boundaries as your team questions your budding relationship

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slapping, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), Handjob, fingering, pleading, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, language, non-intentional self-harm (hard to explain), PDA, degradation, smut smut smut.

Word Count: 7,356

Spencer loved to match everything but his socks. You found that out the morning after your late-night escapades. You weren't sure if your alarm hadn't gone off or if you two had just slept through it but you two were running late and the plane was leaving in 40 minutes with a 30-minute drive to the airport. The actual thing that had woken you up was Morgan banging on the door, notifying you that he had dropped off Spencers go-bag.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he bumped his elbow on the table, hurriedly trying to get his socks on. You peeked around the door frame of the bathroom, checking on him to make sure he was ok as you shoved your toiletries into your bag. You watched, curiously as he stopped what he was doing and purposefully banged his other elbow on the same table. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, but right now, you had to go.

Along the way, you had noticed small habits that Spencer had to keep himself "matching." Once you saw it once, you couldn't help noticing it. How he brushed his teeth the same number of times on each side of his mouth. How he had to eat at least two peanuts at a time so that he could match the chewing on either side of his mouth. These were all harmless, but you worried when he bumped his right temple on the window of the cab as it went over a pothole, and you watched as he proceeded to turn his head and bump the other side. Most of the morning had been held in comfortable silence as you reveled in the afterglow of the previous night. So when you silently reached up to his head and brought it down to your shoulder, Spencer didn't mind. You made sure to gently rub his temple to apply even pressure to make sure his sides matched, a caring gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Luckily you two had made it to the jet on time, only catching a couple of questioning glances from Morgan and Elle as you rushed on, red-faced. You hurriedly sat next to each other as the plane took off, Spencer shoving both of your go-bags in the upper compartment as you held his book. He had brought Graziella, and had already read it 4 times; you, unfortunately, had brought nothing as it was your first trial case. He sat down, and you handed him his book, his fingers tentatively brushed yours in a silent question. Neither of you had fully discussed your relationship this morning in the rush and you could tell he was nervous to talk to you about it. As he pulled away, you captured his wrist before he could go too far, gently drawing a small heart into the inside of his wrist with your finger as you looked up into his eyes. He smiled slightly, understanding that you would talk about it when you had reached home.

This small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed as Morgan watched you from the other side of the jet. He stocked his way up to you with a shark grin on his lips as he smelled blood in the water. "So, You two woke up late huh? How come you never made it back to our room last night, pretty boy?" He mused, enjoying the light pink tinge resting on Spencer's cheeks. "You were the one who took both of our room keys and wouldn't let me in! And- and she was nice enough to let me sleep in her room even though it was a one-person room." He retorted, knowing Morgan's implications. "Woah, chill, Reid. I was just asking some questions." Morgan replied, feigning innocence. "Yeah, I took Reid's virginity last night. How could you tell?" You stated matter of factly, earning a shocked squeak from Reid, and spluttered out laughter from Morgan. "That's what you want to hear right? C'mon Spencer, he’s just giving us a hard time because he wasn't invited to our movie marathon last night." You lied, shooting a joking wink to Spencer, hoping he would get the drift and go along with the story. "Hey, we didn't- yEAh he wouldn't get the nuance of 'Une Femme est Une Femme' and the directorial skills of Jean-Luc Godard." He said, catching on when you pinched the soft spot under his ribs. Morgan just rolled his eyes, frustrated at not getting what he wanted before sulking back to his seat.

You smiled up at Spencer before saying, "Good boy," just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. It was the first time you had alluded to your escapades that yestereve and you both felt a breath of fresh air as the slight tension was lifted off of your backs. Spencer was flustered in multiple ways; he loved the way you praised him, and he now believed you felt regrets about your exchange.

He felt electricity crackling in every gentle secret touch of yours that he had the luxury of experiencing that day; all he could think about was how you had touched him and how your skin felt on his. You had him wrapped all-around your finger, and he couldn't be happier. All he wanted to do was service you and please you, even in non-sexual ways, which he was happy to indulge in as he watched you staring out the window. Your fingers were discreetly tracing small drawings on his knee cap as you watched the clouds pass by. The motion caused him a great distraction from his book, and all he could do was watch your finger. Even though you weren't paying any attention to the motion of your fingers, Spencer could still envision the lines you created carving into his skin. Sometimes a little face, sometimes an abstract geometric rhombus, and his favorite, a heart with puffy humps and a pointy end. Every time you drew it, he became hyper-aware of the gentle flush coloring your cheeks as you looked out the window, sending him a secret message.

