#also yes it’s very late you all tagged me on Sunday night when I was busy LOL

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Let Me Take Care of You

Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader

Summary: I couldn't stop thinking about how that man needed someone to take care of him after such a long day. And I know how much he cares about his fans. He was so kind but toward the end, everybody was rushed, and I have no doubt he wished he could have taken more time. So, fic idea popped into my head because...yeah, he looked so damn good on Sunday. You're dating Joe and after the chaos of the day, you just want to help your man.

18+ only

The hotel room door opened and in came Joe, looking absolutely drained and exhausted. It had been a whirlwind of a weekend. The U.S. Embassy had misplaced his passport and he almost missed the con in Philly, disappointing thousands of fans. At the last minute, everything worked out, but he’d had to cram three days worth of autographs and photo ops into one day, showing up early and staying late. You’d offered to tag along but he’d insisted on you relaxing as you’d had a late flight the night before and he had his friend, Ollo, there to be by his side throughout the day. Joe was also nervous how his fans might treat you if they found out he was seeing someone. The two of you had kept it under wraps the last few months when you’d seen how some of the fandom had treated Grace. It was awful that someone so sweet had to deal with that kind of toxicity. 

You knew Ollo would take care of Joe, making sure he hydrated, got something to eat, and at least got a couple of smoke breaks to keep his nerves steady. But that didn’t stop you from worrying all day. You’d been checking your phone, seeing all the photos people were posting. It hadn’t gone without notice that as the day wore on, Joe’s smile wasn’t quite as wide, those eyes weren’t quite as soft as usual. 

You set your phone down, sitting up as he let out a large sigh, dropping onto the edge of the bed in front of you. You gripped the leather jacket in your hands, sliding it down his arms and tossing it onto the chair in the corner. Using your fingers, you kneaded the tense muscles of his shoulders, relishing the pleased groan he released. Your fingers continued, moving along his back and you rested your chin gently on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. Joe’s hand came to cradle your cheek, his thumb running over your jaw. 

“Long day, baby?” you asked.

“The longest,” he answered. “We managed to get everyone done but as the day wore on, they were making me rush. I felt so bad because I couldn’t chat with people or do the poses they wanted. They were telling people no hugs. I feel like they left disappointed.”

“Oh Joe, no,” you assured him, your thumb pressing into a tight knot you felt in his low back. “Your fans understand. I saw so many of the posts today and they were so grateful they had the chance to see you, that you managed to make it even if it was for one day. They understood. None of this was your fault. It sucks that you had to rush people but if you didn’t, everyone might not have gotten their chance to see you.”

“I know, darling. I just hate feeling like I didn’t give them a great experience. And it was such a long day…”

“Did you get a lunch break?”

“Yes, I did,” Joe chuckled, tilting his head, resting it against yours. “I ate, love, no worries. Ollo kept checking in on how much water I was drinking. I got three smoke breaks. It was just a lot. The panel actually felt like a break. I got to sit on a couch and have a good chat. They asked about the Kas theory again.”

You laughed, “Of course they did. Your fans want you back for season five badly. I’m sorry it was such a long day. I know this isn’t how you wanted it, but I am glad Ollo took care of you. Him and I would be having words if not.”

“I have no doubt, my sweet girl. Everyone took very good care of me today.”

“Mmm…well, maybe, but I haven’t had my turn.”

“You’re taking care of me right now,” Joe insisted. “Thank you for the back rub. Standing on that concrete was killer by the end of the day.”

“Oh, I think I can do more than that. My poor boy needs to relax,” you crooned, winding your arms around him, pulling him until he was lying back on the bed. You straddled him, your knees cradling his thighs. “Let me help you relax.”

Joe’s eyebrows raised, a smirk appearing on those sweet, full lips, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bringing your lips to his. 

His arms locked around you, crushing your body against his. Your tongue slid along his bottom lip and he caught it with his lips, gently sucking before slipping his tongue along yours, eliciting a gentle moan. You rocked your hips, rubbing your core along his length, your tongue exploring his mouth, loving the sounds of pleasure that rumbled up from his chest. 

“Let’s lose this shirt,” you whispered, sitting up and pulling the plain black tee over his head, tossing it across the room. 

“And what about your shirt?”

“This isn’t about me right now,” you grinned, your lips tracing the line of his jaw, down the side of his neck. Jesus, he smelled like heaven. “I'm taking care of you, remember?” Your lips continued their path, over his collarbone, nipping gently, his hips thrusting up into yours, creating delicious friction against your already pulsing center. 

“Seeing your tits would take care of me. Nothing makes me happier than your jubblies smothering my face.”

“Uh-uh…not yet, my beautiful boy. You just lay back and relax. Let me do all the work tonight.”

You placed open mouthed kisses over his chest, teeth grazing over his nipples. His hand cradled the back of your neck, a low growl falling from his lips. As your tongue flicked over one nipple and then the other, your fingers worked his belt and then the button on his jeans. You continued to slide down his body, placing your feet on the floor. Your tongue followed a path over his abdomen, following the trail of coarse hairs that led right where you intended to go as you gripped his jeans and boxers at the same time, dragging them down his legs and over his feet until he was completely bare to you, his cock standing at attention, pre-cum glistening along the tip. 

Kneeling down in between his legs, you gently raked your nails over his thighs and his hips rolled towards you in response, his body letting you know exactly what he needed. Your tongue darted out, capturing the salty release that had already collected. 

“Fuck, darling…” he hissed. “Don’t tease. Please.”

“No worries, baby. I am going to help ease all your stress.”

You wrapped your lips around him, working his length, taking as much of him as your throat would allow. He grunted deeply, one hand tangling in your hair as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock scratching the back of your throat. Wrapping your hand around the base, you moved along him, using your mouth and hand, pleasure shooting to your core as you listened to this beautiful man coming undone because of what you were doing to him. 

Sometimes you pinched yourself because you could not believe he was all yours. But here he was, completely at your mercy, groaning, gasping, writhing, and you were the cause of it. You were the one who could help him, who could ease his stress, who could make him feel good. It was a goddamn high. 

“Bloody hell…so sodding good…don’t stop, love…just like that…” he panted. 

Your other came up to cradle his balls, rolling them along your palm like a pair of dice. Joe growled low, the hand in your hair tightening, pulling, his other hand slamming down against the mattress. Your tongue ran along each side of his cock before taking him fully in your mouth again as you tugged down gently on his balls, squeezing them gently, applying just the right amount of pressure. 

“Fuck!” Joe shrieked, bucking up into your mouth as he held your face tightly against him, his release flooding your mouth. His entire body shook beneath you as he went rigid, helpless grunts and moans rolling out of him. 

As he relaxed, you carefully released him from your mouth, swallowing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Standing, you smiled down at him, holding his eyes with yours as you slowly removed your shirt, followed by your shorts and panties until you were naked in front of him. Joe’s eyes traveled the length of you, devouring you with his gaze, sending a shock of desire straight to your center, pulsing with need. 

You crawled over the top of his body and his hands immediately fell upon you, roaming over your sides, your hips, the curves of your breasts. He grabbed your hips, sliding you up his body until your breasts were directly over his face and then he buried himself between them, deeply moaning, his hands pressing them together against his face. 

“Fuck, I love these tits,” he sighed, his mouth exploring every inch, tongue and teeth teasing your nipples into hard little buds. 

“Joe,” you breathed, sliding your wetness over his cock until it was hard, ready to go once again. The feel of his erection pressing against your clit had you whimpering, eager for him to fill you. 

His hand slid between your bodies, his thumb moving over your clit and you gasped, back arching as you pressed your hands against his chest, sitting up. Joe started with slow circles, moving faster and faster until you were gasping for breath. 

“So wet already, darling and I barely did anything for you.”

“Taking care of you works me up,” you breathed, struggling to speak against the intense pleasure coursing through your body as his circles grew smaller, focusing right on your pleasure button. “The way you sound…knowing I can do that…it’s so damn hot. Fuck, I need your cock.”

Reaching between you, you grabbed his cock, lowering yourself onto him slowly until your pelvises were flush together. The two of you moaned simultaneously as you began to slowly rotate your hips in a circle, his cock hitting all the right places that had your stomach tensing, already so close as his thumb continued working magic on you.

“Shit, darling…that’s so good,” Joe praised. “I love watching you ride me.” His free hand caressed your face, thumb running over your lower lip and you caught it between your lips, sucking it into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You sighed, releasing his thumb as you rocked back and forth, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as you picked up the pace. Joe’s chest rose and fell heavily as he quickly raced toward another climax, his cock twitching within you as you rolled over him. His thumb began moving back and forth, faster over your clit, and you knew he was determined to get you to cum before he did. 

“Come on, my beautiful girl,” he urged, one hand now gripping your hip as he moved with you. “Cum for me, darling. Let me see how fucking beautiful you are when you let go.”

“Joe…I…fuck!” you cried, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as you shuddered on him, your climax crashing over you. 

“That’s it…yes, love,” he grunted, gripping both of your hips, thrusting up into you hard, taking over as you lost all control, moaning his name over and over. Joe’s fingertips dug into your flesh as he held you against him, filling you with his release. “Jesus Christ, darling…” He sighed, falling back on the bed. 

You fell forward onto his chest, nuzzling his neck, “Do you feel more relaxed, beautiful boy?”

“So relaxed,” he murmured sleepily. “Fuck, you took everything out of me, love.” His arms wrapped around you and his lips pressed against your forehead. “I am going to sleep like a goddamn baby.”

“Good,” you replied, kissing his shoulder. “I’ll clean us up and tuck you all in.”

You went into the bathroom, getting a warm washcloth that you used to clean the two of you. Joe laid still, eyes closed, breathing deep as you gently wiped him. You tossed the washcloth back in the bathroom and then had to work to get him turned in the bed the right way as he was not much help. Your poor boy was so damn tired. 

Laying down next to him, you pulled the blanket over both of you and he whimpered softly in his sleepy state, hands reaching out for you. Joe was a cuddler, always the big spoon. Smiling, you slid toward him with your back to him, those strong arms encasing you, pressing you against his chest, wrapping himself around your body. You sighed happily, burrowing into his arms, inhaling the soothing scent of your favorite person on this planet. 

“I love you,” you whispered. “Good night.”

“Mmm…love you…” he mumbled. “Night love.”

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn smut #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you

[blackberrysummerblog]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag @captain-aralias! And thank you so much @aristocratic-otter, @shrekgogurt and @thehoneyedhufflepuff for tagging me on Wednesday. I’ve been a little down on myself this week for not getting more writing done, and I hate that I haven’t completed anything in a good month and a half. I guess that’s not true, I did manage to get my erotic gropefest entry in under the wire, I just haven’t been able to look at it since, lol. Anyway, no one wants to hear me whine.

I’d kind of like to talk about the crucible-marriage AU I keep posting bits from, but I doubt anyone needs to hear about my struggles with that either. The process has been very different from how I usually write, so maybe thinking out loud about it would help get me past the couple of issues I’m having and/or help me finish it, but I don’t know. I’ll hold off on unloading about it for now. In the meantime, so. No new writing to speak of, so I’m posting a little bit from earlier in the fic. It’s more than six sentences, sorry 😑 Simon discovered the Pitch’s pool and is gung-ho to get in, even though he can’t swim.

It’s true, the pool is well hidden, even from most of the house. You’d have to be looking out from the upstairs windows to make it out at all, and even then it’s fairly well obscured. It would be impossible to see if someone were skinny-dipping late at night, with the lights out…I cough, adjusting myself in my trunks. That line of thinking can only make things worse. I emerge from my own stall at the same moment that Simon thunders out of his, head and wings trapped inside his t-shirt. “Fucking hell!” he exclaims furiously.

I bite my lip. His legs and chest aren’t as pale as mine, but they’re a few shades lighter than his golden face and forearms. Simon’s thighs are thick and muscular, his shoulders and chest broad, but there’s just the faintest hint of pudge above the waistband of his trunks; Crowley, I would die for him. His curls are bouncing wildly over the top of the shirt’s neckhole as he careens from one side of the changing room to the next. Laughing, I grab him by the waist. “Snow! Breathe.”

He lifts his arms up and growls at me through thin white cotton. I pat where I think his cheek is and then stroke his shoulders. “Surely you get out of your shirts every night without help,” I say.

He struggles a moment, then stops once more. “I got overexcited,” he mumbles in an embarrassed voice. “I think one of my spikes is hooked in the cloth.”

“Let me check.” Fuck me, Simon Snow’s arse should be illegal. Not only is his decidedly bubble-shaped backside done every favor in the world by snug swim trunks, but said trunks are also resting low on his hips to let his tail swing loose. It coils firmly around my calf as I begin inspecting the lumpy, spiky heap of rucked-up cotton on his back. “Yes…here. I think I have it. Calm down and stay still, please.” Against my expectations, Snow actually does as I ask, though his tail does tighten its grip while I pick his wings free from the t-shirt. “There we go!”

Simon glances back at me sheepishly after pulling the shirt off. “Thanks, Baz.”

“Mm.” I rest my palm between his wings, feeling the taut muscles he must need to achieve flight. “You’re welcome, Snow.”

He turns toward me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him as though he were made of fire. At this angle, he has to tip his chin up to look into my face, and I trace the underside of his lower lip with the pad of my thumb. His eyes flutter closed. ‘Baz…” he whispers.

“So,” I say, breaking away and digging through a bin by the door. “Water wings.” Snow recoils when I hold up a pair of bright yellow arm bands. I’m certain the vests we have wouldn’t fit his broad shoulders, never mind his very real wings. “Don’t give me that face; I’ll teach you how to swim!”

He fights me, and in the end the water wings prove sized only for the spindly arms of my young sisters, so Simon escapes through the poolhouse door, brimming with laughter and ready to sink.

Edited: I have literally no idea why tumblr keeps cutting off the parts of my posts where I write something after the snippet. I’m sorry I didn’t tag anyone, but I really do love reading/seeing everything you all post! It’s a bright spot in my day ❤️

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #six sentence sunday #wip wednesday #really dragging my ass with writing these days #blah #crucible marriage au #crucible au

[hello-eeveev]

tagged by @quinn-of-aebradore (and I was tagged in a very similar thing by @spottedenchants a bit ago but didn’t get around to it before this, so I hope you don’t mind me combining them!) thank you :D

Last song I listened to: “Sometime We’ll Understand” from the Lamb of God Easter oratorio by Rob Gardner. With the season and driving by a bunch of churches with Easter signs, I got real nostalgic for Easter music because there are so many great pieces. And Lamb of God holds a lot of memories for me because my dad was the lead cellist for the local production for several years, and I even got to take part one year. And it is just soooo musically tasty and I was just filled with energy listening to it yesterday. The CHOIR, the SOLOISTS, the SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA!!! If you remember me expressing my love for French horns a few weeks ago, Lamb of God played no small part in establishing this opinion. If you don’t mind Christian hymns, I highly recommend checking it out, and all of Rob Gardner’s work because he is truly one of the goats.

Last book I read: I’ve kinda started and stopped a few books recently, not for any particular reason just… idk. So instead I’m gonna plug a fic I’ve been keeping up with that published its final chapter last night: Judgement & Justice! It is such a fascinating and engaging work that explores the details of legally condemning Ikithon, the ways that the law can fail anyone, how even doing something you believe is right can be incredibly traumatizing. As one of the tags says, “the mundane horrors of the criminal justice system”. So good. I highly recommend.

Last film I watched: ummmm, yesterday I saw like 30 minutes of Wish after the school field trip bc the teacher was so kind and said, “nope. interpreters are out of commission. we’re watching a movie.” The music didn’t appeal to me too much, which sucks bc I LOVE Ariana DeBose’s voice. But I will say that the special effect art was sick and some of the character designs are cute!

Last TV series: uhhhh idk I watch a lot of YouTube. Drawfee, Zelda randomizers, that kinda stuff. and critrole obv lol :)

Last thing I googled: “peafowl”. I love birds and will infodump about them and I wanted to show my coworker how different peahens are to peacocks, and most people have no idea they’re called anything but peacocks.

Last thing I ate: ritz crackers and nutella. It’s a combination I wouldn’t have put together of my own accord, but in eighth grade, my friend brought some into history class and convinced me to try it and I’ve been sold ever since.

Sweet, savory, or spicy: Yes. However, savory and spicy go well together, but sweet doesn’t go with either. I have a massive sweet tooth and my mom raised me to have high standards for desserts, so when I have sweets, I want them to be to my taste. I like spicy food and I have a decent spice tolerance. It used to be higher but either adulthood or my anxiety meds reduced it rip :’(

Amount of sleep: ummmm about 6 hours? I should probably be getting more, but unfortunately sleep is boring.

Currently reading: The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner. I’m about halfway through, and it’s pretty enjoyable, but I hear it’s got a good twist later on so I’m excited.

currently obsessed with: you know it’s shadowgast lol. but more specifically I’m still in my How to Rest brainrot. I have a break next week, so I want to get the chapter 6 director’s commentary done and start working on the coda fic bc hnnngggghgg soft wizards.

I’m also obsessed with my cat. She’s turning 6 on Sunday and she’s been so snuggly lately! Look at her!!!

I always feel so awkward about tagging bc I never know who’s already been tagged, so if you want to do this, you are fully allowed to say that I tagged you 💕

#eve talks #kiki posting

[innytoes]

3 sentence prompt! Bullriding au reggie ship of your choice! (Saw that vid you RBed and couldn’t resist)

(Listen this video is inspired and we all deserve to see Reggie doing it. Special thanks to @anotherfantom who created this AU in their tags and then let me spitball about it for a few hours.)

Reggie's move to the Big City hadn't really been planned. The plan had been to stay in town and help Meemaw and Pops on the farm and save up for college. But well, after he and the Johnson boy were caught making out in the Johnson's hayloft, it had been strongly suggested to Meemaw that maybe Reggie get out of town.

(He'd heard later that Johnny Johnson had sworn up and down it had been a one-time, drunken mistake. He'd enrolled in the army the next day, disappearing almost as fast as Reggie had. He wasn't sure what stung more: the denial of all the sweet words whispered in the dead of night, or the fact that Johnny was throwing his life away in the exact way he'd admitted to Reggie he'd been afraid of. And for what?)

He'd been so lonely those first weeks. Getting a low-paying job (or several) hadn't been particularly hard. He made enough to rent out some nice old lady's attic. She thought his 'yes ma'ams' and country accent were charming. And every week, after her Sunday dinner with her family, Reggie would come home from his late shift at the gas station to find a bunch of leftovers in the fridge with his name on it.

He actually found the place through his second job as a delivery driver. When he drove onto the street with all the rainbow flags, it felt like something of a dream. He was already making plans to go back as soon as he had a night off, but then he stepped in the door.

It was like something out of Reggie's dreams: a country themed gay bar. Wood floors, wood paneling, a big wooden bar with leather-covered stools. And in the middle of the room, opposite of a beautiful dance floor, was a giant mechanical bull.

With an incredibly attractive man, well, riding it. Slowly, sensually, rocking his hips in time with the movements of the bull and the music. And all Reggie could do was stand and gape, clutching the package in his hands.

"Can I help you?" A voice from behind the bar called. "We don't actually open until six..."

"Oh!" Reggie flinched. "Um, package for a Caleb Covington?" He turned to the bartender, who was also unfairly handsome. He had kind eyes and he looked very... firm under that denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and oh god, he was glad the bar didn't have many lights on, so maybe his blush wouldn't be so obvious.

The handsome bartender smiled and nodded over to the bull. "That's that show-off over there. Caleb! Package for you!" The man dismounted the bull in a fluent and mind-searingly hot move, and sauntered over. He looked Reggie up and down, and Reggie really wished the delivery uniform wasn't a pair of dorky shorts and a polo.

"I'll sign for that," Caleb said, and was Reggie just imagining it, or did it sound like he didn't mean the package?

So of course, after that, the second he had a night off, he went back. And again. And again, until he was recognised as a regular by all the other regulars. And of course, by Caleb and Ray.

His normal Wednesday night off was a pretty chill time at the bar. Which suited Reggie just fine, because when things were slow, Caleb wouldn't just do his scheduled show, he'd sometimes get on the bull just to show off.

And of course Reggie had to master the bull as well. He was pretty good at the fast settings they had, where the goal was to stay on as long as possible. He was actually number four on the board now, and he'd won a sparkly cowboy hat for making it into the top ten. But the slow setting... well, he was getting there. And it had lead to a lot of free drinks.

Except there were really only two people he really hoped would notice him. And they did. There were a lot of lingering looks and even some touches. Ray always let him in early, let him practice on the bull without paying, watched him with intense eyes from behind the bar. Caleb gave him all kinds of pointers, showing him how to move his body. That time Caleb joined him on the bull, Reggie nearly creamed his pants, it was so hot.

But neither of them made a move, and Reggie wasn't about to go wreck their marriage or anything. Flirting was one thing, but actually trying to kiss one of them? Ask them out? What if they got offended and said no? This place was the closest thing he had to home, to a community. He couldn't mess that up.

He was sulking his way through his third free coca-cola of the night (Ray was always very kind about telling people Reggie didn't drink, refusing to serve him anything he wasn't comfortable with. Instead of cocktails, he got a lot of free cokes, or sometimes even some bar nachos), watching Caleb on the mechanical bull, when another regular dropped a bombshell.

"What do you mean, wreck their marriage?" Fuego asked him. "Ray and Caleb aren't married. They dated like ten years ago, decided they'd be better off as friends, and that was that."

"But they-"

"Sound exactly like an old married couple?" Dante, Fuego's husband finished for him. Reggie nodded. Even when they bickered, there was an undercurrent of affection that reminded Reggie of his Meemaw and Pops. "Yeah, they actually sound more like a couple now than they did when they were actually dating."

"Sooo," Reggie said slowly. "You think I have a shot?"

"Kid, the only reason either of them haven't ravished you behind the bar is because you always leave before closing," Dante said, laughing when Fuego smacked his shoulder.

Oh. He did usually leave around midnight because he had an early shift the next day.

Maybe tomorrow he could call in sick.

He knocked back the last of his coke like it was a shot, squared his shoulder, and sauntered back up to the bull, waiting for it to turn the right way to hop on, wrapping his legs over Caleb's to keep hold. The man looked surprised, yeah, but his hands immediately settled on Reggie's hips, leaning forward to keep his balance.

"Hi," Reggie said, cheekily stealing Caleb's cowboy hat and putting it on. The answering smirk was enough to nearly make him fall off the bull.

"Hello," Caleb said, tugging him closer.

Oh, he was definitely staying until after closing tonight.

#julie and the phantoms #fanfic #I wrote a thing #basically Ray and Caleb own the bar together and are in a QPR #and they agree to both date Reggie even though they're not dating each other #calebxreggie #rayxreggie #basically reggie starts dating Caleb and then Caleb realises he and Ray are still pining and is like: you know you and Ray would be great #and Reggie is all hurt like: are you breaking up with me??? #and Caleb is like: no but I won't say no to sharing. I'm not the jealous type #so Reggie gets two boyfriends and all is well in the world #For extra bonus points: reggie's fave song to ride the bull to is 'good lookin' by dixon dallas

[talkfastcal]

Okay so! I was tagged by Alison @bandsanitizer, TL @thenervousduck, and Aria @calumthoodshands !! Thank you ily 🤍🤍

The circles are artists I love, and the underlines are artists I have a couple of songs in my playlist but I don’t necessarily “listen” to them (I know I need to listen to paramore it’s already on my list of artists to listen to, as well as with blink)

Here’s mine!! It was very hard to pick just 16 (which is why I combined ot5 with their solo careers lol)

Okay! I’m tagging: @s0livagant @dreamboypeach @haloyoustole @glittertimes @mscalifornication and anybody else who wants to do this!

#this was so fun #also yes it’s very late you all tagged me on Sunday night when I was busy LOL #honestly I bet I could make another one with other artists but I won’t lmao #tag games #I’m cackling at btr and mcr being right by each other lmao

[babyboibucky]

Obvious

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.

Word Count: 1,700

Warnings: slight angst??? mention of injury???

A/N: Inspired by Ariana Grande’s “obvious” because I fucking love that song lmfao. Let me know if anyone wants to be included in my Bucky Barnes tag list! Will do separate tag lists for everything Bucky and Babysitting Bucky. Feedback is highly appreciated!

MAIN MASTERLIST

---

You and Bucky weren’t lovers, no. But you were definitely not just friends either.

There were kisses early in the morning, while both of you were cuddled in bed basking in the warmth of the sunlight spilling through the thin curtains; soft and subtle touches in the afternoon as the two of you navigated through the kitchen in an attempt to bake together. Slow touches late at night, cold metal fingers grazing you in just the right places that made you feel like on fire. And the exchange of whispers in the wee hours of night after coming down from the high of exploring each other’s bodies, uttered so softly, words meant only for each other to hear.

More than friends indeed, less than lovers? Maybe. Maybe not. Does it matter though? Because even without the words of affirmation, you loved Bucky and was sure that he loved you just as much.

Besides, you were obviously head over heels for the soldier. Not that you were denying or hiding it, in fact, you felt like you showed it a tad bit too much.

“Leaving so soon, soldier?” You’d asked with a pout as you watched Bucky leave your side on the bed.

“Duty calls.” He told you as he began to dress up.

Noticing your frown, he chuckled and approached you on the bed, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassured you, smoothening out the crease on your forehead with his thumb.

“But I wanna cook you dinner.” You told him.

The thought of you and Bucky spending a domesticated evening together always elated you. You loved daydreaming about it, about sharing a life with your super soldier. Him coming home after a mission and you making sure to take good care of him. Maybe run him a bath while you prepared dinner. Silly, it seemed but you couldn’t help imagining all the possibilities with Bucky. Letting him sleep in on Sundays while you go on a jog, only to come back home with pancakes and bacons waiting for you in the kitchen. And Bucky of course, fresh out of bed with his hair sticking up in different directions.

Being with an Avenger of course, made it difficult to experience all these things. Sometimes you’d wake up alone but Bucky always made sure to leave you a little note.

I’ll be back soon, beautiful.

His notes found a home in one of your drawers. There were plenty and although these notes symbolized his absence on most days, they also meant promises. Promises to make it up for the lost time, promises that were never broken nor forgotten.

Dinner dates were often postponed, sleepovers a rare occurrence— spending time together in general, wasn’t as easy as it was for other couples out there.

But that’s okay. Because you’d always wait for Bucky. You’d wait for him to come home and even if it’d take him three days, one week, two months or even a year, you’d still wait and welcome him with hugs and kisses and affectionate whispers.

Sometimes you wondered whether Bucky knew how much you loved him.

Disagreements were of course, unavoidable even between you and Bucky. Oftentimes, the arguments would stem from his carelessness and selfless decisions during missions. Your super soldier, always so giving and generous and kind. You couldn’t care less about what others thought of him and his days under the influence of monsters. The moment you knew you loved Bucky, you had already accepted him. And that included his demons and dark days too.

To you, Bucky had always been kind and put others first before himself. Sometimes a little too much that you couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t seem to care how you’d feel if ever he wouldn’t make it home.

If Sam hadn’t called you that night, you wouldn’t have known about the serious injury inflicted on Bucky while on a mission.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked as soon as you barged into the medical bay, ignoring the nurse who immediately scrambled out of the room.

Bucky laid in bed, bruised and wrecked and unable to respond upon seeing you seething with anger for the first time ever.

“Were you even planning to tell me in the first place?” You scoffed.

They needed to infiltrate another Hydra base. Raid the base, get all possible information and blow it up to ashes. But then Bucky found a secret basement at the very last minute, young women and men were kept— future Winter Soldiers. The serum hadn’t been injected into their systems yet, they were merely poor teenagers in captivity. Bucky knew he couldn’t let these young people suffer the same fate as him. With barely a minute left before the bomb was set to explode, Bucky did his best to save everyone in that basement.

Never mind the Falcon’s orders to abort his mission, never mind the back-up they had called for to help them out. Bucky knew the choices he had: walk away unscathed knowing that the back-up wouldn’t arrive in time to save the children, or stay behind and do his best to make sure that no one will become another toy for Hydra to play with.

Even if it meant risking his life, even if it meant leaving you back home unaware of his fate.

“They needed me. I couldn’t just leave them behind.” Bucky explained.

“And you didn’t think I needed you too?” You asked, eyes rimmed with tears.

God, you knew you were selfish for feeling hurt but you couldn’t help it. Did it not cross Bucky’s mind that if he had died, you’d be left behind too? Did you not cross his mind during that time?

“Look, I understand what the superhero life is all about. And I know that it’s fucking selfish of me to say this but...Bucky, I need you too. As much as the world does.”

It was a conversation that you and Bucky had many times now. But with how your love grew for him with each passing second, the thought of losing him, it had become too much for you to suppress.

Waking up without his little notes of reassurance that he’d be back soon, no more cold fingers tracing against the smooth expanse of your skin and having to sleep knowing that the next day, Bucky wouldn’t be there anymore— just the mere thought of losing him broke your heart.

“I can’t...” you breathed out, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Buck.” You admitted with a shaky sigh as your tears continued to fall.

Bucky wanted to get up and pull you to an embrace, but he was too injured to do so. How we wanted to kiss your tears away, all he could do was extend a hand towards you, inviting you to come closer and touch him.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I should have told you, I’m sorry. C’mere.”

Despite your anger, you didn’t think twice and immediately went to hold Bucky’s hand, squeezing it tightly as if you were trying to make sure that he was fine and real and that you didn’t lose him.

“Please stop being so reckless. With how much I love you, it drives me crazy whenever you come home all wounded and bloody and now—“

“You love me?”

Bucky had asked the question as if he couldn’t believe that yes, you do love him. Sam really wasn’t kidding when he said how dense Bucky was.

“Is it not obvious?” You asked, wiping away your tears.

“I mean yeah but...I just didn’t want to assume that you do because we never really talked about it.” He explained, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

His metal fingers, although cold and hard against your skin, had always been your favorite. They were gentle when they needed to be, or at least whenever Bucky touched you. They were cold and made you shiver but always in a good way.

“Bucky, I’ve talked about wanting a future with you. You still didn’t think that that was love?” There was a hint of playfulness in your tone despite your deadpan expression.

Oh no, what if you interpreted everything the wrong way?

“Do you not...oh my god, Bucky am I the only one in love?” You asked, panicked.

“Oh god, no.” Bucky immediately clarified as he pulled you to sit down on the bed beside him.

“I love you. So much. Please don’t think otherwise.” He said, cupping your face and wiping away the remnants of your tears.

A smile followed by a quick peck on the lips. Bucky moved and gave you enough space to lay down beside him on the hospital bed. Suddenly, everything felt right. Not that it wasn’t before but with the both of you finally uttering those words, it felt different.

The perfect kind of different.

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest and listened to his heartbeat as his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back. You can’t imagine a life without being this close to him, your super soldier.

“I thought of you, you know.” His chest rumbled as he spoke.

You lifted your head up to look at him in confusion. He smiled at you lovingly, “During the mission. Every mission I go to actually, I thought of you.”

Bucky thought about how you always waited for his return no matter how long he took. He imagined what you’d be doing when he’d come back, would you still be asleep? Perhaps you’d be in the shower, singing. Bucky thought about how he’d kiss you as soon as he comes home, how he’d make you feel how much he missed you and your scent, how your smooth skin felt against his.

Every single time, Bucky thought about coming home to you. It was his motivation to stay alive no matter what. He knew you needed him as much as the world does.

Because he needed you just the same.

More than friends, indeed. Less than lovers? No, you and Bucky were more than that.

You were each other’s worlds.

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

[thegirlonpeetamellark]

Everthorne Farms - Part 2 by Court81981

So I appreciate the response this little pumpkin patch/Scare Farm drabble got at Halloween, and while I didn't plan anything beyond that, listening to Taylor Swift's Christmas Tree Farm invited this little Part 2 to unfold in my head. It's edited hastily but I hope you enjoy. Thank you for all the continued support. There are more updates coming in the New Year, and yes, I hope 2022 is the year that sees CMP complete.  And El, thanks for putting up with me! Love you. to pieces. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all! XOXO Court

“Can you believe it’s snowing?” Prim dances past me and peers out the tiny window of the shed. “It’s never snowed on opening morning!”

“It’s just a few flurries, Little Duck. Nothing to get too excited about,” I reply as I check the hot chocolate and cider urns and make sure the extra package of cups is nearby. “This is all just about ready. You’ll be okay in here?”

Prim rolls her eyes at me. “None of the early arrivals ever even come inside. I think I’ll be fine.” I cross the shed and come to stand next to my sister, glancing out the window. I can see headlights near the start of the driveway, even thought we don’t officially open for another hour. I look across the lot to where Gale and some of our seasonal workers—mostly guys who go Panem High with Prim and me—are hauling the dollies and saws out of the garage.

The four weeks between Halloween and Thanksgiving are quiet at Everthorne Farms; the whole winter is, for the most part. But for a few weekends in late November and early December, we operate our Christmas tree farm, and Saturdays and Sundays are busy from open to close. The very first day people can come to tag and/or cut is the busiest, and that would be this morning.

The shed handle turns and Prim and I both jump back, a blast of icy air hitting us as our uncle Haymitch steps inside. A couple of snowflakes cling to the ends of his graying dirty blond hair.

“You girls ready to work?” He gives us his trademark smile, which is really more of a half scowl half smirk, and doesn’t wait for an answer before he thrusts a stack of tree tags at me. “Might as well start. There’s a decent line out there already. We’ll give it another 20 minutes, but once it reaches the main road I’m gonna let people in. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agree. I bump Prim’s hip and we exchange a smile. I grab my wool beanie and jam it down over my ears before taking the tree tags from Haymitch.

As I step outside the little shed, I pause to revel in the moment. The faint dusting of snow definitely adds to the mood. Prim is right; I can’t remember a time when we had any kind of snowfall on our first day. It’s not something we’d usually root for. A lot of snow would make most of the tasks related to cutting down trees more challenging, not to mention what it does to the roads our visitors need to travel on. But this gentle tumble of flakes won’t hurt anyone, and it’s so, so pretty.

“What does that guy think he’s doing?”

I nearly jump at the sound of Gale’s voice and I shake myself out of my reverie to turn to him. I hadn’t even heard him come up beside me. Our years of hunting have made us both fairly stealthy.

“What guy?” I ask. Gale jerks his chin in the direction of the road, where I see a vehicle coming up the other side of the driveway, completely ignoring the line. We have signs at the bottom of the driveway, since we use the right side to manage traffic flow as customers leave with their trees. Obviously, that’s not a concern at this hour, but it’s pretty audacious of someone to think they can bypass the line.

But as the vehicle nears, I realize I recognize it and my pulse quickens. I chide myself for the reaction, but my heart also seems to think it needs to join in, and it decides to rouse butterflies in my stomach.

Since Homecoming Night, when Peeta Mellark surprised me at the scare farm and asked me to dance with him under the stars, we’ve been spending a lot more time together, though hardly any of it has been outside of school. Just as my busy schedule calmed a bit, his exploded, between the start of the wrestling season and his hours at Mellarks’ Bakery. (It turns out I’m not the only one who has to toil at a family business, and Peeta explained to me that other than wedding season, the holidays are just plain crazy at the bakery.) Our relationship, if that is what you can call it, consists mostly of him waiting for me at my locker in the mornings and eating lunch together. We’ve had one date, to the movies. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t anxiously waiting for a second date. Or a kiss. So far, Peeta has been a perfect gentleman around me. It was only last week that he started knitting our fingers together when he walks me to my first period class.

“I think that’s Peeta’s Jeep,” I say. Gale’s face contorts in less-than-concealed disdain.

“So. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?” Gale repeats. I ignore him and start towards the Jeep. It comes to a stop and I can now clearly see that it is indeed Peeta behind the wheel. He hops out of the vehicle but leaves it idling.

“What are you doing here?” I ask and hope he doesn’t think it sounds accusatory. To be safe, I smile at him. (If things between us had progressed more maybe I could have greeted him with a kiss. Or maybe not, with half my family watching.)

He grins at me, though it’s laced with shyness, and then immediately moves for the rear driver’s door of his Jeep. A moment later, he approaches me, his arms laden with an enormous tray of cookies.

“I know it’s your opening day, so I thought maybe you’d like these. You told me about the hot chocolate and cider you put out for customers, but you didn’t mention any food.” He nods towards his Jeep. “There’re three more of these and a few trays of muffins.”

“You made these? For us? Peeta!” I exclaim, marveling at the rows of snowmen and snowflake cookies. “These look too pretty to eat.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” he says. “We already make hundreds of these for the bakery, so what was a couple dozen more.”

I shake my head, incredulous at his gesture. “Your parents were okay with you giving your inventory away?”

His grin morphs, turning a bit sheepish. “My dad said what my mom doesn’t know won’t kill our bottom line.” I grit my teeth and hope Peeta’s right. His mother is not someone I’d want to see angry. I’ve never gotten more than an icy glare from her when I’ve delivered fruit or pumpkins to Mellarks.

“You wanna show me where to put this one and then I’ll bring in all the others?” he asks.

“Oh! Yeah. I can grab one too.” I start towards his Jeep.

“It’s okay. I’ll get them. I know you’re busy. That’s quite a line already.”

“Opening Day is always like this. Everyone wants to be first into the fields, as if the absolute perfect tree won’t be there any later.” I wave an arm towards the acres and acres of trees. “Because as you can see, the selection sucks,” I joke.

“Yeah, it’s probably safe to say you won’t run out,” he replies.

“Well, we could,” I counter. “We only sell from a few designated areas each year, and yeah, we do have a set number that can go. It’s generous, but we have had years where we’ve sold out.”

I lead Peeta up to the little shed that serves as our headquarters for the tree farm, where most people pay for their trees (though many of our repeat customers just hand their cash right to Haymitch) and we offer the aforementioned hot cocoa and cider. There are also some ornaments and wreaths for sale. I glance over towards my uncle and instead find Gale’s arctic stare aimed at Peeta. I challenge him with my own frosty glower and he turns to mumble something to his brother Rory.

“Haymitch!” I call. “Peeta’s brought us cookies and muffins to put out with the cocoa and cider. There are more trays in his car if anyone wants to help.”

Haymitch nods and orders a few of our newer seasonal helpers—two guys who I think are sophomores but whose names I have yet to learn and Gale’s youngest brother Vick—to get the remaining trays from Peeta’s Jeep. I hold the shed door for Peeta and we trundle inside.

“Ohmygosh! What is this?” Prim jumps off the stool behind the register and comes over to peer at the tray.

“Hi, Primrose,” Peeta greets her. Prim’s face splits into a huge grin.

“You can call me Prim. Everyone does. Are those for us?” Prim gapes at the gorgeous cookies.

Peeta nods. “For your customers, actually, but you can definitely sneak one or two for yourself.” He winks at her, and I can see my little sister practically melting at his feet.

I motion to the table where the cocoa and cider are. “Let’s put them down over there.”

Once Peeta turns and walks across the shed, Prim arches her blonde brows at me and wiggles them suggestively. I shoot her a look of playful admonishment and move to help Peeta get the cookies set out. Vick and the other guys cart in the remaining trays and Prim and I help Peeta arrange the muffins alongside the cookies. We leave most of the trays covered, since Prim says she can manage replenishing the treats as they dwindle.