He quietly cleared his throat, as to not disturb the others; most of which had chosen to indulge in a little extra sleep to make up for their early morning. It had broken you from your entranced gaze out the window and you looked over at him smiling. "D-Did you bring anything to do on the plane?" Spencer asked as you continued your drawings on his leg. "Surprisingly, that was the one thing I forgot. I was so worried about making sure I was well briefed on the case that I forgot all about the flight." You said, smiling sleepily. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were at that moment. The gentle sunrise behind you in the window illuminated the apples of your cheeks and the highlights in your hair, which was still messy from sleeping so soon after your shower. Your eyes were puffy except for the sockets, which were slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, and you were fresh-faced, small blemishes now in the open, but all Spencer could think was that you reminded him of the fresh air of spring in the morning after a storm. He shook himself from his trance as you began to turn back towards the window. "You know, if you would like, I can read to you." He said shyly. "I know you read faster in your head, don't feel like you have to read to me because I was silly and forgot to bring a book." You said, smiling at his gesture. "N-No, I want to read to you. My mom always used to read out loud to me when I was little when she would wake up early." He said, adding waveringly, "And... and I would like to read to you, not because you didn't bring anything, but because I think you would like this book." You smiled up at him, lifting the fingers you had been swirling on his leg to your lips before gently kissing them, pressing them to his cheekbone, and returning them to their reserved spot on his leg. He took that as a green light to read aloud.

You watched as he closed the page he had been reading to flip to the beginning. You knew he remembered what page he was on but his choice to start you from the beginning melted your heart. He really wanted you to appreciate this story so you were going to give 110% of your attention to the words flowing out of his mouth.

"Ok, this book is Graziella by Alphonse de Lamartine. I arrived at Naples on the first of April. A few days later, I was joined by a young man of about my own age, to whom I had attached myself at college with the friendship of a brother." He began as you listened intently, enjoying the gentle atmosphere created by the soft hum of the jet and snores of your colleagues. Spencer continued reading aloud to you on autopilot as he focused on the drawings of your fingers, now all turned to hearts.

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The problem with taking a morning jet home was that you would have to go straight to the office to finish your paperwork before finally being able to rest in your own bed. You all trudged out of the car and into the office in varying states of awakeness, dreading the hours of work to come.

"Welcome back, you guys!" Garcia said, miscalculating the tone in the room, earning her a couple nods and grunts in response.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's apartment tonight, and she lives by you. Since you take the train home and I'm going that way, do you want a ride?" You said to Spencer, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. For a Genius and a Profiler, he sure was bad at picking up clues and hints. You weren't really going to see your friend, you just wanted some alone time with him to straighten things out, but he obviously didn't understand. "I mean if it's on the way, that would be nice. Thank you Y/L- Agent Y/L/N." He said, nearly forgetting to call you Agent in front of the others. You smiled and headed back to your seat begrudgingly, seeing the mountains of paperwork.

It was kind of sweet how oblivious he was. You were trying to be discreet at work, and you could tell he was trying too. Keyword: trying, as he was failing miserably. You could tell he was trying to be sneaky, but there was nothing sneaky about him following you to the coffee machine every time you needed a refill. He told you it was because he wanted to match and you couldn't help but indulge him. He wanted to match coffee, unfortunately finding out that you did not, in fact, like as much sugar in your coffee as him. You settled for a little bit too sweet and him not enough for the sake of matching. He came to your desk, trying to trick you by asking to borrow a pen, even though you could see his usual green pen in his shirtfront pocket. He was just so cute and just so obvious so you caved, but it was only because you wanted to see the beam on his face knowing there was yet another way you two could match. His boldest move yet was to match sweaters. If you had yours on, he had his on; when you took yours off, he would follow suit. Even though it was very cute, he was being far too bold so after a while, you decided to just keep it on.

Finally, after hours of handwriting reports and witness statements, your cramped hand said a thank you as you signed off your last sheet. You stretched languidly, looking over to Spencer's desk. He had been done for a while but was pretending to be busy so he could wait for you without subliminally pressuring you to hurry. You pulled your go bag and satchel together, getting ready to leave as you watched Spencer hold his bag, waiting for you to make the first move. You clicked your tongue at him as if you were calling a cat, "Let's get going, I don't want to be late to see my friend!" You called over to him as he shot up, padding quickly to catch up to you. "Goodnight guys! Sleep well!" You called to Morgan, Elle, and Garcia, the only ones left in the bullpen. "Ok, now something definitely has to be going on," Elle said as they watched you two leave, Spencer tripping over himself as he got in the elevator behind you.