“This was so nice of you, Peeta!” she gushes. Her gaze flits from muffin to muffin until it lands on one. “Are these all different?”

Peeta glances over at me, and he rubs at the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah. Well, sort of. There’s some cranberry, spiced rum, and gingerbread. Those are our holiday flavors, so I figured they were best to bring.”

“You really went through a lot of extra work for us,” I say. Peeta’s cheeks, already pink from the cold, flush darker.

“It’s no trouble at all. Not for you, Katniss.”

And now my cheeks are probably fast on their way to matching his. I respond with a smile as I try to get the butterflies flapping around in my stomach under control.

Prim plucks a muffin from the tray and peels back the wrapper. Her eyes close as she raises the muffin to her mouth inhales deeply before biting into it.

“So good,” she moans after she swallows her first bite. She opens her eyes and thrusts the muffin at me. “Try it, Katniss. It’s soooooo good.”

I can’t very say no, not given how kind Peeta’s gesture is, so I accept the proffered muffin and take a small bite, aware of Peeta’s expectant gaze on me. His eyes drop to my mouth as I chew and fight to contain my own moan. Good is an understatement. It’s delicious. Moist, and sweet but not overly so. Just the right traces of nutmeg and cinnamon and cloves to complement the ginger flavor.

“Peeta, this is amazing,” I praise, and the smile he rewards me with is so effusive that those damn butterflies start swarming again.

“Katniss!” Gale barks from the doorway. “Haymitch said he gave you the tree tags.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve got them,” I reply, patting my coat pocket.

“Then start using them. The line’s reached the main road and we need to start surveying who’s tagging and who’s cutting.” He slams the shed door behind him. I aim daggers at where Gale just stood, annoyed by his bossier-than-usual-and-overtly-icy tone.

“I should let you get to work,” Peeta says quietly.

“Yeah,” I say. As we head towards the door, Prim calls out, “Watch out for the mistletoe!”

Peeta’s gaze wanders up to the rafters, where a cluster of mistletoe is suspended just above the shed door. He looks back to me, a nervous and slightly embarrassed smile lifting his lips. “After you,” he says, as he opens the door, careful to stand back out of the path of the mistletoe. My mouth twitches and I can only nod at him. Not that I want my first kiss to be out of some stupid holiday legend/obligation, or with my sister as witness, but there is a thread of disappointment that unspools in my gut and strangles those damn butterflies into submission.

“Wow, the line is long,” Peeta remarks as we trudge across the lot. “I don’t know if I can wait in that.”

“What do you mean?”

He looks over to his Jeep. “I mean…I brought my car and not the delivery van because…I, uh, convinced my parents to get a live tree this year and I didn’t know how easily it would tie to the roof of the van. But I guess I didn’t consider the line would be that long, and I am supposed to be at the bakery til noon. Working,” he adds. “I’m technically on the clock now.”

“You want a tree?” I ask, incredulous.

“Yeah. Is that ok?”

“Of course it’s ok! And forget about that,” I add, gesturing to the line. “You get executive privilege. You only brought us cookies and muffins and…” I trail off, unsure if I should actually utter what is edging closer and closer to the tip of my tongue.

“And what?” he prompts. A few snowflakes settle on those mile-long eyelashes of his, and he blinks them away.

“And so you get to be first,” I finish, unable to bring myself to say “and because you’re my boyfriend.” I flash him a smile and order him to stay put while I sprint across the lot to hand the tree tags to Darius.

“You know what to do, right?” I ask. Before Darius can respond, Gale glowers at me.

“What’s stopping you from doing it?” he says, his stony glare fixed on Peeta.

“I’m taking Peeta out to get his tree. It’s the least we can do so he can get back to work.”

Gale mutters an obscenity under his breath, but I ignore him and confirm Darius is okay with going from car to car to ask if they’re tagging or cutting. He assures me it’s fine and with a wicked grin tells me to go back to my boyfriend. Hearing that word spoken aloud invites a smile to my lips and a whirl low in my belly.

So why couldn’t I say it to Peeta?

Pushing away the thought, I grab a saw from the big shed and a dolly and drag it towards Peeta.

“Ready?” I ask him. He looks at the large saw and then his eyes meet mine.

“You’re going to cut it down for me?”

I narrow my eyes at him and lift my chin. “Are you questioning my ability to do my job?”

He shakes his head vigorously, snowflakes flying off his Panem High Wrestling beanie. “No, no! You’re just…you’re…”

“I’m what?” I arch a brow at him.

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t get the trees onto the cars without help, but I can hold my own when it comes to sawing and loading. This helps.” I kick at the dolly. Peeta holds his hands up in supplication.

“Again, forget I said anything. I’d never doubt you, Katniss,” he says, emphasizing the latter part of his words as he stares deep into my eyes. I relax a little, exhaling. Peeta doesn’t have a mean bone in his body; I definitely overreacted. Typical me.

“C’mon. Lead the way.” He grins at me, and all the rest of the tension leaves my body. He’s so, so hot. Unfairly attractive, really.

I return his smile. “Okay.”

We start walking towards the front east field, our boots crunching on the frozen ground, the dolly bumping along behind me. Peeta slows his gait and glances behind us, then he looks off to his left.

“What?” I ask.

He motions towards one of the back fields. “Are you allowed to take from there?”

“Yeah. That one.” I point to the one farthest west on the property. “We didn’t cut from that section last year. But the trees are pretty big.”

“Our living room has a vaulted ceiling. I think I want a big tree. After all, this is the first live tree I’ve ever had.” His blue eyes shine with genuine excitement, and I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Then we’ll go back there.” I change course and we cross the main field. Peeta chatters as we walk, talking about how busy he expects the bakery to be this weekend and how he’s not sure he’ll get his paper for AP English done by midnight tomorrow night, and why our AP Bio teacher thinks it’s okay to give a major test on a Monday. I stay quiet, letting him dominate the conversation. Peeta’s a natural conversationalist; I am not, but I join in his lament about the biology test.

“Maybe we, ah, could study together,” I suggest.

“Really?! I mean, yes, yeah, definitely!” He grins at me, and despite the frigid temperature, I feel warm everywhere.

We reach the edge of the section where the largest trees are. Since this is his first live tree, I figure I should help him out a little, so I caution him to check for branches that are already brown or are sparse of needles, because those will not last as long as fully green trees once they’ve been chopped down and stuck into a tree holder. His eyes sweep over the rows and rows of trees and his grin turns almost giddy.

“These all look good to me. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, you can take as much time as you want to look,” I say, even though I know he said he needs to get back to the bakery, “and when you find something you like, just let me know.” He knits his brows and blows out a breath. The white puff hangs in the air for a moment before dissipating. Then he cranes his neck, looking back towards the lot, which isn’t fully visible from where we are. He glances back to me, smiles, and starts meandering between and around the trees. I keep a few paces behind him, content to let him study each tree he approaches. The snow continues to fall, though even more lightly than earlier; just a smattering of flakes here and there.

Peeta is pretty far into the field when I hear him say, “This is perfect.”

I glance at the tree he’s standing beside and gape at him. “Are you serious? That tree is like twelve feet tall and—” I lose my words when Peeta steps towards me and gently takes the handle of the dolly from me. He lowers it to the ground.

“Put down the saw,” he says gruffly. The tone of his voice has me immediately complying. My stomach does a swan dive as his gloved hands cup my jaw. “It’s perfect for me to do this,” he whispers. His cold nose brushes my cheek as he descends on my mouth and his lips nestle against mine. Almost immediately, he draws back and gazes at me expectantly. His right palm gently caresses my cheek. When I smile at him, my lips tingle.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for…” One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Well, you probably don’t want to know how long I’ve thought about kissing you.”

“Well.” I draw a shaky breath to get my emotions under control. “If you had kissed me that night at the scare farm you could have been doing it a lot more.”

He stares at me, his blue eyes probing. “I guess I’ve been overthinking it. I just wanted it to be perfect, since…yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for years.”

“So that’s what you meant by perfect?” I exclaim and motion to the enormous tree behind us. “You don’t want this tree? Do you even want a tree?”

He laughs. “Yes. I mean, yes I want a tree, but yeah, no, not that one. My mother would kill me. But this tree is the right size to make sure we had privacy. If I wanted an audience for our first kiss I would have kissed you under that mistletoe.

“And with the snow falling and everything,” he continues. “Well…I hope it was perfect for you.” He gives me a smile I feel right beneath my navel.

“As far as first kisses go, it was perfect, yes,” I reply.

“First kiss…with me…or…” he winces and trails off, then rubs at his jaw with his free hand. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”

“I don’t care,” I say. “First kiss ever.”  His blue eyes widen in shock, but I swear I see a tinge of pride flicker in them too.

“Really?” he asks, incredulous. “I’m…I’m your first kiss? I just assumed…” And again, he trails off.

“Assumed what?” I prompt.

He grimaces slightly. “You. Gale Hawthorne.”

“What!” I exclaim. “No. What. No. Gale and I are friends. Nothing more. I’ve never once thought about kissing Gale.”

Peeta presses his lips together, and he looks like he wants to say something, but he falls silent for a moment. “I’m really glad I could be your first kiss, then,” he says quietly.

“Me too.” I smile.

He leans down and his breath fans across my lips, a shock of warmth against the cold. “Can I be your second kiss too?”

In response, I loop my arms around his neck. “Yeah. And my third and my fourth…” I say, before I crush my mouth to his.

#everlark #thg #court81981 #everlark fanfiction

[hyunjilicious]

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 3

A/n: I know it took me ages, and I'm sorry, but it's finally here!! I don't know when part 4 will be up, but I know the plot, and by the time you finish reading this, you'll know it too!! Filth is coming. Also, since I posted the first 2 parts weeks ago, under the cut you'll find a small summary of what happened so far! Ofc, I'm linking the previous parts as well! Have fun reading, sorry for taking me so long, and please, don't hesitate to tell me what you thought! (I’ll reblog it with the taglist, otherwise it doesn’t show up in the tags!)

Summary: after Henry lost it during a fit of jealousy, he sneaked into your apartment, his actions having some very different repercussions from what he initially intended. SMUT 3.9k

Warnings: please be over 18!!! mentions of smut, masturbation (male receiving), sightly/some somnophilia, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry, cum play if you squint and ofc, mentions of filming and sharing pornographic material. 18+ please!!!!

You can find part 1 here and part 2 here!

Quick recap: Henry's crush on his very sweet and younger neighbour (you lol) grew into something else when you asked him for help with taking some pictures for your onlyfans account. Following this, your relationship reached a very teasing level, which prompted Henry to take matters into his own hands, even if that meant crossing some lines. So when he found out that you and a specific man from your past were on a voice call, he just had to know what exactly was being discussed. This jealousy fit had him using his spare key to enter your apartment and eavesdrop, and this is where chapter 2 ends. Have fun reading the next part!!!

“No” you sighed, waving your arms around, desperate to get your point across. But it was mostly useless, nothing even remotely decent would ever manage to penetrate Steve’s thick skull. He was a dumbass with a heart of gold, so you couldn’t even blame him for messing things up on purpose, you just learned the hard way not to take his advice under any circumstance. “No, Steve. I won’t do that. Not a chance!”

“Hun-” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as a smirk showed up on his lips, “When have I ever been wrong?”

“Really!?” you giggled and then sighed, “Listen, I gotta go to the bathroom and you’d better forget about this topic by the time I come back”

“Wait, wait. Ok, fine. Scratch that” Steve laughed, stopping you from getting up, “When have I ever been wrong on purpose?”

“Listen, I know you’re just trying to help” you smiled, “But I don’t think your experience in seducing girls with daddy issues benefits my situation in any kind of way”

“‘Course it does! I can give you some perspective!”

“Perspective on what?” you mocked, playfully frowning at him through the screen on your laptop, “You and Henry have nothing in common”

“The dick for one” Steve joked but when he saw you roll your eyes, he became serious, “I’m just tryin to help you hook up with the guy! That’s all”

“See!?” you laughed, already exasperated by the conversation, “I’m not trying to hook up with him, I want something more…”

Your sentence was cut short by the sound of a door closing. Your blood ran cold and your hands froze, eyes staring blankly into the camera.

“Y/n?” Steve asked with worry, “What’s wrong?”

“Wait here” you mumbled, pushing the laptop off of you and rushing to the door of your bedroom. You pressed your ear against it, and listened closely, the sound of a lock being turned chilling you to your bones. With shaky hands, you stumbled your way back to your bed, and looked into the camera, directly at a somewhat already worried Steve. “I gotta go-”

“Wait-” Steve tried to ask, “Are you-”

“Yeah, I’m fine, talk to you later” you hurriedly mumbled before ending the call. Your fingers flew across the screen of your phone, finding Henry’s name and pressing the green button in the blink of an eye.

And had he not been this utterly stupid and reckless, none of this would have happened. His impulsivity got the best of him, and panic rushed through his veins when he heard you were about to head to the bathroom. Pressure did him no good, and the first thing that came to mind at that point was to bolt out of there, knowing there was absolutely no way to explain what he was doing in your apartment. But his shaky hands were of no help, and the dexterity he earlier proved himself capable of was nowhere to be found. However, he didn’t care. He just stormed out, happy to finally breathe again as soon as he was out of your apartment - but when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he felt like dying all over again.

With your heart beating inside your throat, you grabbed your bedside lamp into your free hand, and curled yourself into a ball in the corner of your room, opposite to the door, the sound of the ongoing call being the only thing you heard over the loud buzz in your ears.

“Yeah?” Henry’s voice rang loudly when he finally answered, making you all but jump with fright.

Had you paid more attention, you’d have noticed he too sounded out of breath, but you were too out of it to tell. All you could think about was the psycho what was at your door.

“Henry-” you cried, voice shaky as the intake of air was no longer satisfying. You were hyperventilating, sweating from every pore, scared out of your mind.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice more stern now. “Y/n? Are you ok?”

“Yeah- yeah…” you said on autopilot, mind on standby. “No…” You whimpered, “Henry, can you- I think someone is trying to break into my house, I-”

“What!?” he gasped, “I’m sure no one-”

“Henry!” you cried into the phone, “Can you please look through your peephole? Please?”

He sounded confused, but you didn’t have to ask him twice. You heard a bit of shuffling before his voice reached your ears again, “There’s no one there, there’s no one at your door, you can relax”

“No-” you whimpered, unable to calm down, “Henry, please-!”

“I’m coming over right now,” he said.

“No! No, what if they’re still in the hallway?”

“There’s no one there, love” Henry tried to reassure you. When you heard him unlock the door of his apartment your heart stopped, but after that, everything was quiet. 

“Are you ok?” you muttered, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Yes, love. I’m fine” Henry lightly chuckled, “I’m at your door, can you open up?”

“No” you scoffed, “What if someone got in?”

“No one got in” he tried to explain, but your adrenaline soaked brain refused to comply.

“Henry, take the spare key I gave you” you suggested, “And grab a knife”

Seeing how affected and terrified you were, Henry didn’t argue with you anymore. In a matter of seconds, you heard the door of your apartment being unlocked, Henry assuring you through the phone that it was him. When he walked inside, you remained hidden in your spot. He checked the kitchen and the living room, coming up to finally enter the bedroom. When your eyes landed on his massive frame, you breathed out relieved and rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. There was no other place on Earth you felt as safe as you did when he was holding you.

“Shh, you’re ok, you’re good” Henry cooed, cradling you to his chest, “I got you, baby, ok? I’m here”

But there was no stopping you. You broke down entirely, holding onto him as your legs gave in, turning into a mess. Henry carried you to the bed, sitting you down and allowing you to calm down at your own pace.

“I’m here, ok?” he asked again, rubbing your back, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/n, you know that. You’re safe, I got you”

It was impossible to tell just how long it took you to fully calm down, but it was safe to say that it would have taken hours longer had Henry not been there with you. When you were finally able to properly breathe again and hold a conversation, you looked up at him, big doe eyes hoping to convince him without too much of a fuss. “Can you stay here with me, please? I can’t be alone right now”

With nothing but sympathy in his eyes, Henry leaned down and kissed your forehead, “Don’t you think it would be better if we went over to my place instead?”

“No” you shook your head, “And leave the apartment unattended? I don’t think that’s a good idea”

His heart broke. Being his usual, impulsive self, Henry managed to break you down and terrify you to your core. As much as he wanted to reassure you everything would be fine, he couldn’t. He couldn’t just tell you it was him who broke into your apartment in the middle of a jealousy breakdown. So, he settled for the second best option, and really, he couldn’t complain.

It was late in the afternoon on a Sunday, no locksmith on the clock. Seeing how you’d have to wait until the next morning, he was more than happy to spend that time with you.

As time started to pass, you also started to relax. 

The day slowly wilted a way, as both you and Henry made yourselves busy around your apartment. He wasted a couple of hours installing games on your school laptop as you took a bath, he then cooked you dinner, and by the time the night rolled around, you were your usual bubbly self again. And after watching and laughing your hearts out at Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets, sleep started to creep up on you.

Henry placed one of your kitchen chairs under the doorknob before turning to give you a massive hug, “No one can get in, darling. I promise”

“Thank god you live across the hall” you confessed, snaking your arms under his hoodie as you gathered yourself as close to him as possible. “What would I have done otherwise?”

“You don’t have to worry about that” Henry kissed your forehead, “I’ll always be here when you need me”

And in that moment, right there, stopping yourself from kissing him turned out to be the most difficult thing you ever had to do. Instead, you settled for his cheek, before hiding your face against his shoulder. “I’ll always be here for you too”

“Thank you, angel” Henry breathed out.

There really was nothing on this earth you loved more than this man. 

Getting ready to go to sleep, you changed in your pajamas, while all Henry did was take off his hoodie. With your toothbrush lodged between your teeth, you lingered in the door frame, watching the muscles of his back flex as he bent down and put his phone down to charge.

Toothpaste and drool could very well have dribbled down your chin as you stood and gawked, only releasing you were staring when Henry turned around and a smile made its way up his lips. “Yes?” he laughed, but all you did was look him up and down, before returning to the bathroom with a shake of your head.

“Oh, Y/n?” Henry called again, following you, “Where can I find a blanket or some sheets?”

First you squinted, but then you decided it would be best if you just finished brushing your teeth before anything else. After rinsing your mouth, you turned to look at him, utterly unamused. “What for?”

“So I don’t have to sleep on leather?”

“You’re sleeping with me” you rolled your eyes, grabbing his elbow and dragging him into the bathroom so he could get ready for bed too. “Not up for discussion”

“Ok” Henry chuckled, looking at you in the mirror. “But I snore”

As if that would make you reconsider. You walked away and into your room, settling under the covers, without another word. About 10 minutes later, Henry joined you.

He fit in like a piece of puzzle and you didn’t even try to keep yourself from cuddling into his side. Sinking his head down between the multitude of pillows on your bed, you giggled, crawling on top of him. Without thinking too much about it, you kissed your way down his neck, peppering tens of kisses against his naked chest. You felt his heartbeat under your palm as he breathed in and out slowly, smiling down at you as he enjoyed the view.

“Thanks for doing this for me” you mumbled, rubbing your hand up and down his chiseled abdomen.

“Really, Y/n” Henry said, wrapping his arms around you, “There’s no need to thank me. Plus, you think I’m not enjoying this?”

“Oh shut up” you giggled. The amount of small talk that followed turned out to be exactly what you needed in order to allow your eyes to peacefully close. Despite the events of earlier in the evening, you now felt safer than ever before.

It was just a matter of time until soft snores started escaping past your lips, your chest rising and falling every so softly as you drifted out of consciousness.

But Henry’s mind was nowhere near relaxed enough to drift off. No. You were too close to him, too innocent and vulnerable for him to just let this moment pass. The way you had just thrown one of your legs over his lap drove him insane - your bare thigh too accessible to him.

At first, he just tested the waters. A peck to the top of your head, and a small caress against the back of your hand. You were completely out, and that accentuated his need further.

Slowly moving his free arm down his body, Henry brushed his fingers over his clothed member, grunting out loud when he felt the sensibility in his tip. He bit into his bottom lip out of need to keep quiet, teasing himself just a little as he struggled to decide how to go about things. With the way you were laying right now, it was next to impossible for him to free himself without moving you. And even though at the beginning he tried to avoid that, when you stirred in your sleep, your body rubbing up against his, he lost all kinds of patience.

As softly as he could, Henry pushed your leg back, just a little. Even in your sleep, you craved his touch, as when you felt movement, you involuntarily shuffled closer, but much to his relief, your legs remained on the mattress.

Eagerness controlled his actions as he pushed his pants down his thighs, propping his hips up with difficulty. When his underwear was pulled down and his cock sprung free, Henry hissed with unmatched satisfaction. With his hand wrapped around his base and his eyes on you, he swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest with a demented sense of bliss.

"My baby-" Henry cooed, rubbing his lips across your hairline as he started stroking his cock.

His movements were slow but not calculated in any way. His brain was occupied, forcing his hand to work on muscle memory. But still, he teased himself, rubbing his thumb across his slit just like he liked to think you would. 

The fear of getting caught was at an all time high as you stirred again. He froze for a second, "That's my good girl-" Henry whispered, looking down at your sleeping frame. As much as he wanted you to take an active part in this, he knew better than to risk it. 

It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, his back sweating profusely as he pumped himself closer to the edge. His hips bucked, causing the bed frame to creak. Instantly, he stilled, eyes on you, but all you did was rub your cheek against his chest, completely unaware of your surroundings.

"I'm so close for you, my darling" Henry groaned, his throat paper dry as the words left his lips. All he could hear was his own breathing and the unmistakable perverse sound of slapping skin, but still, even above all of that, you kept on peacefully snoring. 

The arm Henry looped around your frame was now traveling lower, his palm exploring your side until he reached your ass. He softly gripped a handful of your bum, squeezing hard enough to make up for the struggle of not allowing himself to finish too early. But it was reckless and maybe he shouldn't have done so, as his touch all but woke you up. 

Still overwhelmed with sleep, you barely pushed yourself up, eyes closed as you slightly changed your position. You were now laying higher up his body, your head almost falling off his shoulder. Your breathing tickled the side of his neck as you snaked your arm up and looped it around his frame. Biting down hard on his bottom hip, Henry felt ridiculous amounts of blood rush to the tip of his cock as you refused to settle already.

Rubbing the tip of your nose across his jugular, still mostly out but not fully, you peaked your eyes open, “Henry-?”

“Y- yeah?” he swallowed thickly, freezing in his spot.

“Why’re you awake?” you mumbled.

“Just woke up- had a weird dream, that’s all”

You believed the lie without an ounce of doubt, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Yes” he whispered, “But in the morning. Sorry I woke you up, go back to sleep, darling”

“Ok” you sighed, kissed his bare shoulder and allowed yourself to drift off again.

Henry licked his lips in a haze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as sweat worked his entire body. God, how he regretted getting himself in his position, but his cock was full on hard, all but leaking at the tip, not so patiently waiting to receive any kind of attention again. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes on you to make sure you were asleep. 

His heart skipped a beat as your mouth popped open, but your light snores came as the strongest form of reassurance, and he resumed his work. The anxiety of getting caught fueled him, and the heels of his feet dug into the mattress, his hips bucking upwards as he furiously pumped his cock.

It was all getting too much. He was close. Henry threw his head back trying to suppress a moan, but he miserably failed. A choked back wail escaped his now dry lips as his whole body tensed. He squeezed you closer, his fingers lewdly digging into the sweet flesh of your ass. He was crossing many lines but that didn't stop him. He didn't see things clear anymore. His chest heaved, rushing up and down as he fisted his cock, biting into his lower lip as he watched your peaceful expression. 

It was pure, dumb luck that he managed to spot a pack of napkins laying on the night stand mere seconds before he came. His juices eagerly ran down his shaft as he flew through his orgasm, his saviour napkin proving almost useless. 

Coming down from his high, he all but managed to calm down, but his mind was still set. He would never get enough of you. And no matter how many times he'd cum, he'd still be down to go again. You had that power over him.

"Fuck…" Henry panted. And in the blur of the moment he created, he didn't even stop to process his thoughts. Gathering the few droplets of cum that landed on his stomach, he brought his hand up to your face, his thumb rubbing across your lips. 

In that moment, then and there, when you unconsciously wrapped your lips around his finger, he almost lost it all over again. 

"Holy-" he cried again, kissing your forehead. As eager and willing as he was to keep going, Henry stopped himself. He tucked the napkins next to the foot of the bed, pulled his pants back up his hips and settled under the covers. 

Sleep didn't come easy, but he eventually drifted off. Unfortunately, the clock had almost struck 3am by the time he closed his eyes, and no later than 6:15, your alarm went off.

"No" you protested, wiggling around in search of your phone. "No school- no, thank you"

Eyes closed and cheek squished into the pillow, Henry raised his arm and found the phone with ease, handing it to you without a word.

Squinting under the bright light of the screen, you dismissed the alarm and snuggled back into Henry's chest, his arms wrapping around your body in an instant.

And as heavenly as this felt, it only lasted for about 5 minutes, until your alarm went off again. 

"Just turn it off" Henry laughed, kissing your forehead, "I'll wake you up after I make breakfast"

"You don't have to" you protested, throwing in a whine or two as you curled yourself around him.

"I want to"

"No"

"Y/n…"

"Ok fine" you sighed, "Thank you"

"No need darling" Henry chuckled and stood up. He once again pecked the top of your head and then he was gone. About one second and a half later, you were asleep again, only to complain when Henry woke you up.

"It's 7" he stated, gathering the blanket in his arms and allowing the cold air to reach your body.

"Give it back" you cried.

"Is that how it's gonna be?" Henry threatened, and despite his dominating tone, you still refused to take him seriously. When you hid your face between the pillows, he deeply sighed, but satisfaction was still audible in his tone. "Fine then"

Taking you completely by surprise, Henry bent down and gathered you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder with absolute ease.

"Henry-" you yelled, "The fuck-"

"Not gonna be late, Y/n" Henry laughed, "Not on my watch"

"God" you giggled along and allowed yourself to be carried to the kitchen. 

As soon as he walked out of the bedroom, a delicious smell reached your nose. It was probably the first real breakfast you'd had in weeks, so you weren't going to complain anymore. Fresh coffee, toast, avocado, pancakes, hard boiled eggs and a multitude of veggies and fruit awaited on the table.

"I didn't even know I had all this food in my house"

"You didn't-" Henry shook his head, sitting down beside you, "Grabbed them from my place"

"You shouldn't have, but thank you"

"No need" he assured you, "Dig in"

When you were done, and right before you headed to the bathroom to get ready, you turned to him again. "Do you know the number of any locksmiths? I really wanna change the locks"

Following a quick Google search, Henry found a multitude of ads, and after choosing the most trustworthy looking one, he dialed the number as you patiently waited beside him.

Everything seemed to go perfectly well, until he frowned, "No, today pl- [...] No, I'm not locked out of my- [...] You sure-? Ok, ok fine. Ok, tomorrow, first thing, ok, thanks"

"They can't come today?" you pouted as soon as he hung up.

"No, I'm sorry" Henry shook his head, and seeing the disappointment plastered on your face, he spoke up again. "I can stay one more night, if you want to. I'll sleep in the living room-"

"What? No" you scoffed, "It's not that…"

"What is it then?" he questioned, starting to get worried.

You hesitated. "Its no-"

"Don't tell me it's nothing" Henry commanded, pointing a finger at you. A smile appeared at the corner of your lips as you rolled your eyes.

"Ok, fine. I just- I just had to film today for the- you know… That's all, but I can do it some other day"

Henry didn't answer until a smirk tilted the corner of his lips upwards. "Or I could help you?"

"Help me?" you gawked.

"Yeah" he nonchalantly shrugged, "Helped you once before, didn't I?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah" he smiled, "Only if you me want to, of course"

Your knees weakened and your heart was beating in all the wrong ways, so all you managed to do was giggle and shake your head in disbelief. "Well, yeah... I want to"

How were you going to tell him that the video was supposed to be of you fucking yourself with a baby pink dildo? And how exactly was he going to help? You had a long day ahead of you and the ridiculous amounts of school work you had to get done in the meantime didn't allow you to give these questions any kind of priority. All you wanted was for the evening to come around already even if you sweated profusely just at the thought of what was to come.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #walter marshall x reader #august walker x reader #geralt of rivia x you

[harryhandstan]

prompt: harry wakes up early on starbucks cup release days and surprises you by buying all the ones he thinks you’ll like. he’s usually able to escape the paps but this time they catch him and he ends up having to explain it in his next interview and gets all shy and can’t stop blushing.

a/n: hello all!! first I want to apologize for my 4 month long writing absence. life just has not been kind to me lately and unfortunately zapped a lot of my creativity energy, but I’m happy to have something done now! hopefully I can continue and keep a more consistent schedule for the remainder of this year!

immense thank you’s are owed to my kind friends @tobesolonely and @meetmymouth for the encouragement to find my creative spark for writing again and for being amazing betas! and to @taintedwonder for the lovely idea! @theharriediaries​ was so sweet to beta for me as well!!

word count: 2.1k

writing tag | masterlist | tiktok inspo 

Harry was usually smarter than this. He had a schedule, a plan, a way to get in and out pretty quickly without being seen. 

But today, he’d lingered too long at the mugs, curious if you’d want one of those as well. Your go-to was iced coffee, even year round in the winter you would prefer something cold over anything warm. He was thinking though, of the nights you were stressed and wanted a cup of soothing tea before bed, or those slower mornings where you don’t have to rush and a mug of coffee fits nicely in your hand while he admires you from across the kitchen table.

By the time he’s decided that yes, you do need this mug with the pastel rainbow print to add to your collection, along with a few of the other cups he thinks you’ll adore and a fresh bag of your favorite flavor of coffee, there’s already a small crowd of people forming in the lobby of the coffee shop and he hopes that he can get through them without being recognized as usual; prays that it’s only the regulars filing in for an early morning fix of caffeine before they rush off to start their day.

The barista thankfully is quick, skillfully giving him his total before rushing off to make the drinks he ordered for the two of you as well. He sees the way her eyes keep darting to him though, knows after years of experience that she knows who he is and is trying to work up the courage to say something to him or ask for a photo. He almost considers offering, she’s been so nice not to draw any attention to him, maybe something discreet could be pulled off. 

In the end he chooses not to, not wanting to assume that’s why she keeps looking over at him. It could be that he still has the hood of his sweatshirt tucked over his beanie or the fact that he’s now walking out of the shop with a small handful of the brown shopping bags with the familiar green logo imprinted on the front.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he makes it back to his car without anyone stopping him. He’s so distracted by securing the bags in the backseat he fails to hear the small clicks of the camera not too far away.

There’s a small comfort in the quietness of your shared apartment when he returns. While he loves coming home to the sound of you dancing around the kitchen making breakfast, his favorite is getting to wake you up himself. There’s a sweet softness in the way the side of your face rests against your pillow, mouth parted slightly and a gentle snore vibrating through your chest. It never fails to make him smile. He cherished the way you inhale faintly, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times, adjusting to the new day you’re waking up to. If he was there, already awake, your eyes always found him before anything else.

This morning is no different, except for the confusion on your face when you find him sitting on the edge of the bed instead of snuggled next to you. 

“You’re up to something, I can tell.”  You’re propped up enough now to accept the coffee he’s holding out for you. You take a few small sips, sighing and letting your head fall back against the headboard as you savor the taste.

“M’that easy to read, huh?” He chuckles, his hand on your thigh now, warming your skin even through the blanket, “Well..would you like your surprise here or will you be joining me in the kitchen while I make you breakfast?”

“Oh I get a surprise and breakfast today? What’s the occasion? Little early for my birthday, H.” 

“Don’t need an occasion to spoil my girl, do I?”

“I guess not.” 

You shrug, trying not to let the guilt bubble up enough to where it flashes across your face. One of his loudest love languages had always been gift giving, a quality about him you thought was wonderful, but still had a hard time accepting. You had to be careful about mentioning things you may want around Harry, he would use any excuse to treat you.

He’s rambling off his reasoning already as he leads you into the kitchen and settles you in one of the tall chairs next to the counter. He always ends his explanation with “I know you told me not to, but…” followed up by what you’re sure to him sounds like a very logical justification for why you need/deserve whatever he was gifting you. There’s nothing out of the ordinary of your regular kitchen set up this morning though, so you do what you normally do when he announces a surprise for you; let him take the lead, not wanting to take away from his excitement. 

“So..surprise or breakfast first?” He stands on the other side of the counter now, his hoodie and beanie discarded, wearing a t-shirt you were sure you bought for yourself but he seems to have laid claim to.

“Breakfast, please. If you don’t mind.” 

“‘Course not. Any requests, baby?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, just as it does each time he uses that particular term of affection for you. He’s already opened the refrigerator, scanning over options for what he could make for the two of you. You recover long enough to tell him no, that whatever he wants to make would be fine, sitting back and enjoying the view as he cracks a few eggs into a bowl.

You don’t even notice that you’re staring until he turns and catches your eye, “What? Did I get a shell in the eggs or something?”

You giggle as he even picks up the clear bowl of eggs that he’s already scrambled and seasoned, even going so far as to swirl his finger through the liquid to double check before you can stop him.

“No, it’s just..I can’t get over the fact that you’re making breakfast for me while wearing my t-shirt.”

“S’it yours?” He glances down at it, “Thought it was mine, sorry..”

There’s a smirk on his face as he turns back to the stove, and you know just by seeing that he knows you don’t mind; you love seeing him in your clothes as much as he adores seeing you in his.  

It’s not long before he’s presenting you with a plate, sitting next to you with his own plate in front of him. When you don’t immediately dig in, he leans over to inspect the food, worried that maybe he’d overdone the eggs or your toast was slightly more brown than you liked. 

So when you say, “You’ve forgotten something very important, haven’t you?” he panics, thinking maybe he should’ve taken the time to include fruit to balance the meal. You take pity on him, not making him wait too long before you lean in and he instantly softens, realizing what you’re asking for. 

He meets you the rest of the way, lips soft against yours, the taste of the coffee you’ve both had lingering for a moment before he pulls away, “Very important. How could I ever have forgotten?”

When you’ve both finished eating, he downs the last of his coffee and stacks your now empty plates to take to the sink, pecking your forehead with another quick kiss, “Alright, close your eyes. Count to 20.”

You begin to count off in your head, and you hear his voice, a bit further away, “Out loud, angel.”

There’s a rustling of bags getting closer as you count, and you can even hear a few clinks as they come closer. You can feel him moving around you, positioning things perfectly for when you open your eyes. 

He’s still behind you when you finish counting, hands squeezing your shoulders to urge you to open your eyes. When you do, you immediately recognize the bags and know exactly what he’s done.

“Oh no. Absolutely not. This is too much, Harry. I let you spoil me with little things here and there, but I cannot accept this.”

Sitting in front of you are..you stop to count them now; 1, 2, 3, 4..6 bags from Starbucks. You know from experience that each one of them contains 2 cups or mugs. You’re sure at least one of them also includes your favorite roast of coffee. He had done this before around Christmas time, when you’d mentioned how adorable a few of the ones from the holiday collection had been, not thinking that he would go back later without you and buy all the ones you’d touched or admired.  

He ignores your refusal, “You can take back any you don’t like. Go on,” He peeks inside one of the bags closest to him and then pushes it closer to you, “Start with this one.”

“Harry, really..”

“Don’t think, just open. If you really won’t accept any of them then I’ll take ‘em back and buy you something from somewhere else.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You try your best to look serious, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, “Thank you, H.”

You finally go through most of the bags, offering oohs and ahhs and even a few squeals of joy at certain ones. 

“I think I got all the ones you’d pick for yourself. Saw you eyeing one or two the other day and the others I just guessed.”

He had done very well in choosing for you, even going so far as to get the two of you a matching pair of the kind that changed colors with the temperature. 

“For our smoothies.” He explains when you give him a particularly soft look at the idea of matching with him. 

“Also got us a matching set of these,” He skips to the last bag, too eager to wait for you to open it yourself, revealing the mug he’d taken the extra time to select, “For our Sunday morning tea. Or if you change your mind and ever want a hot coffee.”

All you can do is repeat the same expression of gratitude as before you had opened them, “Thank you again, H. I love them all, really. No more though, alright? We’re running out of cabinet space. Did you go to our regular spot or a different one so you wouldn’t be recognized?” 

“Different one. Can’t believe I wasn’t spotted though. Must’ve been too early for the paps to be out and about.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as interesting as you think you are, babe. Harry Styles coming out of a Starbucks is old news now.” 

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, “Oh is it now?”

“Mhmm. You’re just plain boring now, H.” You shrug, peeling at the price tag on the bottom of one of the cups, avoiding his gaze; knowing if you look at him you’ll break into a fit of laughter. 

He’s impossibly calm, just like he is before any interview he does. 

You sit across the room from where he’s currently getting his hair done. The stylist was nervous, understandably so, her hands unsure at first. It only takes a few moments of being near Harry; working his quiet, delicate magic of putting anyone he’s near at ease. By the time his hair is finished he’s pulled a few laughs from her and she leaves the room with a big beaming smile and a wave to the both of you.

Now that you’re alone again, he beckons you closer and tugs you down to sit in his lap, despite your protests of the possibility of wrinkling his incredibly expensive suit. 

“Don’t care,” He leans up to press a kiss to your neck, keeping his face tucked there in your warmth, “Just want you close for a moment.”

Normally you would run your fingers through his hair, but you don’t dare do that now, hand drifting to the side of his face instead, “Not nervous are you, H?”

He lets you gently push him back enough to see his face again, “Never. Just happy to have you here with me, that’s all.”   

It’s not until he’s in front of the audience, presented with the evidence of just a few days before, displayed on a screen for all to see. He had been caught, despite his confidence of getting away. He falters for only a beat, head down in hopes to hide the blush spreading high along his cheeks. He finds you in the crowd, sending a bright smile your way before he shrugs, turning his attention back to the host.

“What can I say? My sunshine likes her coffee.” 

//

tag list: @harrysblackcoat​, @summertime-pills​ 

thank you for reading!! as always likes, rbs, and feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

#harry x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #my writing

[queenshelby]

The Nanny – Part Two

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Virgin!Reader

Words: 5798

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

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A Small Surprise

Another week had passed since your encounter with Cillian at the theatre and you missed interacting with him, especially now that you broke up with Darcy once again.

Once again, Darcy had become verbally abusive towards you and you were devastated and upset about his behaviour. You became to realise that, most probably, he won’t ever change. You often thought about Cillian’s words. You were too young to be wasting your time on someone like this.

But, despite your breakup, Darcy called you at least ten times a day, trying to apologise. You ignored his calls, but, unfortunately for you, you still had to interact with him at theatre practice and art school.

At least, Anita was there for you and tried her best to prevent you and Darcy from having arguments while dealing with each other in a professional capacity. But it wasn’t easy.

Since your latest and hopefully final break up, Anita had also tried to hook you up with her brother, but you really weren’t interested in dating anyone after what you have encountered with Darcy.

Despite your disinterest in dating, you struggled to get one man out of your head and this was Cillian.

Since you became to know what he was doing for a living, you could evermore so understand his reluctance to get involved with someone your age. It would almost be cliché for an actor to date someone half his age. The backlash would almost be ridiculous.