You two shoved your bags in the back seat and got in the car. As you turned the car, your music started blaring out of the speakers. "Woah! Sorry! I like to drive with the windows down so my music is usually pretty loud." You said as you slammed on the pause button. Spencer was startled but he didn’t mind as he'd just learned new things about you. 1. You like loud music 2. You like the windows down when you drive. 3. You have great taste in music. "That's ok. Just make sure you turn down the volume sometimes, 17% of adults aged 20–69 years have suffered permanent damage to their hearing from noise-induced hearing loss. And that was... certainly loud enough to cause some noise-induced loss. Make sure to take care of yourself." He said and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. His naive sweetness and caring nature had been gnawing at you all day. All you had wanted to do while you were trying to focus on work was kiss him.

You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Even though you came in slow, you surprised him. Here you were in the Quantico parking lot, boldly kissing him when any of your coworkers could have seen. "Why-why did you do that?" he asked as you pulled away. "I can't?" you asked, pouting slightly, teasing him. "N-No, You can you can, we're just so out in the open, and we haven't talked about anything, so I didn't know how you felt, and you were ignoring me all day." He rushed out as you let out a little laugh at him. "Let's drive, cutie." You said, turning your music back on, this time to a lower volume, as you pulled out of the parking lot and down the street. "First of all sweetness, I wasn't ignoring you all day, I didn't want Morgan to tease you again. You were busy with paperwork and I knew you didn't need him being an asshole to you to make it worse. Second, did you see all the paperwork they had left? There was no way any of them would have been out in the parking lot yet." You said as you smoothly merged onto the highway towards your house.

You were wondering when he was going to notice that he was going in the opposite direction of his house but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You glanced over at him before returning your eyes to the road. You cursed yourself for not having an eidetic memory because you would have kept a snapshot of him like that in your mind forever. His hair, once slicked back, now slightly disheveled from running his hands through it as he did his paperwork and the wind from your open windows. The cool summer wind that rosied his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he gazed out the streetlights overhead. Blue, red, green, purple yellow, white; the blinking lights of the city married the sunset hues that danced across his face. Illuminating his beautifully arched nose and his prominent cheekbones, it felt as if the sun was setting just for him and the city was awakening his beauty.

You smiled to yourself as you switched the cd in the cd player for one of your classics. "Hey! You listen to these guys?! You know I was going to see them last year but then we had this case out of town and I had to miss it. That was when they were still playing at that bar by the Speedway that burnt down." Spencer said excitedly. "Really!? You like them too? I haven't seen them yet but I've been listening to them since college. I never had that much money to be spending on tickets for shows beyond small house shows. I can't believe you like them, I always thought you were more of a Debussy or Chopin person." You replied, excited to have something to share. "Yeah I mean I like pretty much every genre but I've been really into their old stuff lately and, surprisingly, also french 70s music." He said matter-of-factly.

Contrarily, he was fibbing. He knew exactly why he had been listening to it. The previous night he had dreamed of the two of you off the shore, in the south of France in spring, reading books across from each other, legs tangled together, on a chez lounge. Jacqueline Taieb played on the radio as you pulled him up to dance. He removed the thoughts from his mind as he realized his predicament. He didn't know if he was allowed to think about you like that. You had been so sweet and caring towards him last night, and you kissed him so sweetly, but he was still unsure of where you stood. He was still lost in thought as you pulled up to your apartment and parked.

"Hey, this isn't my apartment. Is this your friend's place?" He asked, surprised. "No, Sweetheart. I didn't want Morgan to bother us as we were leaving so I made up some excuse. And this is my apartment. If you want to talk about what happened last night, you can come in. Well, I guess you can come in if you don't want to either, but that's beside the point. If you don't want to talk about it or if you just want me to take you home, I can do that right now. It's up to you baby." You said, gently taking his hand in yours. "I-I want to talk about it." He said shyly. "Alright then, my partner in crime. I will welcome you into my abode. We can order some dinner and talk about it. I'm thinking curry, what about you?" you said.