In the same vein, you were really not keen on dating an actor. The ridiculous filming schedules, the gossip and the fact that people would look at you differently would certainly upset you and make you uncomfortable.

Yet, you couldn’t forget about him and the kiss you shared. The kiss he initially returned and which felt so amazingly good.

There was something about him that you hadn’t found in any man before. It was almost like you had known him for years and yet, you barely knew him at all. You felt comfortable in his presence and it felt natural to be around him.

With these thoughts on your mind, it was easy for you to let go of Darcy this time around eve though you knew that you could never have Cillian. Or could you?

It was a Sunday afternoon that Craig came home after spending some time at the pub celebrating a friend’s birthday.

He looked somewhat tipsy when he walked inside and Ella became rather frustrated with him. It was almost too funny to watch.

You noticed him carrying a paper back.

‘Y/N, this is for you’ Craig said as he handed the bag to you.

‘Uhm, thank you’ you said, surprised by his gesture.

‘Oh, don’t thank me. Cillian asked me to give this to you so thank him’ Craig said, unsure about what was in the bag. He believed Cillian’s gesture to be odd but didn’t dare to question it.

You walked into your room, curious about what was in the bag.

Unsurprisingly, it was a book entitled ‘The History of Irish Theatre’.

You and Cillian had talked about this book following your little incident at his house.

He thought that it was very educational for anyone who is interested in Irish literature and play writes and he said that, when he goes back to his house, he would get it for you so that you could read it.

You opened the book, very keen to read it.

To your surprise, Cillian had left you a note inside which, amongst other things, contained his mobile phone number and an offer to help you with rehearsing the play if you needed it and wanted an outsider’s opinion.

He also was kind to tag the pages relevant to your play in the 350 page book.

You took out your phone and saved his number before texting him to say thank you.

He responded almost immediately. His response was short but that is what you would have expected from a man in his 40s.

About an hour later, you received another text message from him.

‘I have four tickets to a play at the Abbey which I think you might like. You could go with some friends from your theatre group and your boyfriend. Unfortunately, it’s for a Sunday night though’ he texted.

You responded by thanking Cillian for the offer and telling Cillian that you had broken up with Darcy before taking the courage to ask him whether he would be interested to come with you to see the play.

An hour after your text, you still hadn’t received a response and you regretted asking him. After what happened between you, you thought that you must have taken it too far.

Another twenty minutes later, as you were in the shower, the phone rang.

You quickly jumped out of the shower and answered your phone while the water was still running in the background.

‘Hi, Cillian’ you said shyly as you shivered, still being wet from the shower.

‘Am I calling you at a bad time?’ Cillian asked, observing the background noise through the phone.

‘No no, not at all’ you said.

‘What’s that noise?’ he asked.

‘Uhm, I was just having a shower’ you said and, just after you said this, you realised how inappropriate your comment was once again. There was an awkward silence on Cillian’s end following your comment.

‘Right’ he said before taking a pause.

‘About Sunday, I have seen the play already with some friends but I am happy to take you if you want’ he said before taking another pause. ‘As a friend that is’ he added, qualifying his offer.

‘Of course, yes’ you said shyly.

‘I think that, if we go together, I should probably invite Craig and Ella and suggest that you come with them’ Cillian suggested, being mindful that, otherwise, this might awkward.

‘Yes, sounds good’ you said.

‘Great, I will let you get back to your shower then’ Cillian said with a laugh.

‘Alright…and thanks’ you said.

‘You are welcome’ Cillian responded before hanging up.

To your surprise, a day later, Cillian told you that Craig and Ella weren’t interested in the play but had no problem with you going to see it with Cillian and some other friends.

You felt somewhat awkward about Craig and Ella knowing that you were going to see a play with their mutual friend. But Cillian assured you that they didn’t think anything of it. In Ireland, everyone was friendly and welcoming and interactions like this weren’t suspicious. In fact, Cillian had even told Craig that he had offered to help you with your theatre project and that he believed that the play you were going to see would really help you with your perspective on contemporary Irish theatre. With Cillian being double your age, Craig simply thought that it was a nice gesture and Craig also knew that Cillian could do with some friendly company after yet another fight with his fiancée.

Instead of Craig and Ella, Cillian ended up inviting his youngest sister Janet and her husband John. They both enjoyed theatre and had recently returned to live in Dublin after spending five years together in London.

You met Cillian and his sister and her husband at the theatre and they were very welcoming. You thought it was going to be strange, meeting Cillian’s family, but it wasn’t at all. His sister was in her late twenties and you could relate to her.

You talked about many things before the play started and she was surprised when she learned that you were only 20 years old. According to her, you appeared very mature for your age.

Change of Mind

‘You know she’s nice, smart and very pretty’ Janet said to Cillian about you after you excused yourself to go to the bathroom right before the play started.

‘And she is 20 years old and I am still in a relationship’ Cillian chuckled in response to her comment.

‘And here you are, choosing to attend this play with her instead of your fiancée’ Janet giggled.

‘Because my fiancée and I are taking a break and Y/N is just a friend’ Cillian chuckled.

‘I think you already made up your mind about your fiancée. I know you brother. I am not blind either. I can see the way you look at Y/N. You like her a lot’ Janet said.

‘Janet, she is 20. Now can we change the topic please’ Cillian said firmly.

‘So what if she is 20?...I like her. She seems nice’ Janet said before her husband John had to comment just like a man would.

‘Just count yourself lucky Cillian. Not every man your age has a shot with a young woman like her. Also, you wouldn’t be the first actor who goes there trust me’ John said, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘Enough now, please’ Cillian said just as you returned from the bathroom.

When you returned to the table where Cillian, Janet and John were standing, you finally heard the theatre bell. Cillian seemed somewhat relieved that the play was about to start and you made your way inside, taking your seats.

Just as you sat down, you saw Darcy with his parents and brother. Your heart sunk and you hoped that he would not see you. But he did, almost immediately.

The situation had officially become awkward and, just as Darcy saw you, his father spotted you and Cillian as well.

He came over to greet you and Cillian which, instantly, raised a lot of questions.

Cillian explained to Darcy’s father that you were a friend and, just as he did, the bell rang again, telling everyone to take their seat.

This was lucky, preventing Darcy’s father from asking more questions.

Darcy’s father excused himself and, luckily for you, Darcy was at his best behaviour with his parents being around.

During the interval, Darcy greeted you politely and that was it. He didn’t acknowledge Cillian, Janet and John and there weren’t any further interactions from his side.

After the play had finished, Janet suggested that you all go to Cillian’s house for a drink and some pizza. After all, you hadn’t had dinner yet.

You agreed and picked up some Pizza and a couple of bottles of wine on the way.

To your surprise however, Janet excused herself pretty much straight after dinner and a glass of wine.

‘Well, John and I have to get up very early tomorrow’ Janet said.

‘We do?’ John asked.

‘Yes darling, don’t you remember the thing at your work?’ Janet asked, giving John a nudge.

‘The thing at my work?....Oh right, the thing at my work. I forgot’ John said.

‘Well, we will be going, but you two should really finish this bottle of wine’ Janet said and you observed her winking at Cillian.

Cillian sighed before giving his sister a kiss on the cheek and saying goodbye.

‘Uhm that was strange’ you giggled just as Janet and John left. ‘I just finish this and will call a taxi’ you said, pointing to your full glass of wine.

‘Yes, my sister is strange indeed’ Cillian chuckled, knowing exactly what his sister had in mind.

‘So how did you like the book?’ Cillian went on to ask to change the topic.

‘It’s fantastic. In particular the actor’s notes on the scenes. Although, there is one thing no one really talks about and I have been trying hard to find material on it’ you said.

‘And what is that?’ Cillian asked curiously.

‘How do you act a scene where you have to kiss someone. I mean, do you actually kiss them on stage? How about on screen? I mean, you would have the answer to this wouldn’t you?’ you said.

‘I do’ Cillian laughed.

‘Well then please enlighten me. I am curious’ you said.

‘On screen, depending on the angle of the camara, you most often don’t get around kissing. Your lips touch. It’s as simple as that’ Cillian said.

‘But is it different from a normal kiss?’ you asked.

‘Not really’ Cillian said. ‘But, in saying this, for theatre, no one from the audience will be close enough to see what you are doing so just give the guy a peck if you feel too uncomfortable to kiss him’ Cillian laughed, knowing that the play you were doing included a scene just like this.

‘I am glad you can laugh about it’ you said sheepishly.

‘Well, I know for a fact that you’ve kissed a man before so I think you will be fine. Just don’t think about it as a kiss. Think about it as an act. I guarantee you that, when you are in character with a complex script like yours, it will just come naturally’ Cillian said.

‘I suppose you are right. I mean, at least it’s not Darcy who I have to kiss on stage’ you laughed.

‘Well, there you go’ Cillian said just as an awkward silence erupted between you again.

‘Speaking of which, I have actually been thinking about our kiss more often than I should have’ you said shyly.

‘Y/N, we agreed that we would forget about what happened that morning’ Cillian said.

‘We did. But I can’t’ you said before taking a pause. ‘Can you?’ you asked.

‘I’ve been trying’ he chuckled, causing you to smile.

‘Perhaps you should stop trying and kiss me again. Just once more and I will never mention it again’ you said as you walked over towards him.

‘I am twice your age Y/N. You do realise that, right?’ Cillian said as you took his hands suggestively, indicating that you wanted him to stand up.

‘Yes, I do and I like it’ you giggled before biting your lip. Your comment made Cillian raise his eye brows and laugh.

‘You could be with someone your own age Y/N. I am sure you get plenty of offers. So why me?’ he asked as he stood up in front of you, running his hand over your cheek and moving part of your hair away from your face and behind your ear.

‘Because you are intelligent, kind and not afraid to be yourself. I like that. Despite, I also think that you are incredibly attractive’ you whispered shyly.

‘But, if you don’t like me then just tell me and I accept that’ you added after Cillian didn’t respond to your comment.

‘I like you alright. But I know that it would be a very bad idea if were to get involved with each other’ Cillian said quietly.

‘Maybe. Maybe not’ you said and, just like this, Cillian leaned forward and pressed his lips on to yours.

The kiss was gentle and Cillian caressed your face with his warm hands while his soft lips explored yours. Your lips moved in sync with his for a moment until he pulled away slightly.

‘We should not be doing this’ Cillian said and, just after he did, you decided that, this time, he wouldn’t get away that easily and you crashed your lips back onto his.

He accepted the kiss, giving into you for what felt like an eternity until he pulled away again.

‘Are you sure this is what you want? Because there will be implications if…’ he said and, before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted.

‘I know and I am prepared to deal with these implications as they arise’ you said before pressing your lips back onto his. You knew that, most likely, you would have to keep your interactions with Cillian a secret at least for a little while and you knew that, later down the track, this might cause issues with Craig and Ella.

Despite these intrusive thoughts, you managed to switch off and get lost in the moment and kiss between you soon became heated as Cillian gently slipped his tongue in between the opening of your lips.

You gave in and let his tongue dance with yours as if it was the most natural thing to do. He was such a good kisser. Gentle and passionate.

‘Now do you want me to stay for the night or call a taxi?’ you asked as, after at least ten minutes, your lips drifted apart.

‘If you were to stay, what would you be telling Craig and Ella?’ Cillian asked.

‘That I had some drinks after the theatre and ended up staying at a friend’s house’ you said, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘I guess you are staying then’ he said as he ran his hand over your cheek again before giving you another kiss.

‘Alright’ you said shyly. ‘I will go and have a shower then’ you said nervously.

It felt different this time around and you didn’t know how far he wanted to go. You had never had sex before and intimacy didn’t come naturally to you.

After you both had showers, separately, you met in bed just like the last time when you stayed at Cillian’s house.

Just this time, neither of you bothered getting dressed for the occasion.

Bed Time

Cillian was lying there, under the doona, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs as you walked into the bedroom.

You, on the other hand, wore even less. A black thong. That was it and you could see the appreciation on Cillian’s face as you walked into the bedroom.

But, in addition to your naked body, your tattoos and piercings, he could also see the nervousness on your face as you climbed into bed next to him.

‘You are beautiful’ he said as you got under the doona.

‘If you say so’ you smiled shyly before giving him a kiss.

It wasn’t long until he gently pulled you closer towards him and began running his masculine hands over your body, including your breasts and all the way down to your naked ass.

His lips never left yours and you enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The little amount of his chest hair brushed against your breasts and, as he held you close, you could feel his erection grow beneath his breaths.

You knew he wanted you, all of you and, whilst you wanted to be with him, you weren’t quite ready to take this step yet.

‘Cillian, I am…I never had…’ you said and, before you could finish your sentence Cillian withdraw his hand from you.

‘You are a virgin?’ he asked somewhat surprised, causing you to nod. Whilst you hinted on this previously when you talked with him about Darcy being pushy when it came to your relationship, you never actually told him that you never had sex. It all made more sense to him now and made him dislike how Darcy had treated you even more.

‘I am sorry. I didn’t realise’ Cillian said.

‘Are you disappointed?’ you asked, noticing Cillian’s reluctance to touch you again the same way he was before you told him.

‘Why would I be disappointed?’ he asked, running his hand over your cheek.

‘Not sure. Perhaps you expected something else tonight?’ you said shyly.

‘Well, the truth is that I didn’t expect anything tonight. Not kissing you, not lying next to you or getting to touch your beautiful body. So, I am getting way more than I had bargained for’ Cillian said.

‘You are so kind Cillian. What I meant was that, once you got a woman into bed, you probably didn’t expect this’ you said somewhat embarrassed.

‘At my age, probably not’ Cillian laughed. ‘But, I am not disappointed Y/N. We will just take things slow, move at your pace, alright? Despite, there are so many things other than sex in the conventional way that are enjoyable and I am just happy to lie here with you and kiss you all night’ Cillian said before pressing his lips back on to yours.

‘Things other than sex in the conventional way?’ you asked curiously after your lips drifted apart.

‘Yeah, you know, like other things’ Cillian chuckled. He clearly was out of your comfort zone having to give you a sex ed lesson.

‘Hmm, like what?’ you said cheekily. ‘Can you show me?’ you asked nervously. Whilst you weren’t quite ready to take things all the way, you felt an overwhelming desire for this man and you trusted him and you certainly wanted him to continue to touch you.

Cillian chuckled at your comment but reluctantly agreed. After all, he just promised you to take things slow and what he was about to do didn’t exactly fall into the category of taking things slow.

‘Alright, but you are in charge. Promise me that you will tell me if you want me to stop, ok?’ Cillian said reassuringly.

‘I promise’ you said before he leaned in and gave you another kiss before guiding your back down on to the mattress.

After you lied down comfortably, Cillian kissed you once again before his lips began trailing down your neck, kissing all over it, while his hands wandered over your naked breasts.

In this moment, you felt somewhat vulnerable. You weren’t exactly blessed with a large bust but Cillian seemed to like what he saw as he kissed down your beautiful body, his lips and tongue exploring and enjoying the sweetness of your flesh.

Eventually, his lips found their way to your perky breasts and lingered at a taut, pierced nipple, the tip of his tongue rolling around it, over the tiny bumps on your areola. He drew it into his mouth, eliciting a soft sigh from you as he sucked.

It felt amazing, much unlike what anyone else had ever done to you before and you could feel an unexpected tension build up in between your legs. The moisture within you was building and you trusted Cillian even once his lips began to trail further down your body.

His lips soon found the swell of your belly, and he showered it with soft kisses. His tongue played a moment in your pierced belly button before he continued his downward journey.

Then, suddenly, his lips touched the top of your lace panties causing you to let out a surprisingly loud moan.

No man had ever been this close to your mound before with anything else but their fingers.

With his fingers, he hooked into the ream of your lace panties before sliding them down all the way past your knees and then down over your feet before letting them drop over the bed.

There you were, completely naked, in front of the man you were so desperate for.

With his head moving back in between your legs, you felt vulnerable and excited at the same time.

The scent of your hot sex was now filling his nostrils, making him crave the taste of you.

His lips first touched the inside of your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. Again, you couldn’t help it but moan unexpectantly loud at the sensation.

Your reaction made Cillian smile against your thighs and he moved his head slightly inwards.

You could feel his warm breath on your vulva just before his lips touched your naked mound for the first time.

‘Oh god’ you inhaled sharply, making him smile again. He clearly was doing all the right things and took it slow, much slower than he would usually take it.

After kissing your most intimate body part a couple of time, he finally let his tongue lightly trace down the folds of your flesh.

It felt insane and you moaned loudly before you started to squirm when his tongue ran through your folds for the second time.

Cillian soon felt your fingertips caress his hair as he teased you.

He ran his tongue up and down those lips, enjoying the wetness between them.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned just as you gripped his hair tighter as he pushed his tongue inward in between your lips, savouring the sweet taste of you.

By this point you were dripping wet as his tongue went as deep as it could, his face awash with your warm juices.

Then, Cillian pulled back slightly, moving his tongue up and down, side to side, not wanting to leave any part of your sex untouched.

At the top, he found that sensitive nub of flesh, now fully extended. As his tongue flicked against it, he felt you give a little shiver of pleasure. His tongue swirled around and around, and then his lips engulfed it, sucking it gently as you began to moan even louder.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you moaned as you let your body take in the fullest extend of this sensation and closed your eyes.

Just as you closed your eyes, you could feel one of Cillian’s fingers run over your wet slit while his tongue continued to swirl around your clit.

You took in a deep breath but tried to relax as much as possible, thinking about what he might be doing next.

And, just like this, he carefully slipped a finger into you, watching your cues closely for any pain.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned again at the sensation. To your surprise, it felt nice, very nice.

After your body relaxed again Cillian began moving his finger in and out in a slow, steady rhythm as his tongue played a staccato on your pulsing clit.

He loved your taste, your scent, your sounds, he was in his happy place, and your pleasure was his goal.

He kept going, making love to you with his lips and tongue and fingers. Your sounds intensified in volume; the grip on his hair tightened; your hips rose as you squirmed beneath his ministrations.

After several minutes of pure extasy, Cillian carefully inserted a second finger while he gentle sucked on your clit.

You tensed up once again at the intrusion but, following some mild discomfort, were able to relax again. The slight amount of pain quickly turned into pleasure and your breathing was becoming heavier.

You felt full, just by his fingers and they moved in and out of you in the perfect rhythm.

With your moans becoming louder and louder and your walls becoming tighter around his fingers, he could tell that you were close. He pushed his fingers into you deeper, hooking them slightly upward and touching that other magical spot you never knew existed.

Your moans turned into screams of pleasure and your hips bucked as he pushed you over the edge.

Cillian lifted his eyes so he could look up at you and see your head thrown back, eyes closed, and mouth open with your moans and screams of pleasure filling the room.

You were totally lost in the ecstasy of the moment. His tongue was still dancing against your pulsing extended clit.

Your hips bucked one more time, and then you grasped his hair and pulled him away. It was too much, too intense.

He would have kept going for as long as you would let him, but your body had reached the point of pleasure saturation, and you needed to catch your breath.

While you were breathing heavily, coming down from your high slowly, Cillian kissed his way up your body until your lips met, and you shared one long deep kiss.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked as he could see small tears building up in your eyes. You looked completely exhausted and somewhat confused.

‘Yes, it’s just… I think I just had an orgasm’ you laughed.

‘Well, that was the idea’ Cillian chuckled. But you didn’t laugh at his joke. You were entirely overwhelmed.

‘Have you not had one before?’ Cillian asked somewhat surprised by your reaction.

‘What, an orgasm? No…But I read it’s normal for women not to have orgasms’ you said shyly.

‘If that was true then that would be pretty disappointing’ Cillian chuckled as he took you into his arms.

‘How about you get some rest alright?’ Cillian said with a smile as you seemed somewhat besides yourself which he thought was cute.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his arms. You felt so safe and secure next to him.

But for Cillian, it took a little longer. Whilst he promised you to take it slow and was prepared to stick to his promises, deep down inside, he wanted you, all of you.

Good Morning Mr Murphy

The next morning, your alarm went off at 7am. You had to attend art school which was due to start at 9am.

You would have rather stayed in bed with Cillian, but this wasn’t an option.

When the sound of your alarm ripped you out of your dreams and your eyes shot open, you noticed that Cillian wasn’t lying next to you.

As you got up to look for him, you heard the shower running in the bathroom. He was up early and it surprised you.

‘Can I come in?’ you asked as you knocked on the bathroom door.

‘Uhm, yes sure’ Cillian yelled out. He clearly was still in the shower.

‘Good Morning’ you said as you walked inside, not being able to see Cillian through the steam covering the door of the shower.

‘Good Morning… I will be out in a minute’ Cillian said, his voice sounding somewhat hasty.

‘No need, I just come in’ you said.

Without asking permission, you opened the shower door and stepped inside.

Your lips instantly met Cillian’s lips as you stepped closer towards him. But he seemed somewhat uncomfortable with your quick approach.

As you went to press your body against his soapy chest, you could feel something in between you and, just as you did, you looked downwards.

This was the first time you saw Cillian’s most intimate part and it was quite a sight.

‘Sorry’ Cillian said with some embarrassment as his erection pressed against you. He had struggled with it on and off since the previous night.

‘Now I am no expert, but I think that your reaction down there tells me that you like me, a lot’ you giggled as your hand reached for his hard cock.

Cillian moaned at your touch and you slowly began stroking him.

‘Now, I have never done this before so just tell me if I do something wrong alright?’ you said as your hands moved to either side of his hips.

‘Done what?’ Cillian asked and, just as he did, you dropped down to your knees right there in front of him.

‘This’ you said as you took hold of his cock again and guided it towards your mouth.  

You could hear a soft moan come out of Cillian as your tongue touched his shaft for the first time.  

You first licked the side of his shaft tentatively. Your heart was pounding as you did and you continued licking the sides and worked your way to the top of his cock.

Swirling your tongue around the head of Cillian’s cock and then working your way back down the shaft, you felt like you found yourself in another world, one you had never been in before.

Cillian groaned again and you felt his hands on your head as you continued licking his cock and then finally taking him into your mouth as far as you could go.

You didn't have a clue what you were doing, never having done this before, but you started bobbing up and down his shaft.

As Cillian’s moans became louder and steadier, you started bobbing up and down his cock even faster. You could taste his per cum on your tongue and then felt his hands hold on to the hair on your head even tighter.

You were in control but it was almost like he needed to hold on to something, grab something with his hands.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned and you could tell he was getting close.

Before he could say anything else, you looked up at him.

‘I want you to come in my mouth’ you said before taking him back inside your mouth.

He looked surprised but didn’t dare to argue and, after a few more head bobs, he let go.

You could feel his cock begin to throb in your mouth and, just as you did, his hot sweet cum began to flow steadily from his shaft into your mouth.

You stopped bobbing your head as he came down from his high and let go of his cock before looking up at him and opening your mouth.

He could see his cum in your mouth and the disbelieve on his face made you laugh for a second, causing you to spill some but swallowing the rest.

‘Are you sure you never done this before because I never had a woman do this last bit’ Cillian chuckled as he helped you up.

‘No…never’ you said. ‘But, I’ve watched porn before’ you laughed as you wiped your mouth before giving Cillian a kiss.

After your intimate encounter, you both cleaned yourself off and got dressed before Cillian gave you a lift to art school.

Unpleasant Surprise

Your day at art school was good but you couldn’t get Cillian out of your head that day.

You went as far as to cancel your date with Anita that same afternoon so that you could surprise Cillian at his house later.

It was probably for the better you thought as Anita had many questions for you that day after Darcy had told her that he saw you at the theatre with Cillian.

At 4.30pm, after picking up some food and clothes from at home, you made your way to Cillian’s place.

You knocked on the door and, eventually, Cillian opened.

‘What are you doing here Y/N?’ Cillian asked surprised. You came by unannounced and thought that, maybe, it wasn’t a good idea after all. Perhaps he didn’t like surprises.

‘I am sorry, I should have called. I just wanted to surprise you’ you said before asking Cillian whether you could come inside.

‘It’s not a good time Y/N’ Cillian said and, in this moment, you could hear a female voice from inside his apartment.

Through the crack of the door, you could see a blonde woman. She was pretty, probably in her late thirties, wearing a black dress and heels. It was obvious to you that Cillian and her were close.

‘Can I call you later?’ Cillian asked.

‘Right, sure’ you sighed as you handed him the bag with the food and walked off.

As you walked towards the elevator, tears were building up in your eyes and you felt overwhelmingly anxious and upset. Perhaps he wasn’t different than other actors and you were just another quick fling.

You didn’t pick up his calls that day. You’ve been hurt enough by men in the past.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

[princessphilly]

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Word Count: 5118

CW: angst, smut but not super filthy smut (medium filth?), bad language

Dress and shoes that Nina wore in this chapter

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Only three more chapters and an epilogue left

Nina fidgeted as dug into her pocketbook for her keys to her parents’ house. It was time for Sunday dinner, the one meal a week that she wasn’t responsible for cooking and therefore, Nina never missed it. Cooking was not her forte and Nina had no problems with that. However, this Sunday dinner, she needed to talk to her family about their lives changing.

The smell of roast chicken filled the house and Nina took a deep sniff as she opened and closed the door. Aryanna and Dad were watching the late game aka hate-watching the Ravens vs Saints. The Steelers were playing on Monday night this week. 

“Heey sweettart,” Vernon said, getting up to give his oldest daughter a hug. 

Nina hugged her father back, holding him close for a second. “Hi Dad.”

“Oh no!”

Nina ended the hug, turning with her father towards the tv. Lamar Jackson had just run for a 20-yard touchdown. They all groaned; the Steelers needed the Ravens to lose as both teams were running neck to neck for the AFC North crown. As Nina got absorbed into the game, the situation with Sidney was still in the back of her mind. 

Nina had talked to her mom earlier in the day, explaining everything to her mother, well everything but the sex. Tracey had listened with an open ear before telling her daughter not to make a decision over her potential happiness just because of how it could affect her family. Tracey had reminded Nina that Jason, while he was at UNC now, had been a 5-star tight end prospect and they dealt with the media when it was time for him to sign with a college. 

After talking to her mom, Nina had taken a nap before coming to sunday dinner. As she watched the game, waiting to eat, Nina hoped for courage. However, she kept it to herself when it was time to eat, instead listening to Aryanna talk about school, her dad talk about his new position at work which meant that he wasn’t going to be going out on the road as much anymore. Nina shared some stories about her clients while Tracey talked about the switch to travel nursing over working in the hospital. But when it was over, Nina gulped and summoned her courage.

“So, I got news,” Nina started once dinner was over and dessert was served. She looked down at her glass of water. Before she could continue, Aryanna piped up. “Let me guess, you’re breaking up with Sidney Crosby because you’re a punk.”

“Aryanna!” 

Nina glared at her little sister while Tracey reprimanded, “That was rude, little girl.”

“Sorry,” Aryanna muttered.

“Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted,” Nina said, “I have news. After thinking about it, talking to Sidney, and going over the pros and cons, I’ve decided to give him another chance.”

Tracey smiled as Aryanna shouted yes. Vernon looked at his daughter and carefully said, “Are you ready for it?”

Nina grimaced. “As ready as I can possibly. Are y’all?”

“We only want you to be happy, sweetie,” Tracey consoled. “Plus, I saw those pics of you two. He’s smitten.”

Nina groaned while Aryanna laughed. Vernon added, “We were already planning to move soon anyway. We’ve been looking at homes in South HIlls and we just closed on a house in Mt. Lebanon.”

“Oh wow. When was I going to find out,” Nina said with a smirk. She knew her parents had been thinking of moving for a while but the market had been super hot for a long time. Before she had moved into her current apartment, Nina had heard of the different arguments her parents had about moving to different areas. But before they could find somewhere, someone else would snap it up.

Tracey grinned. “We weren’t going to say anything until we closed because of how long it took to find somewhere. It’s taken almost two years and we even saved enough to offer forty percent as a down payment. It’s a fixer-upper though but it has a bigger backyard for my garden and the schools are better.”

“What are you going to do with this house,” Nina asked before taking a bite of her sweet potato pie. Fuck, she wished she could bake and cook just so she could make herself sweet potato pie all of the time. 

Vernon replied, “Probably sell. There are people looking to buy even though this area isn’t that great. ”

“I guess it’s settled. This is exciting though.”

Tracey snickered before looking at her husband. “I hope you are still excited when we need you to help pack, Ni-ni.”

Nina looked to her right before taking out her phone and sending a quick message. Free monday? 12pm?

She received a quick response. Yup, just tell me where to meet

Vernon casually commented, “I’m also looking at it this way; this is a practice for when Jason is in the NFL and becomes famous.”

“Good point,” Tracey said. “I can start practicing telling people no even more now.”

Nina laughed. “Looks like I have nothing to worry about then.”

The conversation switched to the Steelers game tomorrow night as they finished dessert.

**

Honestly, Sidney was a bit surprised to get a message from Nina so quickly. He had fully expected her to wait until Wednesday and he had been preparing himself for the worst possible outcome. As a competitor, prepping for each game meant learning his opponents’ strengths and weaknesses. Nina wasn’t his opponent but Sidney was now very aware of the power she had over him with just one look, let alone her touch or words. 

Nina had asked to meet somewhere that wasn’t at their homes. Sidney suggested lunch but after looking at his schedule, he asked if Nina could maybe meet him at the Pens offices and then get lunch after. Fidgeting in the smaller conference room, Sidney began to worry that Nina wouldn’t show up when the clock showed that it was already five minutes past the time they agreed to. But then, Nina wasn’t the most on time person either so Sidney rationalized to himself, he should worry if it was fifteen minutes passed and she still wasn’t here. 

Then outside the door, Sidney saw Nina talking with Evelyn, one of their PR mavens. They were having an animated discussion and Sidney smiled softly. Nina opened the door and grinned at him. “Hi Sid, sorry for being late.”

Evelyn waved at Sidney and he waved back. After Nina walked in, Evelyn peeped in and said, “I was just catching up with Nina since it’s been a while since she’s been here.”

Sidney nodded as Nina replied, “thank you so much for the advice, Evelyn, I will definitely use it!”

Evelyn waved goodbye before closing the door firmly. Nina chose a chair directly across from Sidney and sat down. There was a brief pause before Nina giggled. “Oh my God, you looked like you were about to die before I showed up.”

“Well, I had to remind myself that you’d show up but part of me still was worried because of everything in our last conversations,” Sidney replied. 

The aura in the room turned serious as Nina bit her lip and folded her hands together. “Yeah, those conversations,” Nina started. “I like you a lot, Sidney Crosby, but… I hate this circus that surrounds you. I know that it’s something you can’t control but I hate it. But I realized, especially after talking to my mom, there’s nothing I can do about it now. My life’s forever changed.”

Sidney cleared his throat but Nina stopped him. “Let me finish, Sid because I can already tell you’re ready to make promises you can’t keep. So let me save both of us the headache.”

Sitting back, Sidney leaned in his chair. “What are your plans, pretty girl?”

“You have to get over being super private and claim me publicly. You want me to be yours, Mr. Crosby? Then you have to let the world know we are together. No are they or aren’t they bullshit.”

Nina glared at Sidney when she was done. Sidney flushed; part of him hated the idea of letting the world know more than they really needed to know about his personal life. At the same time, he already knew he was going to do whatever Nina asked him to, in his own way. “You know I don’t use social media,” Sidney began before trailing off. Then he smirked. 

Nina casually said, “you’ll find a way.”

“I already figured it out,” Sidney drawled. “What else do you want, pretty girl?”

“No more surprise meet ups with people from the team, let me know ahead of time. Just like I’ll let you know ahead of time whenever I decide you should meet my fam.”

Sidney actually blushed while Nina arched an eyebrow. “I know I’m amazing but that was a bit uncomfortable when I think back. At least you didn’t abandon me to talk to your teammates and let me fend for myself.”

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Sidney apologized. He felt really bad now: he had been so excited that he really didn’t think about how Nina would have felt. Nina shrugged; it wasn’t that bad to be honest because Sidney stayed at her side, introduced her to everyone, and made sure she was included. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to continue doing that. 

Nina smiled at Sidney and asked, “what do you think, Sid?”

Sidney scratched his jaw as he thought of his reply. It was relatively simple but it would also be life-changing for him. He finally said, “Yes, it all sounds good. But I have one thing?”

“What’s that?”

Sidney smirked as he looked Nina up and down. Nina rolled her eyes as she smiled. She could guess where his mind was, right in the gutter. But Sidney surprised her when he said, “Then let me spoil you.  I have no problem claiming you publicly, but I want you to let me treat you like I’ve been wanting to treat you.”

Nina gave Sidney a bashful smile before looking to the side. “I’ll never say no to purses and shoes but I don’t want you to buy out the store-“

“I already know that, sweetheart,” Sidney firmly said, “but let me treat you like you deserve.”

“Okay, okay,” Nina conceded.

Sidney pushed his chair back, making space. Then he patted his lap. “Come ‘ere.”

Nina got out of her chair and sat on Sidney’s lap. “You know where we are,” she hissed even though she had obeyed him. 

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Sidney smiled. Smelling her coconut-vanilla scent, he realized how much he had missed her. “I know, I’m not going to do anything inappropriate, pretty girl. Just missed having you close to me.”

Sidney kissed the back of Nina’s neck, causing her to shiver. “Watch the postgame of our next game, Nina. Now, what do you want for lunch?”

“Um, honestly, I want Chipotle. I have to get back to work in about an hour so nothing fancy,” Nina replied. 

Turning so that she was facing Sidney, she placed her index finger over his lips when he opened his mouth. “I forgot to add this earlier but I’m also going to say this now. I’m not quitting my job anytime soon. I’m going to finish my Ph.D. and if I decide to stop working, it’s because I plan to teach full-time. So, if you expect I’ll be waiting at home and living for you, now you know that’s not going to happen,” Nina stated. 

Sidney opened his mouth to reply but the door opened. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you, Sidney!”

Nina squeaked in surprise and Sidney sighed. It was Brian Burke and Sidney was sure that it was probably something important but this wasn’t quite the moment where he wanted to see him. 

Brian smiled. “It looks like you two have made up.”

Nina weakly waved. At first, she was going to move off of Sidney’s lap but his hand around her waist made that impossible. “I’d introduce myself but I figure I interrupted,” Brian continued. 

“It’s okay, I was on my way to get lunch,” Nina replied. 

Sidney added, “With me.”

“Don’t forget, you said you wanted to help with more planning for our pride game this season,” Brian reminded Sidney.

“Ohh, the pride game! You’re getting more involved in it? That’s awesome,” Nina exclaimed. 

Sidney blushed as he smiled under Nina’s praise. 

“Would you be interested in being involved, Nina,” Brian asked.

Nina paused for a second, her eyes wide. “Um, sure.”

“I can get your contact information from Sidney,” Brian asked.

Nina nodded as Sidney rubbed his hand up and down her back. Sidney said, “I’ll let you know,” as Brian closed the door. 

Placing a hand over her face, Nina sighed. “Wow.”

“It’s fine. Look, your first volunteer project,” Sidney kidded. 

“I need to eat.”

**

The game against the Isles had gone well. Sidney had tallied two assists and a goal in a 4-2 win after having a four game slump. Normally post-game interviews were a necessary evil but he was a bit nervous this time. Not because he knew they were going to ask about getting out of his slump, but because of what he was going to say. 

The first couple of questions were easy softballs. Then Sidney was hit with the question that opened the door. 

“Sidney, great breaking your slump. There were rumors that your personal life was affecting your game on the ice. What do you think about that?”

Sidney looked at the reporters, all ready for him to give a cliche. Instead, Sidney admitted the truth. “My personal life was affecting my game on the ice. But we’ve fixed our issues and I’m glad.”

There was a pause, as if the reporters didn’t know where to start. Sidney looked at one of the PR interns to the side. The intern gave him a slight smile and a quick thumbs up. Sidney decided to continue, “We prefer to keep our relationship private for now but she means a lot to me and is very important to my life. I will not be answering any more questions about my relationship at this moment.”

Luckily, the rest of the questions were about hockey but Sidney knew that his statement was going to be a big part of what everyone was going to talk about. Once back in the locker room, Geno gave Sidney a big grin. Tanger said, “You did it?”

“Yeah but I’m serious, I’m not going to answer a bunch of questions about my personal life,” Sidney replied. “Now though, every time we struggle, the dumbasses will start talking about it.”

Tanger grimaced as Geno said, “Fuck them.”

Guentzy laughed as he stated, “I agree with Geno. Fuck them.”

Sidney laughed as he pulled his shirt off before pulling off his pads. Sitting in his crocs, hockey pants and pads, Sidney pulled out his phone. There was just one message from the only person who’s opinion mattered to him, wow😍 .

Sidney replied back, made it official for u but in the way u wanted 😁😏

😘🥰 part of me can’t believe it but i’m happy u listened to me, was Nina’s reply. 

Sidney texted, only 4 u, before finishing getting undressed so he could take a shower.

**

To be totally honest, Nina thought her life would have exploded the minute that Sidney admitted that he was seeing someone in the post-game conference after the Isles game. It wouldn’t take much to put 2 and 2 together, especially when she went out with Sidney and the Malkins to a popular Shadyside restaurant the day after. But things were relatively calmer. 

There were still the nasty looks from other people, especially women when Nina was out by herself, running her everyday errands. But there were also people who seemed to defer to her and it felt so fucking weird. Like, if she wanted to, Nina felt like people were ready to let her do whatever she wanted because she was now Sidney Crosby’s girlfriend. 

Nina bit her lip as she waited in line to pay for her groceries. Then someone bumped into her and it was Ron. “Hey Nina, long time no see.”

“Hi Ron,” Nina replied with a strained smile. 

“Not everyday one sees their ex. Look at you, shopping like the rest of us. Your man ain’t ordering groceries for you.”

Nina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She could feel the eyes of other people at Weis and she knew there were people looking for something to gossip about. Nina definitely didn’t want to give Ron the satisfaction of a reaction. She merely replied, “I have my own life I have to take care of on my own.”

“Oh wow, because I remember the way you two were looking at each other that time we went out on a date. Makes me think you were cheating on me with him,” Ron goaded. 

Nina gave him a blank look. “We were long over, for almost three years, before I went out with Sidney. But you had two other women when we were a couple,” Nina stated with a shrug. “Anyway, it’s my turn to check out. Bye.”

Nina tuned Ron out as she checked out. The cashier commented, “That guy seems like a dick.”

“You live and you learn,” Nina replied with a smile as she paid, unaware that someone had uploaded video of that encounter to the internet.

**

Sidney gulped down his protein shake, home after practice. The season was starting well but he felt like the team could be better. Sidney wanted another cup, one more cup and he felt like this was the year. Then his phone buzzed and he saw it was his mom.

“Hi Mom,” Sidney said, sitting on his sofa. He had some time before he needed to get ready for tonight and it was always good to talk to his mother.

Trina chirped, “Hi Sidney, how are you?”

“I’m doing good, short practice today before our game against New Jersey tomorrow,” Sidney idly replied as he turned his tv on. Flipping through Netflix, he chose an episode of How I Met Your Mother. 

He could hear his mother’s smile through the phone when she teased, “Your father told me you told the press that you are seeing someone last week. Is it that girl you kept talking about over the years?”