You could sense his nervousness and tried to lighten the mood even though deep down you were pissing yourself. You had never really done this either. You had a couple of one-night stands and short-term relationships, but nothing that lasted that long, and something in you wanted this time to be different. The young doctor was so endearing, and he was the first person who seemed to be interested in making you happy in the relationship, unlike most of your past suitors. You were terrified that you would push him too far or something would change, and that's why it was so important you had a talk and had trust and communication. You held his hand all the way up the stairs and to your apartment, not letting go when you went to open your door. You told yourself it was to make him feel better but you knew it was because you needed to do something with your hands to get them to stop shaking.

"Sorry, it's not the cleanest space ever. I wasn't expecting guests" you said as you began to tidy up random things around the room, mostly mason jars full of water or a stray empty mug. Spencer took note of his surroundings, drinking everything in. He couldn’t remember what he assumed your apartment would look like because as soon as he entered, he couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. It was all the parts of you that he knew and all of the parts he had yet to learn. He knew that you loved reading, so the bookshelves made sense. He knew that you loved music, so the cd player with piles of CDs next to it made sense. He knew you loved movies, so the VHS player and tv with a built-in DVD player and even more stacks of media made sense. But his favorite part was the giant easel positioned by the window with a large canvas on it. "Wow, Y/N! You paint?" he asked as you continued to clean up. "Oh, don't mind that! Sorry I didn't have time to put it away before we left! I'll get it out of your way!" You said, already carrying a basket full of god knows what in your arms. "No, No! Please leave it out. It's beautiful." He said, looking at your brush strokes. "Suit yourself. Let me know if it gets in your way," you said, finishing your cleaning by fluffing the pillows on your couch.

You finished bustling around your apartment and sat down on your couch across from the TV. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting at the opposite end from you, still unsure of your boundaries. You could spot his nerves from a mile away, so you swung your legs up onto the couch and poked him in his side with your feet. "Why are you sitting so far away, Sweety," you said as he looked over at you. You looked just as you did in his dream, soft and comfy in slouchy clothes. He hadn't noticed that you had changed into some comfy pajama pants and a loose pajama top, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you changed at some point when he was in the room. He knew it was silly. He had already seen you naked, but it all felt like a dream." I'll call and order, and you think about what you want to eat and what you want from me for a bit, ok? I know this great place a couple blocks from here." You said as you pulled out your landline, and dialed the number that you had scrawled on a notepad on your coffee table.

Then, Spencer saw the notepads, notebooks, sticky notes, and other odds and ends that you had all over the house. One on the fridge, one by the easel, one on the tv stand, two on the coffee table. They were all decorated differently for each task, of which he could see two, one titled 'Yummy restaurants' and the other titled 'movies to watch.' He tried to stop his distracting thoughts of how comfortably he fit in your space and how every item embodied you perfectly, all in different ways. When he was finally able to focus, he felt you start absentmindedly kneading your feet on his thigh that was closest to you. He could barely look over at you, finding you unbelievably erotic. He sucked in a breath as your pajama shirt was only buttoned up so much, enticingly drawing his eyes to the swell of your breast that he could see above the collar of your shirt.

You hooked your foot up under his thighs and brought his legs up onto the couch as you continued to order. You tangled your legs together, lifting your right foot to his chest, gently tapping out a rhythm absentmindedly as you talked. You broke through Spencer's entrancement, asking "What do you want to eat?" "Um... Whatever you're getting." He responded, as he still hadn't even begun to look at the menu. "Yeah! Then for the second order, can I get the same thing but make it mild." You said, poking your tongue out at him teasingly before finishing your order.

You two walked to pick up your food, talking about nothing in particular. You didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room until you got back, so you filled the space with meaningless conversation that instantly stopped as you entered the house. It was silent as you got forks ready, spying Spencer sitting rigidly straight on the couch, waiting for you.

"You know, you were so bold in the office today that I didn't expect you to be this shy when we got here. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, sweet-" "I do, I really do." He said, cutting you off. "Ok! That's great. Well, I'm going to start off by saying that any relationship like this, whatever you want that to be, depends on strong trust and communication. That goes beyond the bedroom. Being on the team I trust you with my life. I know I'm new so I understand if you don't trust me yet but I just wanted to set that baseline with you. I'm going to be 1000% truthful with you and I'm going to start by saying this. I don't regret anything that we did last night. I loved what we did last night and I really like doing this with you. I want to explore with you if you would be so gracious as to let me. I find you very interesting, and I would like to be friends or more depending on what you want as we continue our rendezvous." You said as you grasped his hands, willing him to look into your eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. "I really liked what we did yesterday too. I was kind of worried that you regretted it or something. I'm really really new to everything, but I feel comfortable exploring if it's you. You made me feel really safe last night and I appreciate that a lot. I find you really beautiful and sexy and intriguing and I would like to be friends and maybe more with you now. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this... but I want to." He said, gaining some confidence. "You are allowed to say whatever you want, baby. That's why we have open communication. Everything is to make sure you are feeling as good and safe as possible," you said, rubbing his hand. " You should feel safe and good too. I know you are more experienced than me, but you deserve to be safe too." He said gently before continuing. "I was wondering if... if I could request that this be monogamous. I get really upset thinking about you with someone else." He said, and you could feel the shaking in his hands as he anticipated your reply. "Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask. Maybe I'm a little selfish, but I don't like to share my things. They're mine for a reason." You said before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, earning a smile from him. "But I think, for now, I would like to be friends and see how it goes from there while we... explore," Spencer said. You nod and smile in agreement.

"Alright, so Spencer, tell me what you're interested in, sexually. What do you think about when you jerk off? What did you think about when you read my book?" You asked nonchalantly, as you picked up your curry and rice, taking a bite as if you'd just asked him about the weather. "w-well, I think about a lot of things." He sputtered out. "Just give me a little list I can work off." You said in between bites. "Um, I like seeing you naked. I like it when we match because it feels like we have a deep connection. I like h-how you touched me yesterday. I want you to touch me more." He said shyly, hiding his face behind his cup of water. "And the other two questions?" You prodded, watching as the bulge grew in his pants. "Um, what do I think of when I jerk off? Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this," He blushed before continuing. "I think about how it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock. I think about you calling me a naughty boy. I think about you praising me. I think about your book and how there's so much more that I have to read. I think about you not wearing panties at work. And I think even more about pulling you into the storage closet, lifting up your skirt, and fucking you while everyone is working. I think about your piercings, and I think about your piercing chapter."

"What did you think of that chapter by the way? You ran off to the bathroom pretty quick. What were you thinking of doing to me, naughty boy?" you said, setting your food down on the table, leaning towards him, hands planted on his thighs. "Tell the truth, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," You said, squeezing into his thighs. He bucked up towards you, searching for friction in any way he could." f-fuck. I read the chapter when I was touching myself. I thought about how you had pointed at my boner, and I thought about how I wanted you to make fun of me, and smack me, and punish me for being naughty." he said hurriedly, hoping his answer would satiate you. "Nuh-uh! Come on, tell me the whole truth," you said and smacked his thigh. He yelped as your hand came down, leaving him with a dull sting. "Ok! But it's embarrassing so don't laugh... I thought about you cockwarming me while I pierced your tongue, and how you would drool, and how you would squeeze around me. I thought about how I wanted to mark you and make you mine." He said, covering his eyes, hiding from his shame and how it made his cock stir in his pants. "You naughty, naughty boy, Spencer Reid. I thought you were innocent but here you are with your hand on your cock, at work, thinking about my pussy and my tongue and my spit, and it made you cum. What a rascal!" you said, watching for a reaction in his pants.

You pried his arm from his eyes, so he was forced to look at your smirk. His face and neck were a deep pink, and his lips were as pillowy and soft as a rose petal from biting his them. You couldn't help yourself as you pounced on him. You knew this was supposed to be just a talk about boundaries, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air that had been lingering from the moment you had woken up. He looked so fucked out, even though you hadn’t touched him yet and part of you wanted to absolutely ruin him that night. "Remember your colors, baby. What are you feeling?" You said, now perched in his lap. "Green, green. P-Please touch me." As he said it, you ground down on him. While you were in your comfortable clothes, he was still in his tight corduroys and button-down, sweater long gone somewhere else in the apartment. "Have you ever heard of something called edging?" You asked, and he nodded excitedly. "What about overstimulation?" You said, and he nodded quickly again. "What do you think about them?" He nodded, and you smacked him, not as hard as you would usually go, but enough to leave a sting. "Use your words, naughty boy." You said, capturing his jaw and tilting his face up to meet yours. "Yes, please. I'm so green. I have been wanting you to do this, please." He shot out through squished cheeks, looking at you with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen. His warm hazel eyes, now shiny and black with desire.

You got up off of him, and he whined, missing the warmth of your body on his. You grabbed him by the back of his neck like he was a naughty kitten, and pulled him down the hall and into your bedroom. Before he could take in your room, you pushed him back on the bed. "Strip." You commanded, and your scent overwhelmed him. Your daily aroma that intoxicated him was ten times weaker than the pure pheromones that blanketed your room. Spencer mused that your room must have been built to have sex in. Your bedside tables were adorned with candles, incense, your daily jewelry, and a pair of your panties. You had a red canopy on your four-poster bed that draped your room in a soft red glow.

Your figure was obscured by the canopy as you moved some items around your room. Spencer was lost in your scent, the idea of finally being in your room, and possibly a little lost staring at the panties on your table, making him move too slow for your liking. You parted the fabric and crawled up the bed to him. "Spencer Walter Reid, if you don't strip now, you're going to get a spanking. You have been such a naughty boy today. I thought you were going to be a good boy for mommy but I guess you want to get punished." You said as you slinked back off the bed. "I'm going to count down from 10 and if you aren't naked by the time I reach 0, you are getting spanked. Understood?" You said, and he squeaked out and "Understood!" "10... " Who knew it took so long to unbutton a dress shirt? "9... " Now, his hands were stuck in his sleeves. "8..." Shirt off. "7..." Is his belt broken, or is he shaking too much? "6..." Belt undone but not off. "5..." Pants, ok. "4..." Fuck, his shoes are stuck on. "3... 2... 1... 0. STOP NOW"

You parted the curtain, smirking down at him. "I think I said naked, not underwear on." You said, looking down at him. "You didn't give me enough time!" He whined but you were already flipping him onto your lap with his ass perched in the air. "Color?" You asked, earning his eager response of "Green, so green." You pulled his underwear off and hung it on the corner of your side table, right next to your own panties. The sight was oddly domestic, making him even harder as he tried to rut into your leg. Your hand came down hard on his ass and he bucked into you moaning in shock. "You naughty boy, pathetically rubbing on me. Does my thigh feel good baby?" you asked, and he nodded. Your hand came down hard on his other cheek "How many times do I have to tell you? Use. Your. Words." Punctuating your last three words with three more smacks to his ass, gently rubbing the red skin as he cried out. "Yes, mommy! Your thigh feels so good! Thank you so much!" he said as he ground himself down on you pitifully. "Why is mommy punishing you, sweetheart?" you said, sweetening your tone. " Because I didn't get dressed?" He asked. "Hm, if you were really sorry, you would know what you were sorry for. What are you being punished for? One more chance." You said, smoothing over the plains of his ass. "For being a naughty boy who doesn't listen and rubs his cock on mommy too much." He said. "So close, baby!" You said as you brought down one last smack to his ass as his cock leaked precum all over your legs. "You were getting punished because you don't listen and because you were being really naughty at work, sweetheart. But you took punishment so well, so you deserve a treat." You said as you flipped him over, making sure he was laying in a comfortable place on the bed.

"C-can we match?" He said, pulling on your sweater. You smiled down at him sweetly as you stripped, taking your time to let him gaze over the planes of your body. When you returned, you sat high up on his stomach, making sure he couldn't get any friction against you as you kissed him softly. He was still a little clunky when it came to kissing but when you took it slow, it helped him warm up to your motions until you two were completely in sync.

"Alright, so I'm going to do some new things. Let me know at any time if you aren't comfortable or you want me to stop." You said, and you turned so you were sitting on his chest, looking down at his cock, as he got a wonderful view of your ass and the dimples in your back as your muscles flexed. You collected some spit in your mouth and let it drip down slowly onto the head of his already overly excited cock. He hissed as your finger swirled in the spit that pooled at the base of his cock as you wet your hand before grasping his length. Even though he had felt this exact same thing yesterday, he could never get over the sensation of your hand squeezing around him, circling his cock, and playing with the tip with your thumb. You spit into your other hand and wrapped both hands around his length, working them up and down his shaft, gently twisting and squeezing. The best part was that he couldn’t see anything you were doing. It was like he was blindfolded, stomach muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch.

"Fuck baby I'm close." And that was when you stopped. right as he was about to cum, you squeezed down hard at the base of his cock. "You don't cum until I do." You said, scooting your core back so that it was a couple tantalizing inches away from his face. "Really? You'll let me eat you out? For real?" He asked, mind blown at the idea of eating you out. "I was hoping you would." You replied, waiting for him to make a decision. He hooked your arms around your thighs and pulled you into him so hard, you were worried he broke his nose at first. 'I need a man who eats pussy like it's the only way to quench his thirst' rung out in his head. That's what you had written in your journal titled "Male needs" and he wanted to be a Male that you needed, so that's what he did. He flattened his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your folds, and back down to your clit, latching on hungrily, alternating between sucking hard and twirling his tongue on it. "H-Holy shit Spencer." You moaned, and you knew you wouldn't last long. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were soaking wet just from teasing and punishing him. That, coupled with how sweet his tongue was on your core, and you were done for. You certainly had never had a man eat you out like this, much less a virgin. "Shit baby, you're so good? How did you get so good?" You asked incredulously, as he reached his hand back around and inserted a finger between your folds, giving his mouth a short break. "I read the literature and from what I saw, the g spot should be about here." He said before curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to moan deeply. His smirking mouth found its way back to your clit as he added another finger, working your g spot with feverish strokes.

"Fuck, baby! I'm cumming!" You shouted and right as you were reaching your peak, he stopped everything. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelped at him, your mounting peak now decrescendoing before ever hitting the climax. "I thought we were matching. You're edging me, I'm edging you." He said innocently, but you could hear his smirk tinging his words. "You just want to be punished huh?" You said and squeezed down on his base as you kissed the tip of his cock. "Naughty boys don't get proper head. When you make me cum, then I'll actually suck your cock. Got it?" You asked as he bucked his hips"Yes." He replied fervently.

This was his first-ever experience getting head, so of course, you were going to give him a good time. He would just have to wait. You held down at the base of his aching cock as you lazily sucked and licked the head. Not even close to the usual effort you would put in, but it was enough to make his legs shake and finger you faster. His mouth was too busy panting and whining to eat you out but you were fine with that because the way he was curling his fingers was creating a knot in your stomach and you could feel your impending release. "Fuck baby I'm cumming. Let me cum this time." You said and he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking hard as he used all of his willpower to keep himself from cumming. And just like that, you're cumming all down his face and fingers as you shake but he keeps going, this time with more enthusiasm, riding you through your orgasm and overstimulating you. You eagerly take him into your mouth all the way, sucking hard, lathering his length with your spit, and in two seconds he is cumming hard down your throat. "Mommy I'm cumming" He said a little too late as you had already swallowed around him.

You were both so caught in the afterglow that you just kept going. Aftershock spurts of cum kept shooting down your throat but you kept sucking. You wanted him needy and wrecked under you. "Oh my god! ah! AH!" He said, shaking as you keep sucking him down. He keeps finger fucking you as if he is possessed. You are both riding your highs and are so overstimulated that in no more than a minute you are both cumming all over again as sobs wrack your bodies.

You flop down next to Spencer and kiss his cheek tentatively, knowing most men don't kiss after head. Spencer leans up, kissing you passionately, tangling his tongue in yours, tasting your release on each other's tongues. "Flip over baby," You said as he rolled over. You pulled out your lotion from your bedside table, gently warming up a small amount in your hands before spreading it on his butt. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too tired to take a shower tonight. I'm just going to put our leftovers in the fridge and brush my teeth. I have some spare toothbrushes if you would like to borrow one, and some pajamas." You said to a very sleepy Spencer. He didn’t even say anything, he just grumbled and got up, leaning on you.

He helped you clean up, both still naked, enjoying the domesticity of just walking around completely vulnerable together. You needed to brush his teeth for him as he sat on the toilet lid and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a little baby, barely clinging to the little energy it had before a nap. You got him up and back in bed, looking down at his naked form, now noticing the gentle matching bruises on either side of his body. “I know you like to match but take care of yourself. Don’t bang yourself up so much. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said as you picked his clothes off of the floor. You reached down for your pajamas but before you could get them back on or pull him into his, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down on top of him."I’ll try to stop. Only for you, and only because you asked so nicely. Right now, I’m too sleepy, let's sleep naked. Night night." He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Warmth enveloped your body at his words, “only for you.” Somehow that was all it took to finally give in to sleep's welcoming grasp, reveling in the warmth shared between your skin.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

And there we go, that's chapter five! Make sure to give me any comments, criticisms, or ways to better the plot. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to balance out the sweet and spicy aspects of this one. I hope you guys have a great night!

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