Sidney giggle-honked before admitting, “Yes, it is. I’m finally dating Nina.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea? This is something totally different for you,” Trina asked, concerned. Her son had a relationship with Kathy but this situation with this new girl was something totally different. Part of her was worried that since Sidney had wanted this girl for so long, that he was diving into this without really thinking about it.

Sidney replied, “You sound like Nina.”

“Hmm, I do?”

“Yep, Mom, you did,” Sidney said, “Nina wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for a long time but I managed to convince her it was.”

Trina was still feeling skeptical. From what she knew, this girl was from the area, a fan of the team, a different race, and had worked for the team for a period of time. It was possible she could be playing the long game. “Is she there with you now?”

Knowing her son, Trina was convinced that Nina was already living with her son. Her son, when he decided he wanted something, went all out to get it. She was surprised when Sidney said, “No, she’s at work, then she has class.”

“Class,” Trina asked, her tone perking up. This sounded interesting. 

Sidney informed his mother, “Nina decided to get a PhD in rehabilitation science this year. She works as a physical therapist.”

“That sounds interesting, isn’t that how you met her,” Trina idly said. The door opened and Troy stepped in. Trina put her finger to her mouth to shush her husband. 

Sidney scratched his head, wondering where his mother was going with these questions. “Yes. Nina works somewhere else totally different now. But she’s looking into becoming a professor after guest lecturing at, I think, Pitt.”

Trina raised her eyebrows. That was interesting information. Switching the conversation to more mundane subjects, Trina filed that information in the back of her head. It sounded like this Nina was a bit more well-rounded than she thought. 

Sidney sighed when he hung up on his mother. That conversation felt like one thing but he could sense there was another undercurrent. Then he received a picture message from Nina and his mind went straight to the gutter. Sidney sighed; it was going to be a long night.

**

“You look very nice.”

Nina smiled as she replied, “Thank you,” to the guest. 

It was kind of last minute, this dinner that Nina found herself invited to. It was thrown by Nathalie and most of the top brass of the Penguins were here as well as Sidney, the Letangs, and the Malkins. Because Sidney had gone public with their relationship, Nina had found herself suddenly invited. Luckily for her, Nina already had an appropriate cocktail dress for the occasion. 

Her dress was black with an asymmetrical one shoulder with a bow but it came to just above knee level. Nina’s heels were gold, an impulse purchase several months ago that she was happy to have. The outfit was classy, understated, and definitely Penguins colors. 

Sidney seemed to like it as well from the way his arm stayed possessively around Nina’s waist whenever possible. At least it wasn’t a public event; the possessiveness would have looked bad. But because it was informal and in a private room at PPG arena, Sidney was able to get away with it. 

The length was a blessing and a curse. A blessing that it meant that Sidney couldn’t try to do any funny business during dinner but a curse in that the more he touched her, the more Nina wanted him. By the end of the night, it was obvious that Sidney was getting close to losing his cool and Nina was loving it. 

As soon as they got into the car at the end of the night, Sidney pounced. His lips touched hers, demanding and devouring as he kissed her. Then abruptly, Sidney let go. “You'd been torturing me all night in that little black dress. So sexy, the way it showed off my pretty girl’s body.”

Sidney already knew that Nina was perfect in every way anyway. However, as soon as he saw her step in with that black dress and gold heels, it took every ounce of media training and self-control for Sidney not to strip it off of her and fuck her right there. Right now, he was glad that he hired a car after this event. 

Sidney didn’t even do anything in the car other than keep his hand on Nina’s thigh. The difference was that he told Nina every filthy thing he planned to do to her once he got her home. Nina wiggled on the seat, her legs shifting as Sidney whispered what he planned to do to her. It was insane, what he could do to her with his words. 

Nina had expected Sidney to push her against the wall when they got back to his place but instead, he just guided Nina to the kitchen before taking out two glasses. Picking out a wine, Sidney poured two glasses. 

“I’ve missed you in my bed but I’m patient,” Sidney stated, his hands palming Nina’s ass before giving both cheeks a smack. Then Sidney picked up the glasses of wine and passed one to Nina.

Nina smirked. “I’m not,” she said as she took a sip. 

“Can’t be patient for me, pretty girl?”

Nina shrugged as she took another sip. Then she delicately licked a drop that was on her lower lip, causing Sidney to visibly grunt and shudder. “Maybe,” Nina finally replied. 

“Good.”

Sidney sat down in a chair and patted his lap. Nina sat on his lap, the hem of her dress riding up. “Did you have a good time?”

“I actually did for something that was pretty last minute. Don’t ask me if I remember everyone’s name yet.”

“That’s okay,” Sidney reassured Nina. “No one expects you to remember everyone, yet.”

Nina snorted before taking another sip of her wine. Idly, Sidney added, “Fuck, I love this dress.”

“Maybe if you move your hands higher underneath it, you’ll get a surprise,” Nina taunted. Licking her lips, she winked.

Unable to resist a challenge, Sidney moved his hand higher and higher. Then he whistled when he realized Nina’s surprise. “You went commando all night and didn’t tell me?”

“I’m lucky this dress was lined so well that no one could tell,” Nina admitted. “But it was worth it.”

“How,” Sidney asked as his hand touched Nina’s pussy. She was already wet.

Nina smirked. “Because I knew if you found out tonight, the look on your face would have been priceless.”

Sidney ignored that statement as he stroked Nina’s core with his fingers. Rolling her clit with his fingers, Sidney hissed at the idea that Nina was here, with him tonight. His pretty girl, perfect in his lap. "I love how wet you get for me, pretty girl."

"Only for you, daddy," Nina moaned as she clutched his shoulders. Sidney growled at her words, her pussy clenching harder on his fingers. 

Suddenly, Sidney picked Nina up and placed her on the table. Nina smiled as she hiked up her dress and spread her legs. Sidney licked his lips. “We’re gonna see how many times you cum for me tonight, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” Nina moaned as his mouth met her core.

**

Sidney woke, at first disoriented because someone else was in his bed and curled up on top of him. Then he realized it was Nina and he relaxed. Her head was on top of his chest, one arm on him as she slept on her side. Carefully extracting himself, Sidney went to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he watched Nina continue to sleep, now curled into herself. Sidney took a quick picture, it was so cute. However, after taking the picture, he checked his messages. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted.

Nina opened her eyes slowly, her body deliciously sore after last night. Stretching out her arms, she sleepily asked, “What’s wrong, Sid?”

“Seems like someone has something against you, pretty girl,” Sidney said, suppressing his fury. 

Nina’s eyes snapped open, sleep now forgotten. Sitting up, she queried, “What happened?”

“There's a video of you with some guy at a market.”

Grimacing, Nina sighed. “I ran into Ron while getting groceries. He was being a jagoff asshole.”

“You don’t look bad at all, PR thinks you handled it perfectly.”

Nina got off the bed and walked over to Sidney. Wrapping her arms around him, she pleaded, “Fuck him and fuck whoever took video.”

Snuggling into Sidney’s chest, Nina nipped one of his nipples. “Plot your revenge later, Sid. It’s eight am and I know you have a maintenance day today. Come back to bed.”

“‘Come back to bed?’ You know this is my bed,” Sidney joked. His anger was going away each second that Nina was pressed against him, her lips giving him little kisses and bites on his upper body. 

Nina looked up at Sidney, giving him soulful eyes. “Please, daddy?”

Trailing her hands around his neck, Nina murmured, “I’ve been so good. Please?”

“Fuck, how can I say no,” Sidney groaned as Nina giggled. Picking her up, he tossed her on the bed. 

Scooting back, Nina spread her legs as Sidney settled in the middle of them. “I love the way you fuck me, Sidney.”

Sidney smirked, his brown eyes smoldering as he crouched over Nina. “Oh do you?”

“Yes, I do,” Nina hummed, her fingers tugging on his chain. “You should do it again.”

Sidney settled between Nina’s thighs, pulling her legs around his waist. His lips lowered to hers in a gentle kiss. Slow and drugging, enough to make both of them red hot for each other, full of promise. Pulling away, Sidney nipped Nina’s lower lip. Nina sucked her lip into her mouth, her brown eyes meeting Sidney’s. Cupping Nina’s chin, Sidney reminded her, “How do you ask, pretty girl?”

“Please fuck me, daddy,” Nina asked, her body arching towards his. “Make me yours.”

“Good girl.”

**

Nina tried hard not to feel self-conscious as she made her way to the ice-level with Aryanna, Catherine and her children, and Anna with Nikita. It had been a week since that awful article with video from her interaction with Ron. It had been set up to make Nina look like a gold digging whore and it hurt to have guys, guys she had only gone out with once or twice, say things that made her seem horrible. Nina hadn’t admitted that part to Sid when he was in a fury about it. Lauren had reminded Nina that men tend to be assholes about women that they couldn’t have and that Nina was way beyond their level even before her current relationship. 

Even though Nina had distracted Sidney that morning, by the afternoon, that article was off the internet. A radio host had mentioned it and then within an hour, issued an apology for talking about it. However, it was forgotten pretty quickly as more people cared about the Steelers potentially staying undefeated with a game coming up against the Browns.

Nina smiled as they reached the ice. The team was doing warm-ups and Sidney was in the midst of his pregame rituals. She actually had more enjoyment from watching Aryanna react to watching the guys on the ice. Tanev gave the glass near them an ice shower while Geno and Kris had greeted Nina and Aryanna while saying hi to their families. Then, very unexpectedly, Sidney broke one of his traditions and came over. Giving the glass a small shower, Sidney waved at Aryanna before smirking at Nina. Nina smirked back before giving Sid a little wave. 

As people took pictures of Sid waving to her, Nina smiled. She could live with this, maybe. ‘No, that was a lie’, Nina thought as they made their way to the family box. She was going to have to live with this now, it was too far gone to go back. And she didn’t want to.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagines #Sidney Crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby smut #sidney crosby fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagines #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl smut #smut #penguins imagines #penguins imagine #penguins fic #all bets are off #hockey fanfiction #crosby fic #Crosby rpf #hockey smut #nhl writing #hockey writing

[robinrequiems]

ok ig cashier damian is my latest hyper fixiation, so let’s add

• Ight so, on fridays, jon cannot come in all the time, very rarely can he. and when he does. he sees a very cute sleepy damian who also wants to punch him:)

• damian is just a mess. he didn’t have time to fix his appearance because as soon as he got out of school, he had to change in a shitty unsanitary grocery store bathroom.

• it was not fucking fun. it never is. damian is so over it. jon normally sees Damian working on homework quickly before putting it away when Jon or other customers show

• damian cannot be asked to look like a normal human being when he just finished 7 sad hours of school in ANOTHER shitty uniform. he hates uniforms

Jon: you look like you’re gonna fall asleep

Damian: ugh, look who it is, the good boy from metropolis who doesn’t look like a creep at all when he comes here just to talk to me. woo hoo!

Jon: nice to see you too

• jon normally sucked on lollipops when he didn’t want to chew on gum, plus sometimes he chews on gum really aggressively and it hurts his jaw

• but let’s talk abt jonny: star athlete ( I’m a simp for athletes jon, please kill me. he’s a basketball player in this though. he got the height for it anyway ), himbo-vibes, and overall sweetheart.

• at least that’s what everyone else thinks. his life is a cycle. A very miserable cycle. It’s honestly tiring and hurts his head and generally takes his mood down

• but then he drove to bludhaven in his new car and brand new license. and he saw him.

• sure he’s seen moody teenagers working at stores before, but this boy; Damian, by his name tag, was different. He SENSED IT

• jon found that he liked different

• damian.. just didn’t easily talk with Jon like so many did at home. he liked a challenge

• and Damian was his challenge

• so he wasted so much gas and time and money to visit him.

• he was so whipped

• he was attracted to him. just the way he did things. like goddamn. ok.

• then his friends and him took a trip there. it was Saturday, they were gonna leave on Sunday. it was for Kathy’s birthday. He had no idea why she wanted to go here.

• oh. yeah. The idiots taken in for underaged drinking. Jon didn’t drink. ( he was a good boy and designated driver ) so he was just there trying to get the officers to let his friends off the hook

Damian: oh look, guess the good boy isn’t really a good boy.

Jon: Damian—? No! I’m here to get my friends out!

Damian: figures, you’re too innocent to do bad things.

Jon: what did you do then?

Damian: well wouldnt my you like to know

Dick: Damian! There you are! Sorry, I was calling up some parents- who is this?

Damian: Good boy.

Dick: ah.

Jon: Jon Kent.. nice to meet you

Dick: wait. As in Clark Kent?

Jon: yeah? that’s my dad

Dick: aw your dad used to babysit me

Damian: can we go now

Dick: hush Damian, I’m feeling nostalgic

• so Damian learned jons name. And jon got to see Damian in regular clothes, so that was cool

• he also got in trouble and couldn’t see Damian for a month because his parents were upset about what happened.. understandable, but jon was still upset

Tai: soo, that was him?:)

Jon: shut up

• tai accidentally found out about cashier boy, it was very funny for tai. not Jon. he teased jon for being whipped.

• sure jon liked damian for his looks at first. then he liked him for him.

Jon: dad, some guy named dick said hi

Clark: jon it isn’t— wait-

Jon: he said you babysat him

Clark: really? You saw him, how did he look? I haven’t seen him since he was a kid!

Jon: um. good?

Clark: where did you see him?

Jon: ..the police place

• his parents put a tracker on jons phone. now they were so confused why their son kept going to Giant Beagle in bludhaven. it was. weird.

• they just- was he meeting someone?? why was he doing this? WAS HE GETTING DRUGS? wait. no. it’s jon. jon couldn’t even stand the smell of cigarettes

Lois: jon.. honey.

Jon: yeah?

Lois: why do you keep driving to bludhaven? I’m worried about you and want to make sure you aren’t doing anything.. bad. Or dangerous.

• granted, it was very dangerous going out there, but he liked it. he liked the thrill of when he got to walk damian back sometimes! HE WAS GETTING CLOSER TO DAMIAN!

• oh also. it turns out damian gave him a fake number

• rude.

• damian always warned him though. and tried to make jon not walk far. jon was.. jon was a good boy. he would never survive in bludhaven frequently, jt worried humored damian.

• sometimes jon came by during the day. Damian’s Sunday shift was in the evening while his Saturday one was in the morning. jon got to go get lunch with him sometimes if Damian felt like there were enough people around that would know if he got kidnapped or not

Damian: why do you bother talking to me? most get bored of me and my attitude.

Jon: I find it charming. you’re fun to talk to. you feel so real. almost everyone in my life feels artificial and like I’m living in a disney Chanel movie.

Damian: *he laughed* oh?

Jon, loving Damians laugh rn: yeah! it’s like they’re.. androids or somethin’.

Damian: why don’t you just find someone snarky from metropolis?

Jon: it wouldn’t be as fun then.

Jon: i like a challenge.

• getting to know damian was like trying to beat the hardest level in his game. it was mind blowing how many times he basically had to restart. Damian was also like a Rubix cube, but jon will get there. He already has 1 side done on it.

Jon: so you live with your brother?

Damian: yes.

Jon: nice

• jon didn’t pry. Damian and dick had became forgotten after bruces death, a lot of the kids did. they just all disappeared from the media like ghosts.

• so jon didn’t know that dick wasn’t his blood relative, or that Damian was Bruce’s child. no one really did

• it wasn’t like it mattered though anyways

Damian: basketball is lame.

Jon: have you ever played?

Damian: yes. it sucked ass

• jon has helped Damian restocked late at night sometimes. Damian doesn’t like him touching things, but the faster he does it, faster he can go home to get his pets, alfred, and his idiot brother

Damian: you waste a lot of gas coming to see me.

Jon: it’s worth it.

• jon had to get a job. boo. he worked on days he didn’t have practice and sadly, on sundays.

• he was a worker at a small cafe, he was just a waiter there

• and then one day, on a Sunday, Damian came in with a few people. WAIT DAMIAN CAME IN

Jon: DAMIAN

Damian, clearly startled: what the fuck, jon!

Jon: why’re you here! how long are you staying! ARE TOU REALLY HERE!

Maya: is this who you were talking about?

Damian: shut up.. but calm down, idiot.

Damian: .. you got a haircut.

Jon: you- you noticed? sorry I couldn’t come this week. was busy this week and needed to catch up on sleep.

Damian:’it’s fine. I guess I really should give you my number now.

Colin: that was smooth

Jon: really?

Damian: mhm. after you seat us, dumbass.

Jon: oh right

• and Damian did give jon his number

• a real one dw

Maps: he was cute.. he single?

Maya: he wouldn’t be single if Damian just manned up

Colin: they practically just stared at each other the whole time when they thought the other wasn’t looking

Damian: wait he was looking at me?

Maya: oh damians so whipped.

• oh how the cashier is falling for the waiter

• sounds like a hallmark film.

• next week jon did end up visiting him in ‘haven, and drove him home.

• damians feet were hurting and he was tired so he didn’t even bother to argue.

• jon couldn’t come to visit his favorite cashier during winters a lot, he may of liked his new “dangerous” life, but he heard how bad the roses could get from Damian

• damian was a bit sad and moody because of that. but shut up. you don’t know anything dick

Dick: you know.. you should invite him inside

Damian: so you can embarrass me? no thank you.

Dick: me? embarrass you? never. but come on, you have never shown interested in anyone before! I wanna meet him!

Damian: you already did. At the police station. you forget or something?

Dick: .. that wasn’t really the best first meeting. come on. please?

Damian: no.

#cashier damian #Damian wayne #jon kent #au #rambles #damijon

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

#shinran #kiss prompts #fanfic #lmk anon(s) if you see this and if you do then yaaay #thank you for requesting! #and thank you for reading! #:') #I have a love-hate relationship with this fic #it's only supposed to be 4 scenes #oh well it is what it is lmao #it's ok ig since this is the last (awww) from the kiss prompts! #😌 #I tried so hard with a jealous Ran haha #jealous fics are good reads but writing them is hard :O

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

[melatovnik]

hi, can u rec other sbwy fics?

yes i most certainly can!

below under the cut is a selection of very good sbwy (and sgwy) fics, i.e., wangxian fics where wwx experiences compulsory heterosexuality. by no means is it a comprehensive list of all the excellent fics of this genre, because i'm a super slow reader and simply haven't gotten to them all yet, but these are just the ones i've read and enjoyed so far. of course, mind all tags/content warnings etc you know what's up

~ the Straight Boy Wei Ying universe series by raitala | rated E | 36K words total | i know this ask was prompted by my earlier rec of this series but i'll include it here anyway. a very charming wonderful story, with extremely massively hot sex scenes

Sit down next to me | 7K words

Lan Zhan has been in love with his tragically straight best friend Wei Ying forever. So what if some girl says Wei Ying is a bad kisser? Lan Zhan has to prove to Wei Ying that this is incorrect. Because Lan Zhan is a good friend. He out does himself.

If I hadn't seen such riches | 29K words

Sequel to "Sit down next to me" - if you haven't read this all you need to know is that Wei Ying thinks he is straight. He just really likes his best friend Lan Zhan. Who is incidentally a really great kisser. Who also made him come in his pants one time. Who also has a *really* big dick, which Wei Ying sucked one time, but, like, in an experimental way, not in a gay way. They are just really good friends, right? Lan Zhan is the best. Lan Zhan is crying inside.

~ Keep Up by mimilamp | rated E | 27K words | i actually just read this one today and wwhfoohgkhdghihHHHHHHhghhhhhhgh 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 INSTANT FAVE. MUST READ.

“She was going to kiss me,” Wei Ying says, muffled, into his hands.

Lan Zhan makes sure he keeps his breaths even. “Hm,” he says. Wei Ying looks up at him, wild: a little tipsy, perhaps. Confused, in a panic. His mouth is red like he’s been kissed—he hasn’t. He’s a lip biter, has a habit of picking at his dry lips, the winter sores at the corner of his mouth. It drives Lan Zhan to madness. He dreams of Wei Ying’s puffy mouth, often, sometimes with the real Wei Ying in a sleeping bag on the floor next to his bed. On mornings like those he wakes up in a cloud of embarrassment—hobbling to the bathroom at dawn, running a loud shower to hide the sounds. Wei Ying sleeps on.

“How do I—” Wei Ying starts, stops. He then lets out a single laugh, another. He says: “Oh my god. How do I kiss? Lan Zhan, how do I kiss?”

*

Or: Wei Ying has a girlfriend now. Wei Ying doesn't want his best friend to lag behind.

~ A Brilliant Idea by FrameofMind | rated E | 25K words | good for you wei ying

The one where Wei Ying (straight) and Lan Zhan (gay) make a shared tinder account to save money, because Wei Ying has brilliant ideas.

(Wei Ying has terrible ideas.)

~ worth it for the feeling by occultings | rated E | 8K words | they're both girls in this one! "straight" girl wei ying 🥰

“I’ve never gotten off with another person,” Wei Ying says that night, apropos of nothing.

~ ready to run by detectorist | rated E | 21K words | really really enjoyed the plot and atmosphere and everything in this story

“You should make a Tinder account for campaigning,” Nie Huaisang says.

Wei Ying chokes out, “What?”

“Sounds like an absolutely terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng says flatly.

“No, it’s a great idea!” Nie Huaisang insists. “You just swipe right on everyone and then send them a message about how they should vote for you. You’re hot, Wei Ying! People will definitely match with you and then you can swoop in and hit them with the politics!”

“I don’t even have Tinder,” Wei Ying protests. He’d downloaded the app in first year but had quickly deleted it after a girl responded to his message of wanna get a drink with yeah sure, what time?

“That can be easily fixed,” Nie Huaisang says.

—

Wei Ying downloads Tinder to help him campaign for his student union election. He gets a little more than he bargained for.

~ drop the game by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 28K words | cheerleader wwx + jock lwj + fake dating + practice kissing + insane sexual tension = me, flattened like a cartoon character after getting run over by a truck

Wei Ying grabs a pen from Lan Zhan’s desk, curling his legs into a lotus pose under the arms of the chair so he can easily spread the journal out across his lap. Even upside down, Lan Zhan can read his large, messy characters scrawled across the top: Lan Zhan + Wei Ying’s Rules for Dating.

Perhaps this was a bad idea.

~ big hands (i know you're the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | WHOOF 🥵

“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”

He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.

~ Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | LAN ZHAN???? BETHROTHED???? NOT TO WEI YING??????? it's less likely than you think! canonverse casefic, featuring tons of pining and wwx taking outrageous liberties with lwj's person, as is his right

Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”

~ cherry ass wei ying (Chapter 3 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated E

wei ying is so straight he sucks lan zhan's fingers about it.

~ all(e)y (Chapter 11 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated E

prompt fill on twitter for straight boy wei ying + fake dating that ended up being too long for twitter so now it lives here in stupid silly shame. sorry the fake dating is a complete flyover state in this. to make up for it, i wrote out an entire blowjob for some reason.

~ lan zhan has fallen in fuck-love with the straight toad boy (Chapter 14 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated M | there is no chapter summary provided by the author. the title says it all, really

~ wei wuxian loves mysteries! (Chapter 15 of threadfic) by saltyfeathers | rated G | a canonverse character exploration of wwx, set pre-CR (before wangxian first meet). soooo good

~ the mall that has it all by saltyfeathers | rated E | 8K words | 😳 wrow

She introduced herself in the food court, breathless after sprinting across it in Lan Zhan’s direction and vaulting over a table only to crash into the seat across from her, ask, “Can I have a sip?”, spring forward with both elbows on the table to wrap her burgundy lips around Lan Zhan’s smoothie straw, wrinkle her nose, and say, “What is that, kale? Not really my thing, as like, a mall goth. Oh!” A pleased, chaotic exhale. “My name’s Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan said, after taking a moment to fully process the last forty-five seconds, “What?”

or;

mall goth au

~ I Wish You Would by brooklinegirl | rated E | 52K words | lan zhan fucks guys, wei ying pines, and lan zhan also pines

Lan Zhan takes a breath. His hands are in fists on his thighs. He stares down at them hopelessly, then carefully unclenches them, one finger at a time, before taking another breath and reaching for his lukewarm tea. He'll go out, tomorrow. Maybe in the late afternoon. Something quick. Something easy. He'll text his brother first, the short note of when he should be home, so he'll know to track him. He'll be fine, just like he said.

~ all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words | hot hot hot! and a classic

Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

~ dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | THE comphet gloryhole fic

Wei Ying discovers himself.

~ wanna feel a different kinda tension by verseau | rated E | 10K words | THE comphet watching-porn-together-and-also-wwx-jerks-lwj-off-with-his-own-freshly-used-fleshlight fic

Four times Lan Zhan walks in on his roommate masturbating.

that's all for now! happy october!

#mdzs #fic rec

[izzabeean]

Chapter 10 : Restraint

SUMMARY

You’re very upset after Oikawa sustained injuries from his fight with Oikawa, it almost feels like it’s your fault at this point. You wonder if he blames you for it and hopes there’s a way you can make it up to him.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,099

content : profanity, depiction of injuries

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : hello! sorry for the late chapter, I am moving my publish days to Sunday evenings PST time.

this chapter is a little slow but I am wanting to convey Oikawa's feelings/perspective a little more and hope it isn't too confusing in my writing. please enjoy and Chapter 11 should be up by next Sunday. thanks!!

masterlist

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Last night's misfortune only carried forward onto the next day. This immense guilt protruded through you making sitting in class much more unbearable. And having Oikawa sitting beside you didn’t make it any better as you eye his bruised knuckles in your peripheral; an unforgivable reminder that your ex-boyfriend caused his pain.

Yet, Oikawa still got plenty of attention from his admirers, in fact, you could say he got more. Girls were bombarding him more than usual to find out what transpired, but Oikawa didn’t spare anyone the dirty details and just redirected the conversation to distract them with a coy compliment or flirtatious gesture completely derailing the previous subject matter.

Of all the people in the universe, you never expected Oikawa to be the one to throw a punch at Ushijima. Frankly, you thought his hatred was all talk, another form of teasing to push you and get under your skin. You always brushed off his banter, figuring he didn’t really mean much by it, but after last night, you knew there was more as to why Oikawa didn’t like Ushijima.

You feel like an idiot for never asking, but also for ignoring his warnings. Perhaps this was some kind of punishment for not taking his opinion into account. If you didn’t date Ushijima, Oikawa wouldn’t have ever gotten hurt, you wouldn’t have to deal with a break-up, and you might’ve been in a happier healthier place.

In reality, you were scared asking would open more unresolved doors. And you didn’t know if you wanted to accept any more surprises about Ushijima. It’s terrifying to think that the man you once knew is not the man you knew at all.

The lights of the classroom dimmed as a clip projects at the front of the classroom in regards to today’s lesson, but god knows what it is about. You couldn't pay attention. This feeling of regret lodges in your throat from all the what if’s . But you know all you can do now is find a way to make it up to him…

Oikawa nudges you with his elbow and leans in closer to whisper, “You okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

The feeling of his breath tickles, raising the hairs on your arms. You release your clenched jaw and take a deep breath in, in an attempt to erase the brooding expression on your face then turn to Oikawa. It’s hard to look at him without a sense of anguish filling your chest. Perhaps, your thoughts are filling a narrative only you can imagine and Oikawa doesn’t think any of it is your fault.

“I’m fine,” you regress hoping that he drops it.

But ‘fine’ doesn’t actually mean the dictionary definition of fine. Oikawa knows that. He’s had his fair share of “fines” from girls when they say there are and obviously they’re not. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know what was bothering you. Your eyes would linger every time you looked at him focusing on his bandaged up cheek and for the majority of the class, he could see you staring at his hand. You weren’t very good at hiding your guilt.

With that, he does the only thing he can think of to cheer you up. He takes your pen.

Anticipating a big reaction from you, he waves it away sending you a smirk, but when you continue to sit there eyes illuminated by the faint light from the screen at the center of the room, he pauses. The same tension from last night takes him by surprise. He longs to make things right, to make you happier than you were before. But the image of your smile beaming at Iwaizumi reminds him that he can’t do that. No matter how hard he tries to make you happy, he can’t be Iwaizumi.

Class ends and you begin packing up your things. You still haven’t uttered a word as you keep your eyes locked onto your bag unable to look up at Oikawa.

“Oikawa,” a voice mumbles. A tall brunette girl stands in front of him clasping her hands on the hem of her shirt. “Can I talk to you about something?”

You recognize her. She’s normally seated near the front of the classroom and always has the front pieces of her hair tied back. You never spoke to her but knew she was more of the soft-spoken type that always eyed you and Oikawa entering the room.

“Sure,” he replies, as they walk away to the edge of the room out of earshot.

It becomes apparent at that moment when you watch the interaction between them that she's probably going to confess to him. You can see the nerves in her body language as she caves her chest in and darts her eyes away from Oikawa. Truthfully, you always waited for this day to come and wondered if Oikawa would give her a chance. She’s cute and seems like his type.

Now that you think about it, what is even Oikawa’s type? You’ve always envisioned him with someone well dressed and always put together with sharp features that accentuate her beauty. Someone kind-hearted and gentle, the exact opposite of him. Someone like… Her.

Oikawa stands with his hand on the sling of his bag with his back to you. You can’t see his expressions but can tell he’s instinctively listening as he nods his head. The girl's face grows flush after her rambling comes to a halt and you can tell she’s holding her breath waiting for the answer. You catch yourself doing the same thing as Oikawa speaks. But the girl's demeanor changes from hopeful excitement to stone-faced disappointment. Still, she forces a small smile while Oikawa gives her a small bow before turning to walk to you. She rushes out of the classroom as soon as Oikawa’s back faces her and your stomach drops.

You don’t know the girl, but can’t help but empathize. Not long ago were you on the receiving end of rejection.

“Let’s go,” he says, gesturing to you to hurry up.

You’re still paused in place from watching and close your bag to swing in onto your back following Oikawa out of the classroom. You look around to see if the girl is still in the vicinity but can be seen nowhere in plain sight.

“Why didn’t you say yes?” you ask, finally speaking up.

Oikawa hesitates, uncertain how to answer. He’s never really been interested in any of these girls that ask him out, they're always people he’s never talked to, only seen around.

“Didn’t really know her,” he answers.

“But I see her all the time in class. She literally gawks at you whenever you enter the room. Have you never noticed?”

He did notice but didn’t care enough to talk to her. Honestly, he was over the endless amounts of shallow conversations he had with girls from his high school days.

“Ah, is someone a little jealous,” he teases.

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous about, I’m with you all the time now. I’m kind of getting sick of you,” you grin.

“Ouch, hurtful!” he frowns.

“You didn’t even think she’s cute?” you pester.

He did, but he didn’t want to admit it.

Sure, it’s a great ego booster to have all these girls fawn over him and it never hurt anyone… But only in one encounter would he have probably said yes to someone he just met.

------

The temperature is cold and clammy, as the rain pours when Oikawa walks out of the university building. Hoisting up an umbrella, he prepares to step out into the storm but gets distracted when he sees you sitting off to the side.

You’re hunched over the steps with your backpack sitting next to you, looking out at the dreary weather. There’s no hood on your coat, no umbrella by your side and he can’t help but notice the pouty look on your lovely face. You looked annoyed. But in a cute way, he’s never seen before. As if you were just waiting for someone to save you.

“Someone a little stuck?” he asks.

You turn to look at him. It was almost unbearable how gorgeous you are. Suddenly a wave of nerves crashes through him before you speak.

“It should let up soon,” you reply, returning to watch the droplets plunking onto the concrete.

There’s no way in hell the rain was going to stop anytime soon with this miserable downpour. Plus it’s getting late and soon will be dark, he couldn’t let you stay alone.

He clears his throat, walks up closer to you, and puts the umbrella over you. “Is that some way to tell me you have a boyfriend?”

“Maybe it was just a way to get rid of you,” you smirk, voice laced in irritation. “Did it work?”

Oikawa raises his eyebrow and grins at you, slightly turned on by your hostile response, something he wasn’t used to hearing from girls.

“No,” he flirts, drinking you up with his eyes.

The pitter-patter of the rain fills up the silence and a warm comfort makes him feel that you will soon no longer be strangers.

------

He bites his lip reminding himself of the opportunity he lost, though he was very afraid to ruin your friendship and figured, in time, you would come around. Yet, it wasn’t to him, but to Ushijima. And once again, you’ve found someone of another caliber that wasn’t him. Maybe he needed to move on, but having you around living with him made things so much harder.

“Y/N, the kind of attention I get from the girls is because I’m single,” he continues. “If I get a girlfriend, it could ruin my image.”

You know he’s joking but roll your eyes anyway without sparing him a glance. He’s always been this way since you’ve known him. And even when you first met you could tell he was trouble. When you first met him, you could feel his presence by the shift in the air even before he announced himself. There was always something special about Oikawa. You just couldn’t put your finger on what it was exactly.

“You want to go to that coffee shop we always use to go to? We haven’t been there in ages,” you say, trying to change the subject. “It’s my treat.”

“Wow, are you asking me out?” Oikawa jokes cheekily while fixing his hair. “If I knew this was a date, I probably would’ve dressed more appropriately.”

“This isn’t a date Shittykawa! Just a thank you for…” you look down at his hand. “Plus you’re not my type.”

“What! I’m everyone’s type, Y/N. Just look at me.”

“Mmm, no,” you reply, taking one good look at him.

“So mean, Y/N-chan!

No, he couldn’t possibly destroy your friendship to confess his unrequited love. Everything seemed so much simpler this way.

------

It’s been a while since you last sat down at the coffee shop. Although it was within walking distance from campus, you stopped going as often as you used to when you started dating Ushijima. It had a more industrial feeling to it and less cozy than you remember.

Nonetheless, you order the drinks while Oikawa takes a seat at a table beside the large window looking out to the street. You send him a thumbs up while waiting by the bar and he sends you one back feeling extremely silly upon replicating it. But he doesn’t care because you giggle before turning back to collect the order.

With two drinks in hand, you set them down at the table.

“Hold on, I ordered another,” you interrupt before Oikawa can even utter thanks.

When you return, you sit down placing the third drink to the side of the table.

“Y/N, I’m flattered but you don’t need to buy--”

“Oh, it’s for Iwaizumi,” you cut in. “I told him to meet up with us.”

Oikawa pauses, crossing his arms. “You have his number?”

“Yeah, we exchanged it after that creep bothered me.”

Oikawa is quiet and furrows his eyebrows at you from across the table, trying to give you his best scowl despite the fact that you clearly know what he’s sour about.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you grumble.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” you argue.

Your words feel harsh and Oikawa attempts to swallow his words but instead, they slip out through the tip of his tongue.

“He’s leaving soon…”

"What?" you rasp, a lump starts to form in your throat. Damn Oikawa. Of course, he’s a lot of things, but you didn’t think he’d take his teasing this far. "You’re joking, right?"

“I forgot to tell you… He’s only been here for a week, then he goes back to California soon.”

“Why California?”

If you hadn’t already practiced pushing down your feelings since the break-up, you were sure that you would’ve broken down at that moment. Enough surprises have surfaced to the point the devastating news didn’t circle you into this impending doom. No, all your hope in fate plummeted.

“He goes to school out there. So I wouldn’t get too close,” Oikawa mutters while taking a sip of his drink.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s obvious, you have a crush on him, I’m not stupid.”

You shudder at his words, recognizing that your crush on Iwaizumi is obvious to the point that Oikawa notices it. I mean, you did kiss the guy in front of him, but you thought at this point you were just dreaming since no one has brought it up.

“I don’t--”

“I mean, why else would you kiss him,” he interrupts. “To piss Ushijima off?"

Well duh, you think. That was basically what you were wanting to do. Make him realize you're better off without him and maybe deceive him a bit in regards to why life is just so much better.

However, you couldn't persuade yourself to actually say it. You already gave away too much and know if you say anything more it will just give Oikawa more ammunition to tease you.

"If you really wanted to piss him off, you would’ve kissed me,” he continues.

Suddenly your heart thumps and pupils constrict at the comment. The tension twists in the room and you swallow hard as the pressure to say something wells up in your chest.

Why did he just say that? Is this a joke?

And perhaps it was confusion mixed with fatigue from a long stressful day but you couldn't suppress the frustration that wells up inside. It wasn't funny to you. None of this was funny. You were serious.

“Not likely," you hiss. "Why don't you try being in the same room as your lying ex with their new partner and tell me, Oikawa, what would you do?"

He stiffens at the tone of your voice. He's not used to you calling him by his last name, it's only when you're really mad. Oikawa opens his mouth to say something but remains quiet. He doesn’t quite know what to say as you’re visibly upset. He fucked up.

He looks at you, you won’t make any eye contact with him as you look off to the side. Your fingers are wrapped around the hot cup of coffee, probably to warm your hands up because they’re always so cold. You’re wearing his favorite sweater, it’s his favorite because you always look so good in it-- not that you don’t always look good-- but when you wear this particular sweater it makes him happy.

“How’s your wrist?” he asks, casually to break the tension.

“It’s fine,” you reassure, still put off by him.

“Can I see it?”

Oikawa reaches out his hand to which you recoil pulling it away from your cup and onto your lap out of his sight.

“Please,” he pleads.

You blink at words as he gazes at you with his puppy-eyes. Surely he didn’t mean what he said and you were just being sensitive, and it was very, very hard for you to stay mad at him. But you still hesitate as you rest your hand on the table and roll up your sleeve enough to see the bruising. Oikawa analyzes it then gently grazes his fingertips over your wrist. Your heart pounds against your chest at his tender touch.

“Does that hurt?”

“No.”

You gulp quietly, surprised by the change in dynamic. Your anger suddenly dissipates and an unexplained warmth cascades through your body like a breath of fresh air. Your eyes frantically search for an answer to why you’re feeling this way, but before you can you’re interrupted.

“Yo--”

You both look up to see Iwaizumi loom over you both. You feel your cheeks burn up like you’re caught in the act of something scandalous and your guilt sinks in on you.

“Oh, hi Iwa,” you manage to mutter. Suddenly you don’t feel Oikawa’s touch anymore. You look back to see him pull back with a smile on his face gazing at Iwaizumi.

"Iwa-chan, Y/N got you a drink," Oikawa smirks, sliding the drink towards him.

Iwaizumi's eyes shift to you and suddenly goosebumps form on your arms. His stare is always so intense but not in a bad way, more like you want to melt into a puddle. And you almost do, when he thanks you for the drink.

In the midst of your one-sided moment, your phone rings. Excusing yourself, you walk outside to take the call to which it's your landlord announcing your apartment is almost fixed. Excitement fills your chest as you think about moving back in and having your own space again. But there's also this painful feeling from when Oikawa revealed that Iwaizumi is only temporarily here. It makes you sick to know what you thought was fate actually wasn't at all.

It makes your kiss ever more embarrassing as you know feelings can't be reciprocated at all. You wish you'd known sooner and don't understand why you didn't see this happening.

Walking back inside the cafe, you notice Iwaizumi sitting beside Oikawa. You sat down across from both of them and it almost felt you were on trial as they stared at you.

"Who called?" Oikawa asks.

"Oh, my landlord said my place is almost ready and that I can swing by to see it."

"When?" Oikawa

"I was thinking maybe some time tonight," you say.

"Want us to go with you?" Iwaizumi offers.

"Th-- that would be great.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime