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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Prelude to a Kiss

Pairings: Camboy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Camboy!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: A chance encounter with two handsome men at a bookstore brings some much needed excitement to your normal routine. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: F/lirting, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), pet name, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers being both gentlemen and menaces (they're warnings, okay?). A/N: Welcome to my Showtime AU! Excited to share my first "actual" Stucky x Reader AU and for our reader to come into her own. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Thanks to @sgt-seabass, @rookthorne, and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me scream about this introduction. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a normal afternoon when you went into the bookstore, the familiar quiet greeting you as the door shut. You ventured into the shop every couple of weeks to find new books to read. The man behind the desk didn't bother to lift his head long enough from his phone to greet you. You would think after your first few visits he'd at least offer you a smile or suggestion, but he never did. You were used to guys not giving you much attention.

Too ordinary to stand out, I guess.

No, you wouldn't think of yourself that way. Just because most guys tended to gravitate toward your friends instead of you didn't mean anything was wrong with you. The right person would come along and take notice.

"I am a catch," you whispered to yourself as you walked through the shelves.

And a bit lonely.

Your phone dinged before you could dwell on that thought, smiling as your best friend's name popped up. It faded quickly when you read her message. The two of you had a dinner date, but the new guy she was seeing had tickets to some show. You understood. You really did.

Except you were the friend who always seemed to get ditched when a guy came along.

"Have fun!" you sent back. "We'll catch up later."

At least you could get a jump start on a new book and curl up on the couch for the evening. Like you did most nights. Lather, rinse, repeat. When did your life become so monotonous?

"Romance it is," you mumbled as you reached for a blue book on the shelf.

You turned it over to read the blurb on the back, a small smile on your face as you walked down the aisle. From the simpering heroines to feisty protagonists, you enjoyed immersing yourself in the emotions that poured from the pages as the heroes fought to get their girls. Confident, broody, flirty, alluring, you loved them all and wondered if such men you read about existed.

"Oh!"

For a second, you thought you walked into one of the shelves before you realized you bumped into a person. A very large person who didn't budge, even as a couple of books fell to the ground. You dropped to the floor immediately to retrieve them. Why hadn't you been paying attention?

"Oh, my god. I'm so sorry," you said as the guy crouched down to help.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said, his velvety voice making you lift your head.

In front of you was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Long, brown hair, close to his shoulders, framed his face and your mouth went dry as you found yourself staring into his bright blue eyes. You couldn't help but notice the smile on his face as he offered you his hand and effortlessly pulled you to your feet, your cheeks hot as he steadied you. He took up more than half the aisle with his muscular frame and you knew then that a god existed among men.

Like he stepped right out of one of these novels.

"I-I'm sorry," you said again, your gaze going to his hands as he fixed the stack of books he was carrying. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."

"It's okay," he smiled, looking you up and down with a slow and steady gaze. "You can bump into me again if you want. I don't mind."

You nearly dropped the book in your own hand as you stepped back, his smile shifting to a smirk. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was flirting with you. That couldn't be the case though.

"Oh, you are fucking adorable," he said in a low voice, quickly looking behind him. "Stevie, get over here. Found something special."

"What did you find?" The deep timbre that rang out made your knees weak.

You let out a shaky breath when an Adonis walked around the corner. Just as large as the brunette, but with shorter blonde hair, a smile didn't reach his brilliant blue eyes as he strode over. Instead of light scruff like the man you bumped into, he donned a trimmed beard. He had to shift just to fit beside his friend and you nearly shrank under his gaze. You tried not to openly gape, not knowing which one of them to concentrate on.

So, two gods among men. Like something out of a wet dream. Do I look at the veins in their arms? Do I stare at their chests? How do they even fit in their shirts? Did they purposely choose something that matched their eyes?

The brunette smirked again and gave a single nod toward you. "This precious gem here bumped into me."

You nearly melted to the floor as heat rushed to your face again. The pet name had your head spinning. Or maybe it was the intoxicating scent of their cologne. "It was an accident and I apologized."

The blonde softly smiled at that, but his eyes held a spark of mischief. "I'm sure it was, but I know Buck is not sorry that you bumped into him."

"Not sorry at all," he confirmed.

You shifted your weight and wondered if the bookstore was always so hot or if it was just them. Your skin heated up more under your clothes and your heart beat faster under their attention. Part of you wished you had a bottle of water to dump over your head and cool off. You didn't even want to think about being sandwiched between them because your legs would likely give out.

"Buck and Stevie?" you asked.

"That's what we call each other. I'm Bucky and that's Steve," the brunette smiled, nodding to the blonde. "Can call us Sarge and Cap if you want."

You couldn't put your finger on it, but something about them seemed familiar. Like you had either seen them somewhere or heard of them in passing, but that couldn't be the case. No, you would have remembered them.

Men like them were unforgettable.

"It's nice to meet you," Steve said, giving you an expectant look.

You told them your name after a second and you hoped you didn't look weird when you blinked a few times. You were trying to make sure you were awake and not dreaming. Because who bumped into two gorgeous men like this in a bookstore? That wasn't your life.

Except, today, it was.

“I really should have been looking where I was going. I mean, you're not hard to miss," you said, doing your best not to ogle at Bucky. "Neither of you are. I mean that in a good way."

"You aren't hard to miss either. I also mean that in a good way," Bucky smiled.

"I agree," Steve said, his eyes sweeping over you before you glanced at yourself.

You wondered what they saw exactly. It wasn't that you looked bad. You always left your place with confidence in your appearance. You just weren't used to most guys looking anymore.

Or maybe, just maybe, some are and I'm the one who isn't paying attention.

Bucky gently pried the book from your hand, his fingers lingering against yours. "And I'd like to pay for that."

"Oh, no. You don't have to," you argued as he added the book to his pile.

You noticed then that he held a couple of science books while Steve had novels on art. It intrigued you as both were fascinating subjects in their own way. You had a feeling both of them were the same way: captivating, wondrous, and deep.

"I want to."

"A gentleman would ask to get her a drink, too," Steve teased.

"I don't know if I'm a gentleman," Bucky mused as he looked at you. "But I would also like you to have a drink with us. Then I'll accept your apology."

What would the sassy heroine say in this situation?

"I-" you almost sputtered.

Not that.

"Now you're just being mean, Buck. It was an accident and she apologized," Steve chastised, but he smiled at you.

"I'm not," Bucky swore, clutching his chest with one hand. "Hurts right here where you bumped me. A drink with you would make us both feel all better."

Steve regarded you carefully. "Unless you have a boyfriend you need to get back to. Or girlfriend."

You couldn't help licking your lips, not knowing just how enticing the gesture was. It was dizzying to be on the receiving end of their stares again, yet you couldn't tear your eyes away as you looked between them. Was it wrong to enjoy the attention these strangers were giving you?

"No, I'm not seeing anyone," you said.

And no rings on their fingers, but no way can they be single.

Instead of turning to walk the other way, Bucky moved forward and bent his head. "Lucky us," he whispered against your ear before he brushed past you. "Mmm. You smell sweet. Like flowers," he added over his shoulder.

You bit back a whine before Steve gave you an assuring smile. You admitted to yourself earlier that you were lonely. Had you sent out some sort of vibe to the universe to get them to talk to you? Or did you manifest them into existence?

"I hope we aren't making you uncomfortable. Buck can come on a little strong when he sees something he wants," Steve said as he gently put a hand on your back to guide you. "Though I can't say I blame him in this case."

“No, it’s okay. He seems nice," you said, smiling to yourself at the compliment. "Even if he needs a drink to accept an apology.”

Steve's chuckle had you shivering as you made your way to the front of the store. "A drink he plans to pay for along with your book," he said, adding his small stack to the pile on the desk.

Standing behind them was a mistake as your gaze went right to their asses. You wondered if your friends would believe you if you told them about the two perfect specimens who could be models if they wanted to. Maybe they were since you had no clue what they did.

Stop staring. Don't think about grabbing their asses. Did they paint their jeans on? God, I need to get laid.

As if Bucky knew you were looking, he glanced over his shoulder and winked. You averted your gaze after that. He was clearly the more playful of the two, but something in his eyes told you he was a man you should take seriously. And Steve? You didn't ever want to be on the receiving end of upsetting or disappointing him.

Not like I'll ever find out. They're not actually taking me for a drink. They'll go their way and I'll go mine.

Bucky thanked the cashier before he turned and handed you your book with a card on top. "Stevie and I are gonna grab a drink at The Howling Commandos in a half hour if you wanna join us. It's just around the corner," he explained as you moved away from the counter. "If not, there are our numbers if you ever wanna chat. Just spare me the heartache and wait 'til we leave before you throw it out."

You curiously ran a finger over the card. It had both Bucky and Steve's names on them, but no business listed. It intrigued you even more now.

Who are you two?

"Thank you for buying my book. You really didn't have to do that," you said, touched that he was kind enough to do that. "And I'm not going to throw your card out."

No one in their right mind would do something like that.

"Thank you. I would've had to listen to him whine all night," Steve said, nudging his friend.

"Not all night. Most of it," Bucky teased. "And it was nothing. Does that mean you'll join us for a drink?" he added, his tone casual, but his gaze hopeful.

I would let you both devour me and I wouldn't object.

"You're really asking me?"

"Yeah, we are," Steve answered, his gaze almost as soft as Bucky's.

You wondered if it was a good idea. As charming as they were, you didn't know them. They didn't give you bad vibes though or the impression that they were playing a prank. Your gut told you to take a chance. Because your couch and books would always be there, but how many opportunities like this would you get?

Maybe they see that I'm a catch. And if it's just a drink and nothing more, it's nice to make new friends.

"I'll join you," you replied, your heart racing when they both smiled. It gave you the boost of confidence to flirt back a little. "If only to spare your feelings."

Both of their eyebrows shot up when you giggled and you took great pleasure in them laughing with you, like the three of you were sharing a private joke.

"Careful, little gem," Bucky smiled as he held the door open for you. "You might just make us fall in love."

"Might?" Steve smiled as they headed out, too. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it."

You managed not to stumble onto the sidewalk at their words. They were just being charming. It had to be. God, they were lethal.

How am I going to survive having drinks with them if they keep flirting like that?

"See you in thirty minutes," you said as you regained your composure.

"Don't be late."

"Otherwise Steve will have to punish you," Bucky winked before they turned and walked away, leaving you awestruck where you stood.

Welp. There go my panties.

So, how long before it takes them to ruin you? And how long before you find out what they do for a living? Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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fairytsuk1 · 1 year

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getting katsuki gifts for the holidays was like trying to teach a monkey to dance, it was impossible.

you'd whined, mumbling about how the two of you had enough money to buy most items you wanted; katsuki also never seemed to never ask for things specifically.

"so, katsuki... the holidays are coming up!"

he's picking at his ordered in take-out, and you can see his displeasure at the lack of peppers as he picks through his kung pao chicken.

"yeah, already got your gift," and he's giving you smirk that makes you sweat, "are you sure you got the right chicken? this shit tastes like the fuckin' kids menu."

your eyes get caught on the wedding band wrung around his fingers, sailing the veins of his forearm till you can see his bulging biceps in the black muscle shirt. was your husband hand-carved by gods? seemed likely.

"mmm, no, it should be the kung pao chicken, want me to chop some chilies up for you?"

you're standing before he can protest, taking out your knives and chopping boards, "and you already have my gift? I don't have your gift, yet."

the box of take-out is set down as your husband circles his arm around your waist to leave soft kisses on the column of your neck.

"yeah, 'cause you don't love me," and a thankful hand squeezes your ass just to show his appreciation for the chopping of chilies, "...whatcha gonna get me?"

his hands are still wandering, and you're thinking more of what his talented fingers could do than his stupid gift, "i'm not supposed to tell, you know. santa's elves might get me into a whole lotta trouble."

he gropes you even more fiercely, and you can feel his pressing need against your back.

"fuck santa,"

he carries you off in a fit of giggles to your shared bedroom.

the bookstore was fairly crowded and you felt thankful you could slip by unnoticed and browse the various books of romance or sci-fi; katsuki didn't even seem like a sci-fi guy so each row left you feeling panicky and like a bad wife the further and further you went.

"excuse me, do you have any classical romance?"

the timbre of the voice makes your heart stop. It sounded just like, well, katsuki! your legs are thrumming with the knee-jerk reaction to tackle him to the ground, but you were literally buying his gift! the surprise would be ruined, and you're dashing into the row of cookbooks to calm yourself.

maybe it's not even him. you know what they say, just because it sounds like katsuki doesn't mean it is! you're affirming yourself silently when footsteps grow close, and your husband is flashing by you in seconds.

it is katsuki!

"i'm fucked."

your eyes follow the object of your love, his strong hands randomly pick books out of nowhere, but there's grumbles of displeasure as he skims the summary and grimaces at the cover. he didn't know that much about books, but you deserved something special.

you'd dealt with all the hero stuff (being gone for long periods of time and coming home nearly dead was no news to you), always made him lunch or dinner, and frankly... katsuki found his eyes drifting to a sleeping baby in its stroller.

he'd started thinking more like that. so the gift had to be pretty damn good!

a man strikes up conversation, and you smile at the idea that katsuki wasn't just factually married, but he gave that aura too. yeah, that was your man.

"i'm shoppin' for my wife," straight to the point and he's already grumbling at having to interact with this person for more than a minute.

"wow! a true husband, what's with the books then? looking to open your marriage?"

it's a joke that katsuki doesn't find funny, you do however and you're sure this conversation would be going very differently.

"fuck no. i'm just lookin' for somethin' good," there's a brief pause in his words, and katsuki looks askance at having to provide a reason why, "she does a lot for me. want her to know I appreciate it."

a beating heart is soothed by the words. your hormones run wild at his mild love declaration, and you're grinning like a mad man.

katsuki wakes up on christmas morning to find his absolute favorite thing; you.

and the book he got was pretty damn good, too.

#bnha imagines #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia smut #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia smut #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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starcrossedreaders · 1 year

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Grossly Dependent

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst with fluff at the end, self doubt, injury

Authors note: YOU GUYS MATTER! Don’t let anyone else convince you other wise. There will always be someone out there that loves you. <3

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

I never meant to get myself in this situation. Being noisy had it’s perks till it didn’t, and currently I was suffering from the down fall of Fae hearing.

“Honestly, my condolences go out to whoever her mate is, it must be hard to be putting up with such a dependent mate.” Hushed voices turned into giggles that escaped their lips.

I never knew my co-workers to be so cruel. Was I really that dependent on Azriel? Does he hate it? He never seemed to hate it, but he isn’t the shadow master for no reason.

My mind was processing 100 thoughts at once, like waves coming up and washing away any self respect I had. I let out a sadden sigh, threw up the wall to the bond and got to shelving books.

I had worked longer tonight in hopes to clear my mind before I face my mate but all attempts had failed miserably. If anything, it made it worse. I thought to every time I had needed his help and how he reacted, this only resulted in me to drop the books in my arms, or almost fall off of the stool I needed to use to reach the highest shelves. Maybe they were right. Azriel had been the soul reason I left my bed when the sun rose. The reason I had worked so hard to make a better life for myself, the reason I was living not just existing. But maybe, just maybe I’m only living because of he has helped me every step of the way, from wrapping my hand when I burned it, to holding me through the late hours of the night when I was having a hard day.

As I was getting ready to close the bookstore a notably handsome male walked through the doors. Tall, somewhat well built with blond hair that swept his face and blue eyes. Nothing he has would beat Azriel and all of his artistry. I often found myself comparing my mate to the art we would see on our dates, nothing can beat him; the art was as close as one could get.

“Hi welcome in, may I help you find anything?” I smile at him as he walks up to register. As I walked up he eyed me up and down taking in my figure, creep.

“Well of course, do you guys have any history books?” He tilted his head to the side taking more time to observe me.

“Right this way. Are you looking for a certain book?” I started walking towards the designated section as he stated the title of his book.

When we made it to the spot I scanned the binds of the books to, of course to find the book to be on the top shelf. As I go to reach it on the tips of my toes my fingers nearly grazing the thick bind, I lost balance. As I began to tip backwards and tripping on my own feet the male behind me braced me by the waist. I clenched my eyes shut hoping to hide from my embarrassment. After a few heart beats I began to back away only for the male to strengthen his grip of me.

“You can let go now,” I looked up to him giving him a deadpanned look. He looked back at me grinning slightly.

“No ‘thank you’ for saving you?” His arrogant manner was starting to get on my nerves.

“Thanks. You can let go now,” I tried to push his hands off of me. Everything about his hands on me gave my stomach a twist. It’s not my mate, in no way shape or form.

He tried to pull me closer until shadows swept pass us going straight towards my ankles and arms to protect me.

Azriel.

“She said to let go. You have 3 seconds to let go or your hands are mine.” His cold voice sent shivers up my spine.

The male growled, ripped his hands from my waist and angerly walked out.

He had saved me once again, I was truly and utterly defenseless. Being oh so dependent on my mate, once again. The chills from my spine soon felt like hot lava pouring down on my spine. Anger, blind rage and anger surged through me.

“Are you okay my love? Did he hurt you?” His protective, yet warming words reached my ears.

“I’m fine.” I curled my fists and walked past him to close the store. I know I shouldn’t be so cold towards my mate, especially after he saved me. But my co-workers words kept repeating in my mind.

Dependent.

“Are you sure? You seem kind of upset,”

“I said I’m fine Az, let me close the store and then we can go home.” I left no room for him to try again as I began my closing duties. Azriel just sent a warm loving feeling down the bond that I embraced. I sagged my shoulders as I counted the money.

As my mates feet touched the ground I was off to the kitchen to start dinner. I didn’t really want to talk about today, or how I was feeling for that matter. I went to occupy my mind again in hopes to better myself for my mate.

Starting dinner took a lot of work and restraint to not just go fall into our bed and sleep for the rest of my immortal life. I truly don’t know why I was feeling this way, Azriel was the best mate I could have ever asked for, even if he was little overbearing and protective. He can’t help it, working for the High Lord is never easy and his work brings a lot of threats around but still. Nesta and Feyre are never this dependent on their mates, in fact most of the time they were the ones to wear the pants in the relationship. Rhys gave Feyre time and knows she can handle herself. Cassian knows how Nesta is and respects that she is as independent as they come. Azriel...

Before I could finish my thought a sharp wave of pin surged through my hand. Lost in my thoughts I hadn’t realized that the knife was so close to my finger and I sliced it open. It took a minute to fully understand what happened and then the strong copper sent wafted up in the air. The shadow Az left to make sure I was okay was gone before I could blink and Az was booming down the stairs after I opened my eyes.

I stood up straight and faced my back towards him as I began to rinse out the wound.

“Y/N, are you okay, is the cut deep, what happened?” So, so, many questions

dependent.

The words rattled throughout my skull.

“I’m fine, I can handle it on my own. You don’t have to be protecting me all the time Az. Nothing is going to happen to me if you look away for one second. S-So just go finish your work or whatever you were doing, I can do this myself.” The words stumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, and soon after the air become still.

“Love...” Love rushed down the bond as he face turned from concerned to hurt. I couldn’t handle that look.

I go to walk past him but he flung his wing out stopping me in my tracks.

“Talk to me, Love. Why do you feel this way,” His shadows left to get the first aid-kit leaving us to each other. His beautiful hazel eyes bored into me. My bottom lip began to quiver as tears rose to my eyes and my throat burned. Az was quick to bring his hand to my cheek, wiping the running tears away. I place my hand on top of his and leaned into his touch. He connected his forehead to mine in hopes that my thoughts would pour into his mind.

“Talk to me.” He whispered hot breath ran down my face as he slide his thumb back and forth on my cheek.

“Every day, all I hear is how reliant I am on you. For the longest time I refused to listen to their words. I thought you enjoyed being there for me as much as I do for you but then, you introduced your friends to me. Gods they looked so happy with their mates. Both sisters being strong and independent, if anything their mates needed them. Sometimes I wonder if you want something like that, a person to lean on.... not a burden,” I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. How did I just confess that to my mate...

Az pulled back letting out a sigh and he began to work on bandaging my finger.

“My mate, my lovely mate. How could you ever be a burden, I don’t think you realize how much you lift me up as much I lift you up. We help each other in different aspects of our lives. You helped me with my insecurities, my hands, self destructive thoughts, showing that I do deserve your love. Remember when we first met?” He lets out a small life and I grinned a little.

“Yea, I do,”

“You tripped on cauldron knows what with a coffee in one hand and books in the other. You just so happened to be graced by my chivalrous acts and I saved you. That day I knew, just knew you were my mate. Even if you fall hundred times over I would never change you for the world. Mother has blessed me with you and I could never thank her enough. You are enough, you are wanted, and you are most certainly not. a. burden. So get those thoughts out of your head,” Az finished wrapping my finger as he placed a soft kiss on the cut.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel angst

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semischarmed · 1 year

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Bookstore

I chuckled leading Ryan down the steps.

“Cmon, should just be down this alley”.

It always rained in the city, but the clouds seemed to be just a bit darker, the water pouring just a bit heavier down the alleyway. Neon signs from outcast shops and suspicious eyes peered across window covered blinds.

Ryan was clearly uncomfortable. “Look dude, this place doesn’t even show up on a map. You sure they’re not gonna harvest our organs or something?”

I laughed.

“Sash wanted another book from this store for her birthday, right?” The corners of his mouth pulled, confirming. “Same kind that I got her for Christmas”? This time, a nod. “Well, you can’t really get these kinds of books from a regular store… you have to know a guy” I winked, running my hand over his shoulder and pulling him close to me in a joking fashion.

The smell was divine. The man must have just had a gym session before coming to me. Among the scent of the rain and city, his musk penetrated, clinging to my nose. An earthy, almost acrid scent graced my lungs. I squeezed him tighter to me, involuntarily. A second later, I felt another scent permeate my soul. It filled me with indescribable envy and dizzying lust, and I felt my mouth salivate at what could only be a gust of the damp air from inside his shorts, escaping through a small crack from when I had pushed his body closer to mine. I realized far too late that I was clinging onto him.

His face was not amused. Ryan grunted and distanced himself slightly, avoiding invoking the past few moments between us.

Ryan grimaced before sighing, cutting the silence. “Yeah man, I guess. Honestly, I don’t even know if it’s worth it at this point. He pondered for a moment, thinking of the hours she spent reading and rereading from that old book, transfixed, mesmerized. This was definitely what he needed to take their relationship to the next step. “Of course it is.” He seemed to mentally note.

Sasha was always really good at attracting amazing guys. Kind, charming, guys straight out of movies seemed almost drawn to her. Of course, they were never really her type- she always seemed to like them a little nerdy.

That all changed with Ryan. Just after Christmas, he caught sight of her reading from an old book at a cafe, offered her a drink and a chat, and for the first time in her life, she reciprocated his advances.

Ryan was patient and gentle. He often brought flowers, asked about her day, took her on dates. I felt a bit of resentment from him, as Sasha didn’t seem particularly romantic, and often invited me to their dates, almost bringing Ryan to me for “approval”. He seemed to take it all in stride though, remaining friendly and cordial and often including me in their conversations.

“We’re here” I stated flatly. In front of us stood a dingy black door, dimly lit by a small, flickering bulb. I stared at Ryan for a reaction. He gulped, before calmly placing his hands on the door. It nudged slightly, whining. He gestured for me to help him.

We both pushed into the creaky door that seemed to lead into an infinite void. Blackness swallowed us both before the door slammed shut and the room seemed to illuminate.

The bookstore seemed larger on the inside, row upon endless row decorated with looming shelves and ornate books. A gentle, woody scent lingered through the air, pulling us deeper.

“So.. how did you even find out about this place?” He asked as stared in awe at each shelf.

This time, I shrugged, holding a smile. “I know a guy”.

Ryan inspected each book closer- not a single one numbered or lettered. He pulled a stool from nearby before staring again at one of the nondescript books.

“None of these have any titles?” He asked.

I hid another smile as I innocently asked him to try one.

As he pulled a book from the shelf, he seemed to be acutely aware of the dust accumulating on the spine. He brushed the spine slowly before the title of the book revealed itself: “Ryan Weathers”. Ryan looked back at me, incredulous.

“W-what the fuck”? he laughed gently. He opened the page to inspect the words, and I watched as dread began to paint his face. “This… this is me… this is my story” he gently said. Without warning, he immediately began to thumb through the pages to look at the end of the book, only to be met with blank pages. He frowned as he continued slower this time, working backwards until he finally found the last written page. “Ryan entered the bookshop”.

———

“Weird”, I stated. This time, I couldn’t pull my smile. “Can I see?“ I unsheathed a pen from my pocket in anticipation.

I quickly pulled the Ryan book from his grasp and greedily wrote a few lines. Ryan turned back in horror and stared. He could no longer move.

I quickly showed him the results on the pages of his book. “Ryan sat still, awaiting his friend’s orders”. I scribbled a few more words, and huffed in slight heat.

A bead of sweat formed on Ryan’s temple, as he slowly began to undress. I followed suit, placing my bag on the floor and pulling out a book.

“Dude… dude… what is this?” He asked softly.

I pulled a book from behind me- Sarah’s book, waving it in front of his face with a smile. I inched my naked form closer to his “Sarah really picked a good one, didn’t she?”I leaned up to Ryan, pulling his naked form around me and moaning as I wrapped his arms over my shoudlers.. “Thank you for getting a nice pump before coming here.” Ryan couldn’t move as I began to caress each of his biceps, running my tongue across and picking up his post-workout funk. Divine.

I slammed my face into his armpit, smearing a thin layer of his acrid essence across myself. I huffed as I continued. I intertwined our hands together and wrote a few more words onto his book. “Fuck bro, we’re gonna smell so nice.” We said in unison.

I grabbed another book off the shelf- this time it had my name. Ryan’s eyes worriedly scanned my pages for a clue as to what I’d do next. I used our intertwined hands to pull another item off my bag and held it up for both of us to see- this time it was a pair of scissors.

I gingerly cut a few pages off my book and looked expectantly at Ryan. Despite being unable to move or speak, his eyes relayed volumes. They were wide and hate-filled, and seemed to threaten me. I almost stopped at that moment in fear of what he’d do to me after he broke free. The fear was unfounded though, as he could only calmly sit in silence and watch in terror.

I continued, pulling myself up to his damp form and grinding our bodies together. Of course, Ryan would not reciprocate, but it was enough run my brain feral in lust. I rushed even faster as I could feel Ryan’s now-damp warm body breathing heavier in rage. I continued until I felt a pull from myself and wave after wave of cum splattered among both or bodies. I swiped a bit, huffing in heat as I ran it across his mouth.

Ryan’s eyes squinted in sheer disgust as he was forced to taste me, before I pulled my finger from his mouth. “Need both to complete the ritual” I laughed. Ryan could only looked shocked, likely thinking the main event was over.

I grabbed a few of my pages and hastily smeared our saliva and cum mixture across Ryan’s page. His eyes widened as I stuck my pages into his book, glued by our concoction. Ryan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head slightly and he felt is body push closer to mine involuntarily.

When his eyes opened, He saw our now-shared arm flexing. I reran my tongue across my new Ryan-bicep, moaning as we both felt the touch of my tongue. We were connected now. I looked back and saw pleading this time from Ryan’s eyes.

Ignoring his silent pleas, I pulled another batch of pages from my book, swiping them in the mixture of sweat and my cum across both our bodies before pasting them on Ryan’s book.

Again, Ryan’s eyes pulled back and I began to feel his vascular legs as my own.

I ran our shared arm across my new legs, shivering in shrill delight at the feel of Ryan’s musculature.

Rabid with ecstasy, I could no longer controlled myself and started tearing page after page of my own book and interweaving it into Ryan’s. He began to vocalize soft protests as he felt his flesh betray him and begin to encapsulate me. I almost drowned in the scent of Ryan’s thick musk, interweaving and dulling my senses.

Before I realized, I had cleaned our sweaty body of my cum, and was left with half my book. I could still feel Ryan’s other arm finish swallowing my own inside him as we continued to slowly meld. Drunk and mad with the power of Ryan’s body becoming mine, I leaned my sweaty back to his cheek, feeling the safety of his warm body lull me to sleep.

———

When I awoke I could feel the furious Ryan next to me, desperately trying to move our arms and legs in vain. “Sorry bro” I lazily stated. My words now felt like a mix of Ryan’s and my own- a testament to how far combined we were. “Got lost in our sauce”. I chuckled with his laugh.

I could feel Ryan’s penis poking inside me, its imprint hanging limply on my belly. He caught sight of it too, and began to slightly move his head in protest as he could feel my thoughts relay what would happen next-

I gingerly used our new hands across my belly, pinching and prodding until I could feel Ryan’s dick imprint securely through my flesh.

With a wide smile and a moan, I began to use my own flesh as a sleeve over his dick, rubbing back and forth and thickening. At this, Ryan couldn’t help but moan as well. His head shook back and forth next to mine, clearly attempting to avoid the rush of our joint masturbation session.

He thrashed in vein as I felt his dick quickly stiffen and begin to prod into my belly.

I could barely keep my mental clarity from my senses being bombarded with lust and bliss. With shaking hands, I guided Ryan’s arms to gently squeeze and slot his thickening dick over mine.

At that, we both vocalized a lustful “FUCK”.

The heat and the sensations were unreal, as his dick continued to grow inside of mine, I felt myself push into my absolute limit. I screamed another fuck as I continued to pump with my Ryan arms, feel his cum exit my piss slit.

The feeling of Ryan’s warm batter coming out of me was unreal, and I barely escaped another bought of unconsciousness. Ryan was not so lucky, and I felt his sweaty head slump down next to mine. I hummed gently in his voice as I continued to work, this time using Ryan’s own cum to glue the rest of my pages into his book.

I watched my flesh begin to discolor and shape, following the contours for Ryan’s own. His torso began to push through my own and in a treating sensation I felt my flesh reconnect- now showing Ryan’s body from torso-down.

I shivered in shrill delight- this body… our body… *my* body. *I* was Ryan now-

I felt his sweaty head stir awake, and his cheek lean into mine. From his face, I could feel the corners of his lips pull into a smile. Ryan began huffing as his own face began to encapsulate my own, and the last bit of resistance of the old Ryan- small tear in our right ear slowly dribble down our cheek. I wiped the drool off our shared mouth and promptly collapsed as one being.

When I awoke, I began to pick up Ryan’s book- *my book* and wrote a few more words cementing his role as my personal meat-suit to eternity. I rewrote some passages from Sasha’s book undoing her spell before placing both our books back on the shelf and watching in delight as the titles began to fade.

I ran my hands across my new face- Ryan’s face before putting on his clothes and promptly leaving the bookstore a new man.

—————

The pics could probably use some work… Happy 2023!

#male possession #male merge

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riabriyn · 9 months

Text

⊹ ࣪ ˖—Bookstore boy

ft. [surprise] haikyuu setter x reader

genre: fluff, a sprinkle of angst

Part 2 here !

Love. Love is portrayed in many ways, whether it be love toward your family, love towards your friends, or love towards your fur baby.

Y/n had no problem with any of that, except for one, love with your special someone. That, Y/n had no clue of.

Most people her age have gone around and experienced love, but the case is different for her.

Despite being out in the world, free from the shackles of her parent's rules, she prefers to stay in her apartment watching romance movies to her heart's content.

Lots of people would question her, such as how her aunt would never fail to ask every Thanksgiving “If you love romance movies so much, why don't you experience it for yourself?”— it's not that easy Y/n thinks, after all the fairytales she's read, her standards seem to have skyrocketed to the point that no man can reach them, or so she believes.

[2: 11 pm, Public library]

The bells from the door chime as Y/n enters the quaint yet cozy library. She is welcomed with the scent of books old and new alike being turned over by the other frequent patrons.

Looking around you smile at the familiar faces you often see at the library.

Though one unfamiliar face caught your eye, a man sitting at the far corner of the reading space, he seemed completely absorbed in his book; his facial expression constantly changing as he proceeds to read.

You find yourself chuckling at how adorable this stranger was.

Suddenly his eyes met yours, and you both stare at each other for what felt like an eternity until you realize that the stranger had probably noticed you staring at him.

Embarrassed, you turn around and walk in the opposite direction, away from the stranger.

You went on with your afternoon, trying to shake off the embarrassment you experienced a couple of minutes ago.

Looking around for the perfect book to spend your afternoon with, so far none had caught your attention, then you see it up on the shelf— the perfect book.

Pleased with your find you climb the step stool in an attempt to reach the book.

The book was too high up and the step stool wasn’t enough, so you resort to tip-toeing, still no use.

Determined to get the book, you decided to use your final option, to jump. Still, on the step stool, you crouch down to make sure you could reach high enough. 3...2...1! You jumped and were able to grab the book in the process.

Too blinded with excitement you had forgotten the vital part of this plan, to land.

Now you were bracing yourself for impact, resigning your fate to the hard wooden floors of the library, but instead of harshly landing on the solid ground, you feel the arms of someone who had caught you just at the right time.

You let out a sigh of relief and slowly open your eyes when you’re met with blue eyes so beautiful that you feel as if you can drown in them if you looked long enough.

It was then that you realize that it was the cute stranger from the reading space.

The mystery guy held out his hand to help you get back on your feet; you brush off the imaginary dust on your shoulders.

The boy picked the book up from the ground, handing it back to you. You shyly accept the book from him.

“Thank you so much for um... Catching me, and I'm sorry about staring at you earlier, I just found your expressiveness rather charming”.

The mystery guy, probably startled by the sudden compliment, blushed.

“It's no problem, and thank you, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You both stare at each other for a second, silence filling the atmosphere between both of you, until you hear a ring.

“Oh, excuse me my friend’s calling,” he explains as he moves away from you.

You think to yourself, isn't this maybe a bit too cliché? Maybe this was finally where your love story started.

Just the tiny thought that this man could be your special someone made your heart race.

I mean look at him, he was good-looking, obviously strong, I mean he caught you when you were falling, respectful, loves books, probably introverted.

He was her ideal guy, now all she needed to do was have the courage to ask for his number and keep in contact, and then-,

“Excuse me, I need to go and meet up with my friend, it was nice meeting you”

he said as bowed at you and quickly walks towards the exit.

“Bye,” you said, but it came out as a hushed whisper as you watch him slowly disappear into the city.

You'd be lying if you said you were fine, in all honesty, you were a little bit sad, yes you were delusional, but only because you were lonely and you needed a special someone to be there with you.

And you were stupid enough to think that the stranger might have been that someone for you, guess you were wrong.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

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loveinstreams · 3 years

Text

>be me >go in the bookstore thinking you’re just going in for a quick look in the cinema section >look down at the film magazine pile >see the March 1989 special issue of the Cahiers about JOHN CASSAVETES at the very top of the pile >scream

#LIKE LEAVE ME ALONE SIR!!!!!!!#i never seem to find any books about this guy in second hand bookstores #or even in normal ones sldfjslkdf

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fanimesenseiwrites · 3 years

Text

Things the MC would bring back to their demon bois from the mortal realm:

Lucifer:

MC goes to second hand stores and vintage shops always on the look out for vinyl records that they think Lucifer would like.

Most of the time they try and bring back stuff he'd actually like, such as Tchaikovsky or Vivaldi

Once, they brought back Stravinsky's Firebird Suite and Lucifer wouldn't stop kissing them (once they were in the privacy of his room of course)

Sometimes the MC will bring back more modern music just because it makes them think of him

"I dunno, I just listen to Hozier and think of you"

Lucifer doesn't like all the modern music they bring back but he appreciates the sentiment just the same

Then there's the gag gifts...

Any kind of music that has a reference to the devil or Satan or hell is fair game

These gifts usually elicit an eye roll from the eldest brother but he keeps them all the same

This is why Lucifer owns a copy of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"

So when MC brings back a copy of Giuseppe Tartini's Violin Sonata in G minor, they're a little surprised at Lucifer's delighted reaction

"You know, I was the one who visited Tartini in his dreams."

MC's mind = blown.

"Also, this copy is cursed. I know you know how much I enjoy cursed vinyls."

"I- wait... What?!"

MC is very upset that they had a cursed vinyl in their possession this whole time

Mammon:

This boy loves stuff, and he loves MC, so he's gonna love any gift really

But MC knows he loves treasure and jewels and as much as they'd love to just bring him back nice watches and jewelery...

MONEY IS A THING, AND MC IS NOT MADE OF IT.

So MC settles for semi-precious stones instead

They always find fun and beautiful stones at museums and those metaphysical stores and they always pick out one that reminds them of Mammon

They're really nervous when they give him his first gift

"Hey, I got this for you and I know it's not fancy or expensive but I saw it and thought of you and I just wanted you to have it."

Mammon will love them until they die. He is really just so touched that MC thought of him. He'll try and play it cool though

He totally fails. MC won't tell him that though

MC brings him Lapis Lazuli and tells him it reminded them of his eyes and Mammon is now a puddle of lovesick goo on the floor

Mammon puts more shelves in his room dedicated to all the gifts MC gives him

One time MC brings him back some fool's gold in a teeny little jar on a chain, so that he can wear it

"Fool's gold? Why cuz I'm a fool?" Mammon asks with a roll of his eyes.

"What? No, cuz I'm a fool for you."

Mammon only love MC until they die? WRONG.

He's gonna love them forever now

He was gonna do that anyways

Leviathan:

C'mon, this boy is easy. Anime/manga stuff and TSL. Need I say more?

At first he'll be suspicious of MC wanting to give him gifts, but once they've convinced him that they're doing it out of the kindness of their heart he's really touched

The first thing the MC brings him is a pen with a little Ruri-Chan on the end of it

"I know it's not much, but I just happened to see it and I knew you'd like it"

Like it??????

HE LOVES IT! HE'S OVER THE GODDAMM MOON.

He's never seen anything like this in the Devildom and he doesn't think about the small stuff usually because he's too busy trying to get the big collectors edition items. So he actually really loves this.

MC continues to bring him cute small stuff like buttons and keychains and Levi loves them all.

His favorite item(s) that MC brought him is a pair of Lord of Shadows and Henry BFF enamel pins

He definitely tackle hugged MC when he got them

He gives the Lord of Shadows pin back to MC so they can each have one and show off their BFF status with them

Satan:

MC loves going to second-hand bookstores to shop for Satan.

Satan also appreciates new books, but there's something special about how his face lights up when he finds something old or rare. Anything with a little bit of history to it.

Of course, finding rare books for not a lot of money is a rare event in itself

So a safe bet is to bring Satan non-fiction, the boy loves to learn

But he really loves it when MC puts thought into finding fiction books that he would like

"I just really feel like you'd like Dean Koontz so I brought you one of my favorites by him."

Satan loves those gifts the most because he can talk to MC about the books afterwards

Satan's absolute favourite gift is a leather bound copy of Arabian Nights though

"I was thinking we could read this one together"

"Like you read it to me and pretend to be Scheherazade?" Satan suggests.

MC is flustered at the connotation of the suggestion but agrees anyways

The time they spend together reading that story will forever be one of Satan's favorite memories

Asmodeus:

He's a little harder to shop for than the MC had originally imagined

They tried bringing him make-up and skin care, which Asmo always graciously accepted, but he never seemed super excited about the gifts

But what else is to be expected from the guy who already uses only the best products?

MC suddenly gets an idea when they send Asmo a selfie of them at the park

- OMG! You're so cute! And the background is pretty too!-

MC starts dressing up and going to nice and beautiful places just with the intention of taking pictures

Botanical Gardens, museums, downtown skylines, anything that would make for a good picture

MC goes full on aesthetic art hoe just for Asmo

Only the best pictures get sent to Asmo

Asmo is LIVING for the looks their MC is serving up

- You are absolutely STUNNING! I'm in awe at these AMAZING pictures-

MC makes a scrapbook of the best pictures to give to Asmo the next time they see him

Asmo loves it and keeps it on display in his room always

Also, Asmo definitely makes MC their personal photographer after seeing the wonderful shots they took

Beelzebub:

Obviously, the boy loves food. He's always down to try new snacks from the mortal realm.

But MC wonders if there's something better that they could bring him

One day MC is at GNC for supplements for themself when they notice the workout supplements and get an idea

They grab some fun flavored protein powder and some BCAAs and a really nice shaker bottle just for Beel

Beel is actually really excited to get these gifts!

The Devildom doesn't have fun flavors of protein powder and the shaker bottle is such a great idea!

MC always brings new flavors of protein back for Beel, doing their best to find the weirdest flavors for him to try

Beel's favorite is definitely Birthday Cake.

MC starts bringing him new stuff to try too, protein bars, recovery supplements, collagen, and superfoods shakes

Beel tries everything and tells MC what their favorites are

"I love the BCAAs, I just wish the Devildom had them..." *sad Beel noises*

MC may or may not talk to Diavolo about researching BCAAs and getting them produced and sold in the Devildom

The supplements MC brings actually help Beel with his workouts and to control his hunger (a little)

Beel actually gets hotter??? Who knew that was possible???

MC definitely takes advantage of Beel's new 8-pack 😏😏😏

Belphegor:

What do you get the boy who only wants to sleep?

MC has gotten him stuffed animals and blankets and even a couple of nice pillows, but nothing seems to excite him

... but maybe that's just his personality??

It's not until MC accidentally leaves a sweater in the Devildom, that they figure it out

- You left your sweater down here- Belphie texts MC.

- Oh no, I'll just get when I come to visit y'all again-

- That's fine. I like having something that smells like you-

And the light bulb went off in MC's head.

Every time MC goes to visit they leave a shirt or sweater behind for Belphie, so that he can have something that smells like them.

Belphie loves how MC smells, its like a sweet dream all the time. It helps him sleep better when they're gone.

Belphie starts to complain when MC is gone longer than the item they left smells like them

(Which is every time)

So MC will start leaving Belphie more than one item, packing them in airtight bags so he can use them one after another until they return

Belphie can and will fight anyone who tries to take MC's clothing

"Mammon, you have two seconds to put that sweater back or I will kill you."

And Lucifer probably won't stop him

Diavolo:

He's honestly the easiest to please.

He's so fascinated with any thing that humans do that he'll enjoy any gift from the human world.

MC's first gift to him is a rubber duck.

"The duck is wearing a crown so it made me think of you and I just thought it was cute."

"I love it! What's its purpose?"

"Uh... to float around in the bathtub with you and look cute?"

"Isn't that what you're for?"

Diavolo loves the rubber duck so much it gets his own silk pillow to rest on when it's not taking a bath with Diavolo.

MC brings him cute pens, and keychains sometimes bottles of wine if the bottle is cute.

"The bottle is shaped like a cat! Isn't that delightful?!"

MC's proudest moment was when they found a full and intact tea set at the thrift store

Diavolo immediately fell in love with it.

He insists on only using that set when having tea with MC

But his favorite gift will always be the rubber duck.

Barbatos:

He'll insist that he doesn't need any gifts but that won't stop the MC.

MC is with him in the kitchen in the Demon Lord's Palace when they get an idea.

KITCHEN TOYS.

Barbatos works so hard, he deserves some things to make his life easier and liven up the bland kitchen

MC's first gift is a vegetable spiralizer.

"You use it to turn zucchini and squash and the like into noodles so that you can do fun stuff with vegetables!"

Barbatos accepts it graciously, but he'll probably never use it.

MC brings him spices from the mortal realm and Barbatos actually really loves those.

When MC brings him a food processor, he offers to cook for them right then and there

Despite all the weird gadgets MC ends up bringing him, and there are plenty out there, Barbatos's favorite is a ladle that looks like a stegosaurus.

It's far more whimsical than anything he would've ever picked out, and he'll never use it, but only because he's afraid of ruining it, not because he doesn't love it.

At some point, Barbatos does ask MC to stop bringing him kitchen gadgets

"Why? Do you not like them?" MC asks with a pout.

"I appreciate all of them, but I have everything I need when you're in the kitchen with me."

If MC wasn't already in love with him they are now

Smooth bastard just doesn't want anymore shit in his kitchen

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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sj-ficrecs · 3 years

Text

fic rec 11!

just a random collection of what I’ve read and enjoyed lately. as usual, no specific order.

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :) See my past fic recs below:

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE! // Q & A

(divider by @bwbatta)

Bucky x reader:

Flashing Lights by @pellucid-constellations Paramedic!Bucky x reader

“Bucky’s worst fears come true when he’s called to a scene. If he’s the one with the dangerous job, then why is it your life that’s hanging in the balance?”

Operation: Freefall by @constantwriter85 Bucky x reader

“When Bucky fell from the train in 1945, he didn’t just leave behind his family and friends. He left behind the girl he was going to marry, a girl he never stopped loving. Decades later, Bucky continued to search for her, only to find out that she had disappeared without a trace in 1955. But when Steve hands over the shield to Sam Wilson, he also has something for his childhood friend—a redacted S.H.I.E.L.D. file code-named Operation: Freefall, a file with more questions than answers. With Sam’s help and a handful of Pym Particles, the file sends Bucky on a trip to the past, trying to solve the mystery and save the woman he still loves.”

Recovery by @wicked-mind Biker!Bucky x reader

“After going through rehab and recovering, you move back to town to live with your mother as you sort out what to do with your life, but your mom has other plans that include hooking you up with a hot biker by the name of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes”

Teacher’s Favorite + Sharing My Sweetheart by @suitk0via Single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine’s favorite teacher and Bucky’s just gotta meet you.”

Uninvited by @mymoonagedaydream modern!Bucky x reader

Reader is a close friend of Sam’s. Sam and Bucky are roommates, so reader spends a lot of time with them. Bucky becomes colder towards reader and they ask Sam about it - finding out Bucky, who is taken, is falling out of love w/ his gf because he has a crush on reader.

You Know Me Too Well by @nexusnyx Tattoo Artist!Bucky x reader

“there is a thin line between pain and pleasure. that line is real and palpable, except for the times when you sit in bucky barnes’ table and feel his hands holding your skin. his job demands him to hurt you, but the only problem is that you enjoy it. a lot.”

The Slip Up by @justkending dad!Bucky x reader

“After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.”

Invisible String series by @dirty-holy-things Bucky x reader

“You were fairly certain that landing a date through court-ordered therapy was some sort of HIPAA violation, if not just an ethical one, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the mysterious storm cloud of a man who you shared the waiting room with every Thursday.”

Sacrifice by @wkemeup Bucky x reader

“In the midst of an attack, you’re dosed with an unknown chemical and your healing ability becomes compromised.”

Purgatory by @wkemeup Bucky x reader

“While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.”

Behind the Storm by @wkemeup Bucky x reader

“On a mission, you’re hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.”

We Were Screaming in Color by @samwlscns Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“james buchanan barnes was your soulmate and you were his. despite everything the world threw your way, bucky always kept his promise to make his way back home to you. even if that meant having to lose him more than once.”

Bulova by @babycap Bucky x reader

“In the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel. A non-canon compliant, friends-to-lovers fic.”

And They’re Roommates by @golden-barnes Modern bartender/roommate!Bucky x reader, New Girl au

“Your boyfriend cheats on you, and now you have nowhere to go. So when you found an ad for a shared loft, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. Come to the realization that you will be sharing it with four guys. Four guys, one of them who is extremely hot and zero brain cells between any of them. What else could you ask for?”

Keep Me Cool by @chouettedubois Bucky x reader

“You and Bucky are on your third undercover mission acting as a couple. Things go awry when you fall ill. Cue caretaker!Bucky to the rescue.”

Love in the Workplace by @cxddlyash Gardener!Bucky x Receptionist!reader

Working at the same hotel, a new gardener is recently hired.

“Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the new gardener.

“What is it?” Sarah asks you and you clear your throat before tearing your gaze from the man.

“Uh, nothing. I finally see the gardener that the hotel hired,” you mention while walking closer to the place.”

Dad Biker!Bucky being adorable with his kids blurb by @angrythingstarlight dad biker!Bucky x reader

dad biker Bucky and his kids making pancakes and breakfast for mom :)

Tap by @houseravenclaws Bucky x reader

“bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.”

Teach Me How to Love by @thefalconthatcriedwolf Godfather/single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her. You happen to have Yelena in your class this school year.”

To Build a Home by @buckyjamess-archive @buckyjamess Mechanic/single dad!Bucky x single mom!reader

“a mechanic and a nurse walk into a schoolyard..both new in the single parent life, chaos arises when the two come together but they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A Good Kind of Fire by @dolcezzasfantasy Modern!Bucky x reader

“Character A runs a flower shop downtown. Character B is terribly allergic to flowers.”

If I Could Fly by @ceeellewrites actor!Bucky x actress!reader, social media au

“Bucky Barnes is an actor with a small (just a tiny) celebrity crush on Y/N L/N, one of the industry’s well-known actress. Well, it’s just a celebrity crush, what could go wrong?”

The Rumour by @sidepartskinnyjeans Bucky x reader

“after a, mostly, chance meeting with Sergeant Barnes starts a rumour around the compound that soon gets out of hand.”

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that’s it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He’s resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life…until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.”

Crawl Home to Her by @nexusnyx Bucky x reader

“when bucky finaly returns from his mission, he finds you sleeping in his sofa and the apartment much different than when he left. much prettier, with a touch of home. apparently, while he was away you took his advice to “do what you want with the place, doll” seriously - or as a distraction - and now he got to come home to this.bucky’s heart takes a leap and he stands there for a second, frozen in his spot.”

Signed by the Author by @wintersfilm Bucky x reader

“on a mission to improve his conversations with sam, bucky wanders brooklyn and into a bookstore where he finds his new favourite book and the most adorable bookseller he has ever laid eyes on.”

Seasons of Love by @constantwriter85 Army vet!Bucky x reader, modern au

“Bucky gets a service dog, but Winter’s only got eyes for the dog across the park…and her owner.”

One Single Thread of Gold (Tied Me to You) by @pietrotica Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“on your sixteenth birthday, the first words your soulmate will speak to you appear on your wrist. in a world where it’s quite common to get a simple ’hi what can i get you’ or common phrases, you’ve managed to get their name. that doesn’t make it easier to find him.”

Sunday is a Family Day by @lazyangeltreemoney Bodyguard!Bucky x rockstar!reader

“You’re stubborn, annoying and hot as hell which seems to be an awful combo to mix with Bucky Barnes. However one day he realises he got you all wrong and now there’s a little kid in the mix that needs both of your help.”

816 notes · View notes

messers-moony · 3 years

Text

So Perfect | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through.

The bookstore was quiet most days. It was a tiny little two-story shop in London. The idea was it had a book for everyone. On the second story was a living quarter for the two siblings that worked at the shop. It was a small two-bedroom apartment, but it did what it was needed to do.

Remus and Y/n Lupin were the owners of the shop. It was their eighteenth birthday gift from their parents. Growing up, their parents didn’t have much, so for them, it means a lot. The name of the shop was something simple - Lupin’s Library - but inside held memories that they would cherish forever.

When they started the business, it was slow. Most days, no one would enter, and Y/n worked a separate job to help Remus pay the bills. But after a year it seemed that people preferred the shop over any other place in London. They enjoy the warmness of Remus’ smile and the radiant happiness from Y/n.

Remus worked behind the counter at the register, and when there wasn’t a customer, he was reading on the stool he sat on. Y/n did inventory and stocked books. She didn’t like to sit still, preferring to be on her feet moving around. Sometimes early in the morning, she’d grab donuts to leave on the front counter for early customers.

There was nothing like Lupin’s Library, and that’s why people loved it.

The bell-ringing announced a new customer into the shop. It was a tiny ding, nothing majorly loud. Y/n was stocking books while Remus was sleeping upstairs in his room. Over the past winter, he had caught a nasty cold leaving Y/n to take over the bookstore until he got better while also trying to take care of him.

“One moment, and I’ll be with you!” Y/n called as she slipped the last book into place.

She skipped to make it behind the counter where she met a man about her age - twenty-five. He was taller than her, maybe just around six feet. His hair was messy and curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, and he radiated a certain playfulness Y/n could get used to.

“Mornin’ sir!” James was taken away by her light and fluffy accent, “What can I do for you today?”

He smiled, “Looking for something to read for my son.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s about to turn five.” James smiled proudly.

“That’s adorable!” Y/n gushed, “Any way we have magic treehouse books, maybe he’d like those?”

“Maybe, he’s been begging for new books.” James ran a hand through his hair, “It’s the only way I can get him to calm down.”

Y/n smiled, “You know, on Saturdays, I read to kids. If you want him to join us, he’s more than welcome. Saturdays, I read to kids five to nine. Sundays, I read to kids from ten to fifteen.”

“Wow,” James replied, “I’d love to take him in if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” She smiled, “Everyone’s welcome.”

James gave a grin in response as he searched the Library for these Magic Treehouse books. It took him five minutes before even finding the kids section, but when he did, James grabbed the set of them. He placed each book on top of another and brought them to the counter of the pretty girl.

He watched at how gently and smoothly she moved the books to scan them. James was so focused he didn’t even notice her handing him the books and the receipt, “But I didn’t-“

“It’s on the house.” Y/n replied, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

James’ face flushed; he hadn’t felt this way since Lily, “I’ll- um- see you Saturday….”

He walked out of the shop with a happy smile placed on his face. James hadn’t felt flustered and nervous around a girl since Lily in seventh grade. He had been head over heels for her since then. They began dating in sophomore year and had Harry right out of high school. It was poor planning on their part, but Harry was everything James had dreamed of. It wasn’t until Harry’s second birthday when Lily said she couldn’t take it anymore.

Not only had it broken James’ heart, but it broke Harry’s too. Harry had no idea where his momma had gone. What broke James’ heart the most was Lily saying she wanted absolutely nothing to do with either of them. Lily had placed the engagement ring on the wooden table, collected her things, and left, just like that.

Then it was just them against the world. James and his little mini-me, as Sirius would say. Sirius was the one who recommended the bookshop. He wouldn’t shut up about how cute the boy behind the register was (“Oh James, his hair looks so fluffy!”). It was like hearing a broken record. James didn’t see the boy with fluffy hair, but he did see the girl with the radiant smile.

That night James sat beside Harry in his twin bed. Harry was thrilled to see the new books on his shelf, and as James began reading, Harry became more hooked with each page. When James shut the book, Harry was devastated. He wanted to know more and finish the book! Alas, he had to go to sleep, and if he did, James promised him that they’d finish the book tomorrow.

When James brought up going to Lupin’s Library on Saturdays, Harry was ecstatic! He couldn’t wait to meet the new kids and begin a new book. By the time Saturday rolled around, they had finished two of the Magic Treehouse books. James entered the shop with Harry in front of him, hands on the little boy's shoulders. Now at the counter, he saw the boy with fluffy hair.

“Good afternoon, sir.” He greeted in the same soft accent, “Here for the kids reading circle?”

Harry nodded, and the boy chuckled, “Great. It’s just in that back corner.”

James thanked him before bringing Harry to the back corner, where kids were already sat on a rug. Blankets were spread among some of them, and the girl was sitting on a chair in the corner while the kids made a semi-circle around her. James beckoned Harry to sit, and James smiled at the girl in the chair.

As the reading began, James decided to venture through the bookstore. The bookshelves were surprisingly clean and rid of any dust. The books were taken care of, not a crease or bent page unless he went into the used section. Some people preferred new books; some preferred used. There truly was a book for everyone in here.

He made his way back to the front desk with some books he had gained from the shelves. A multitude of paperbacks and gently placed them on the counter. Remus put a bookmark in his book and began to scan each book just as smoothly as the girl. His hands didn’t seem as soft. They looked calloused and scarred. Sirius’ type, all the way.

“You wouldn’t happen to see a boy with straight black hair in here sometimes?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Wears ripped jeans and a leather jacket?”

Remus smiled, “Yes, we get him in here quite frequently.”

“Do you mind if I got your number for him?” James questioned, “He’s talked the world of you and your bookstore.”

“It’s not just my bookstore.” Remus correctly playfully, “My sister works it with me, who I see you’ve been well acquainted with.”

James’ face flushed pink, “I didn’t- I don’t-“

“It’s fine.” Remus replied, handing him the books and the receipt, “She’s a big girl. I trust her to make her own decisions.”

“I didn’t pay for these.”

“You can thank my sister.” Remus winked as he sat on the stool and began reading.

James grunted at not paying again. He rummaged through his wallet and placed forty pounds in the tip jar. Remus chuckled and shook his head at the gesture, appreciative nonetheless of the man's kindness. Another thirty minutes went by, and Harry was running back into his dad's arms.

“That was awesome!” Harry exclaimed softly, “She was so nice! She gave us lollipops!”

“Did she?” James asked, and Harry nodded.

Y/n smiled softly as she joined Remus behind the counter, grabbing some books to stamp while all the kids filed out to find their parents, “Looks like we’ll be back next Saturday.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Y/n replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”

Harry smiled, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

James and Harry walked out of Lupin’s Library together with smiles on their faces. Harry wouldn’t stop jumping with joy the entire day. He couldn’t get over how lovely the lady was and how she gave him a lollipop. Truthfully, it was the little things when it came to kids. Remus chuckled as they left the library together.

“He quite likes you, I’d say.”

“Little kids like anyone who give them candy.”

“I don’t mean the boy.” Remus replied, “I mean the adult who seems quite fond of you.”

Y/n hmphed, “And what about the man who wears the leather jacket and the straight black hair?”

Remus blushed, “‘Oh, Y/n, he’s so perfect.’” Y/n mocked.

“You’re annoying.” Remus nudged her with his elbow.

“Love you too.”

It wasn’t until Wednesday when he came back in again. Y/n had been absent from the shop due to having to help her friend bartend. Despite working at the bookshop full time, she still had a part-time job bartending. If she spent the whole day at the bar, then she spent the entire night at the bookstore. Working two jobs was no easy feat, but she did it.

James walked in and wandered aimlessly after not seeing or hearing her. Remus smiled amusedly as he walked in and continued to read his book. James felt the spines of the books but never plucked one from the shelf. Remus got tired of his lost puppy look and finally called to him.

“She’s not here, you know.”

“Oh,” James muttered, “Where- Where is she?”

Remus placed his book down after bending the corner of the page, “Helping a friend.”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” James replied nervously as he went to walk out the door.

“Wait!” Remus called, and James turned, “I can- um- I can give you her schedule if you want.”

“Schedule?” James questioned, “She doesn’t work here full time?”

Remus shook his head, “No, she works part-time at a bar around the block. It helps-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “It helps pay the bills.”

“You guys don’t make enough to stay in business?”

“No, we don’t.” Remus murmured, “I can't really do much else other than work here, so Y/n took up another job. Which she hates, and it drains her.”

James was appalled. These people were so nice and kind. How weren’t they making enough to stay in business? Remus looked utterly embarrassed by the whole thing, confessing to a customer that they were struggling. James, himself, was a Nephrologists at a hospital not too far away. His family was small, and he made a lot of money.

Without another word, James left the shop leaving Remus in a confused state. He walked to an ATM that was only a couple of blocks away before pulling out a decent amount of cash. James walked back into the bookstore and placed an envelope on the counter. Remus stared at it confused as he got on his own two feet to open it. As he peeled back the seal, he saw what was inside.

“I’m sorry, I can’t-“

“Please.” James begged, “Harry would be devastated if his favorite place went out of business.”

Remus had tears in his eyes as he placed the money beneath the counter, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Our parents bought this shop with almost nothing, and we’ve been trying, but it’s so hard.”

“Well,” James began, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if this place was gone, especially after knowing you’re guys’ kindness.”

Remus smiled and grabbed a piece of paper with a calendar on it. At the bottom, he wrote his and Y/n’s names along with their phone numbers. His handwriting was tidy and curvy. Remus handed the piece of paper to him, and James took it gratefully.

“It’s Y/n’s schedule along with her part-time bartending job. Our numbers are at the bottom.” Remus motioned to the calendar and at the numbers on the bottom.

“Thank you, Remus.” James smiled as he pulled out a business card from his wallet, “Obviously, you don’t need me to be your doctor, but my number is on the card if either of you needs anything.”

Remus took the two cards gently, “Thank you, James. We really won’t forget this.”

“I’m glad.” James smiled, “Because I won’t forget you two.”

He left the bookstore with a skip in his step. It felt good to do that. James hadn’t felt this happy since Harry was born, but now he felt like himself again. He felt like that energized boy from middle school who was always destined to be great.

James didn’t know what it was like to be poor. He grew up with his parents being doctors. They made decent money, and James always got what he wanted. They lived with the higher class. It made his heart ache that Remus and Y/n, who were so sweet we’re struggling. He couldn’t take it. He had to do something. It felt good to do that something.

Around the block was a bar called Whiskey Woes. It was old and rugged-looking. The black stone bricks seemed to be cracking in every spot. It made James grimace. Walking inside was even worse. The pungent smell of older men with no taste for cologne made him scrunch his nose. But behind the counter, he saw an exhausted girl who was giving it her all to get tips.

James made his way to sit on a barstool, and sluggishly Y/n made her way to him, “Good afternoon, sir! What can I getcha today?”

“A glass of water?” James replied, lifting his head, and Y/n let out a visible sigh of relief, “‘Course.”

A minute of running around the bar later, a glass of water was placed in front of him, “How’s work, Y/n?”

“How’d you find out my name?”

“Well, your name tag says it.” James pointed, “And I went by the bookstore today.”

Y/n hummed, “Remus tell you where I work, huh?”

“Yeah.” James replied, stirring his water with his straw, “And I want you to quit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to quit working at this shithole.” James repeated, “And take this.”

Another envelope was passed to her across the bar. Y/n eyed him as she broke the glued seal on the white paper. Inside she saw cash, and it didn’t look like just a tiny amount either. Y/n’s face showed visible shock, and James smiled sheepishly.

“Consider it a tip.”

“This is more than a tip.” Y/n chuckled, “This is like three of my yearly salaries.”

James’ smile faltered just a tiny bit, “You don’t belong here. You belong at the bookstore with Remus. You don’t seem happy here, and Remus sees it too. Says you come home exhausted and drained.”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Maybe go on a date with me?”

Y/n blushed, “A date?”

“Yeah, a date.” James muttered.

“I think you deserve a lot more than a date.” Y/n replied, and James smirked, “Only if you’ll let me.”

She laughed, and it made his stomach flutter. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. It made his heart flip and the corners of his lips quirk. The way she tilted her head back and how her hair flowed as she did so—the crinkle of her nose and the creases of her eyes as she shut them tightly.

She was so perfect.

593 notes · View notes

reidingmelodies · 3 years

Text

Finders Keepers

A/N: It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it! Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K

“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features. As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.

Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.

Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up. “Everything okay, Spence? You seem annoyed.”

Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”. No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys. I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning. It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella. I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.

“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true. I have an eidetic memory which means-”

“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them. Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession. Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.

The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories. He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people. He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.

Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch. Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.

***

As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her. Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her. Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her. Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her. The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”. With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.

The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google. By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car. Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book. May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home. With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.

As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book. Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it. Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.

***

Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off. As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night. He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.

“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions. “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids? It’s actually really interesting-”

“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”. Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book. An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.

It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.

***

A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book. In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book. That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace. A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him. In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.

As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.

“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.

“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.

“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.

“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.

“Yes! I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago. This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.” Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.

“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.

“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face. “Wait, that is my book then! Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”

The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body. “I’m so sorry! I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second. “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”. She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands. “I think this belongs to you”.

“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”. Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him. It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not. “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.

Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner. “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted. “It belongs with you”.

“At least take this one then?” Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp. “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it. Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.

The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life. The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door. “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”. Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.

***

The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts. He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.

He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind. As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night. With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.

“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it. He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.

As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there. It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.

Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note. “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.

As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else. It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together. At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had? I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book. Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe? So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”

The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-

“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away. “Absolutely”.

***

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chubbology · 3 years

Text

The Right Path

prompt: just wholesome and sweet wg

Jay knew he wasn’t the most remarkable guy. He’d never gotten the best grades in school; he’d never been great at sports. His hobbies were humble things like reading science fiction and playing fantasy games and going on walks late at night.

Moving back to his hometown after his college graduation, he struggled to find work. He ended up doing sedentary graveyard shifts that allowed him to eat on the job, and as a result, he gained almost forty pounds, becoming chubby for the first time in his life. It bothered him, getting too thick for his clothes. Working at a job he didn’t like. Being alone most of the time.

He felt sorry for himself, but he didn’t complain to his friends online; he just hoped, as he ate fast food on the way home again, that things would get better soon.

Of all places, he met them at a bookstore. Their name was Devon, and they dressed androgynous and plain, although their personality was like sunshine. Jay, an unconfessed romantic, just smiled wistfully as Devon told him a dozen reasons why the book Jay just picked up was the best he’d read in years. Devon, while not especially short, was lithe and cute, and - it was too nerve-wracking for Jay to ask for their number, even if only to keep in contact with a potential new friend. Instead, he thanked Devon and bought the book and got a milkshake on the way back, damning himself for being such a coward.

Later at home, he snacked on too many chips, then made himself a microwave mac and cheese dinner. He unbuttoned and unzipped his painfully tight jeans as he ate; he would have changed clothes first, but sometimes the anticipation of eating overwhelmed all thoughts in his mind. Including thoughts about Devon, thankfully. Forgetting he’d had a milkshake already, Jay found a bag of Halloween candy in the back of his pantry and started to work his way through it, right there in the kitchen. He ate chocolate after caramel chocolate with a one-track mind: to eat away his thoughts. It mostly worked, although sometimes he had to eat two or three at once. His shirt rode up a little, and he touched his distended belly. Even when the bag was empty, he craved more. His hands itched to eat. His tongue yearned to taste. Even with his button and fly undone, his jeans squeezed him.

The next time Jay saw Devon at the bookstore, he was another thirty pounds heavier. His hips and belly spilled over his waistband, stretching his t-shirt. His thighs naturally pressed together and his butt protruded quite a bit. He felt as overweight as he looked - even more so upon seeing that Devon looked as thin as ever.

Yet, despite Jay’s insecurities, Devon was the one who seemed shy as they talked, discussing books, then games. They migrated to the sitting area of the bookstore and Jay had to tug down his shirt a few times. His butt didn’t really fit in the narrow armchair, and his thighs warmed up quickly with his belly resting atop them. Jay worried that his moobs - which had grown particularly chubby in the last couple weeks - might be off-putting, but Devon kept talking with him like there was nothing more he wanted to do.

Even though Jay had already made up his mind to ask for Devon’s number this time, it was Devon who asked. So Jay, flustered as he was, gave it to him and tried his luck by asking them if they wanted to get something to eat. Devon agreed. Even better, Devon didn’t pick some health-food place, but claimed to be as ravenous as him. So they ordered two pizzas for delivery back at Jay’s apartment.

Jay nervously ate his whole pizza that night, then most of Devon’s - but only because Devon insisted. When Jay made one little self-deprecating comment about always eating too much, Devon said nonchalantly, “I say go for it. People should eat as much as they want. In my opinion, it’s not a bad thing to gain weight.”

Jay was so stunned he couldn’t even reply. They enjoyed the rest of the evening, talking and gaming and, in Jay’s case, snacking again later. Jay suspected this was the beginning of something.

They hung out more. And more. Soon they had their first kiss and started going out officially. As Jay got comfortable with having Devon around, he got comfortable with eating more often around him, too. As a result, Devon got comfortable with offering him food, bringing him food, encouraging him to eat more, to eat again - sometimes even talking Jay into eating when he wasn’t hungry. Jay wasn’t oblivious to what it all meant about Devon’s preferences, but he didn’t have the guts to confront them about it. Plus, he was happy to not hold back, and his cravings for sweets and snacks had only become more intense.

Jay never denied Devon anything, and so he outgrew his clothes again.

This time, though, Jay found he didn’t mind. Devon praised his body constantly, and only encouraged his hearty diet. Eventually the two of them did have a conversation about Devon enjoying feeding him, and of Jay enjoying being fed, and Jay got bigger from multiple stuffings throughout the weeks, he got happier, too. Even when he eventually got so heavy that waddling and panting became a way of life, he was no less happy: he and Devon laughed at diet commercials, learned to bake together, had sex after Jay got stuck in the closet doorway. In a deep, visceral way, the two of them revered the experience of Jay letting himself go completely.

For the first time in a long time, Jay felt truly accepted and loved, and as the months and years passed, he found a better job and left his old one. He didn’t ignore his family and online friends so much. He stopped with the sad internal monologues about the trajectory of his life and started telling himself that he was on the right path. Because he was. Regardless of any high weight or low income, if he was supported, and supported himself: he would do well in his life.

“Wow,” Devon said one Saturday morning, as Jay put away his fourth stack of pancakes. “You’re amazing.”

They were enjoying a big breakfast and the warm, springtime weather out on the patio of their new apartment. They’d both gained significant weight over the winter, but while Devon was only just entering chubby territory, Jay had to spread his legs to allow his belly to hang between them. His second chin sat out fat and permanent. Jay felt like a new person. Someone who didn’t try so hard to conform. Someone he honestly liked.

“I know,” Jay shrugged, smiling as he took another bite.

---

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

#weight gain #fic #male gainer #nonbinary feeder #named

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warmau · 3 years

Text

how you end up here, you don’t know, but you blame johnny suh because when things get weird it’s usually his fault anyway

johnny’s smile is a thousand and one watts - he reaches out to pass you the beat up guitar case and again, you don’t even take it by choice, it’s nudged into your hands before you can really even say a word

“im not joining your band.”

“it’s not mine - it’s ours.”

jungwoo twirls a drum stick between his fingers and grins from his spot on the garage couch

“no johnny - we all know it’s yours.”

your lips thin and the only reason you don’t fling the case to the floor is because you actually like the guitar that’s inside.

granted you haven’t seen it since middle school and it probably still has that horrible sticker on the back of it that you remember picking at until all the little pieces you got off were uncomfortably stuck under your nails.

“guys - it’s summer. we have nothing better to do.”

“says you, i got an engineering internship at samsung.”

jungwoo chirps again and you try not to roll your eyes

we all know about the damn samsung internship dude.

“yeah - and i have to work at the family bookstore.”

mark lee walks in, holding as many redbulls as he can fit between his elbows, they spill out and onto the space beside jungwoo

you listen to mark open one and johnny groan

“ok you all have something to do, but we-” he motions behind him at you “don’t have anything to save us from the boredom that is about to take up two months of our youthful lives!”

“hey-”

you cut in and all three sets of eyes focus on you

“i have something i want to do this summer.”

johnny’s long figure straightens in anticipation while jungwoo cocks an eyebrow and mark gives you an encouraging smile

“im not going to tell you what it is, but it’s definitely not starting a band with you guys.”

you lean the guitar case against a nearby wall and add a half-hearted shrug

“sorry.”

the walk from johnny’s house to yours isn’t long, it takes about fifteen minutes if you’re really going slow.

plus you’ve done it so many times, you basically set your body to autopilot.

you think about it - the thing you want to do this summer before you go away for university and home becomes a new place and a memory at the same time.

you’re not known for being sentimental, johnny has even gone so far as to label you as a bit ‘apathetic’ . but still you know this is your last chance to really enjoy the place you grew up in.

you turn the corner at the street that leads down to where you live and in the hot evening air you hear something

it’s the sound of a bike, the pedaling is light but the frame must be old because it creaks a little when it slows down slightly to maneuver to the left and pass you.

you look up and see a boy

brown hair still wet from the pool or a shower maybe, dimples at the corners of his smile, the two sizes too big white shirt fluttering behind him in the breeze

for what seems like longer than a second - you lock eyes - his match the color of autumn leaves and teddy bear fur

and for some weird reason can’t stop thinking about them even well after you get back home

is he new in town? i’ve never seen him before?

finally managing to shake off the curiosity, you fish the shoebox you’ve been keeping under your bed out and open it.

inside there’s only three things so far:

a copy of your graduation photo, a copy of johnny’s graduation photo, and the prom invite ticket that has jungwoo’s chicken scrawl on the back (he was technically your date, because johnny got proportioned by half the seniors and mark was too nervous to ask if you’d take him)

this is what you were talking about. this is what you want to spend summer doing.

you want to spend it remembering, gathering fragments of your life so far in your hometown with your bestfriends, so that when you move on you have a tangible piece of the memories

the reason you were keeping it a secret though was because.....even you had to admit.......this was a little much

and you had built yourself a little bit of a hard shell so imagining telling the people you knew that this was your summer plan

well, you could already hear johnny’s voice saying something like ‘hey, this isn’t a hallmark movie you sap and facetime exists. do you think im not gonna call you at 3 am from across the country like i do now anyway?’

you close the box and tap your fingers on the top.

tomorrow, i’ll start visiting all the important places.

your phone pings and it sound echoes through the otherwise empty library.

a harsh shushing sound comes from the front desk and you quickly answer it, sliding down against one of the bookcases

you’d come here to see if you could find that old series you loved as a kid, the magic treehouse, it’s the books you and johnny fought over when you first met each other years ago

you abandon that though because poor mark sounds like he’s having a panic attack over the phone

“hey, you need to get over here - johnny is holding auditions for a guitarist since you said you didn’t want to do the band”

“ok, so what? it’s just auditions?”

mark’s pleading gets louder, “it’s auditions with JOHNNY - he thinks this is eurovision or something i don’t know please i can’t reign him in and jungwoo’s at his internship - i am dying here!”

you sigh, making it long so mark knows how annoyed you are

“put him on.”

mark’s voice drowns and johnny takes the phone from him

“what did i say with conspiring with them? we are shunning them for quitting on the band! what do you mean you had no other options? what do you mean my egomania is coming out? - anyway hey whats up?”

“stop torturing mark and all the poor kids that showed up to audition.”

“first of all, im not torturing anyone. that would be illegal and distasteful, im just giving my constructive criticism. second of all, if you want to give orders like that then let’s make this a fare trade off. come over and help me judge - i mean hold the auditions and then i will cease my so called ‘torturing’ ala my ‘criticizing’.”

you huff - fine, it’s one day out of the whole summer.

“ok. but you better have snacks.”

“do you think i wouldn’t provide refreshments? what kind of monster do you think i am?”

there’s more people than you expect showing up to audition for this band. half of them are just there to sweet talk johnny or mark, but the others are all just. bad.

you never knew how bad someone butcher playing an instrument, let alone a guitar, but you’ve had that eye opening experience today

“how many people left?”

you mutter, face first into your palms and looking up with happiness when mark says only one!

“hey, im jung jaehyun.”

you turn and see the boy from the bike, the one with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, standing in the entry to johnny’s garage

he’s carrying his own guitar case - black leather and well worn but loved

“well jaehyun dude, i hope you can at least play the damn thing because i feel like no one in this town can!”

johnny groans and you straighten up a little as jaehyun comes closer

he sets himself up and you feel something inside your stomach turn when he bends down and you see a bit of the tanned skin of his back

“im not amazing, but i can play some of the classics.”

“wonderwall?” mark asks and johnny snips at him as you try to think of something to say, but suddenly....your brain is fuzzy

“play anything!”

so jaehyun does, he plays, and he even sings and the fuzziness in your brain turns to white noise and the little drop in your stomach is a whole bundle of butterflies

you barely realize the johnny is already befriending jaehyun and mark is staring at him with those big, impressed eyes

when you get up and jaehyun smiles at you

“so what do you play?”

johnny throws an arm around your shoulder older brother style and rolls his eyes before you get a word in

“you’re actually taking their spot because they’re too busy to be in the band.”

something seems to cast a sad shadow over jaehyun’s features - “oh, you’re not going to play with us?”

words float through your head, none of which you can grasp onto, so you just shake it instead and let johnny ramble on about your so called betrayal

you look at your phone and of course it’s nearing ten and there’s no way you can go to any of the other places on your list so you motion to mark that you’re going to head home

“oh - i have to go too.”

jaehyun slings his guitar case over his shoulder, “but ill come by tomorrow for practice?”

johnny shoots him a big grin and then haggles all the social media jaehyun has out of him

you don’t know why you just don’t start walking - but somehow you end up leaving with jaehyun, making that left turn where you first passed each other

“do you live on this street?”

you jump a little as you nod, “yeah - i think i actually saw you yesterday. you were on your bike so you probably didn’t notice me.”

there’s a polite distance between you two, but jaehyun is smiling when he answers

“oh no, i definitely noticed you.”

you end up thinking about those words the same way you couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes

except this time, instead of it lasting a day, the thought lasts nearly two and a half weeks

it seems jaehyun is doing a good job fitting in with your friends, considering you don’t get anymore calls from mark

and you actually start to make progress on your summer project

you manage to get some ticket stubs from old movies, an old science project you did that’s still hanging on the walls of the highschool (open for summer classes), and pressed flowers from ontop of a hill where you almost break your elbow back when you were a freshman

you’re plunging yourself into your past, but weirdly enough every now and then you’ll remember that

oh no, i definitely noticed you

the six little words make you feel giddier than whatever memento you’re seeking out to tuck into your shoebox

you try to tell yourself it’s just because jaehyun is new - he’s new and the memory of him isn’t old enough to try and find anything to represent him by

and he kind of represents everything you’re nervous about - new places, new people, new friendships ...... the prospect of a new love

love?

you look up at the sky as you swing back and forth on the playground you’ve come to collect something from for your memory box

that’s ridiculous. i’ve had one conversation with him!

you swing your legs back and forth, slowing down and you think twice about jumping off when suddenly you feels someone gently push your back

the swing goes a little higher and you turn your head in surprise to see

“j-jaehyun?”

he smiles and his dimples greet you before he does

“i saw you on my way back from johnny’s.”

he gives you another soft push and you hear that fuzzy noise that always turns the gears in your brain when you try to say something around him

“is - is johnny being nice?”

is all you can muster and jaehyun laughs, the sound melodic but low, just the way the baritone of his voice is when he sang

“very nice, but he is a lot to handle sometimes.”

you kick your legs down and dig your heels into the grass a little, jaehyun grabs the two chains of the swings to help you stop it

when you turn you notice his bike is laying a couple of feet away and so is his guitar

“what about the band stuff?”

“johnny is trying to write songs and stuff, but actually mark is the one that i think has the talent for it.”

you can’t help but feel the corner of your mouth lift up a little, he already knows the two of them pretty well.

“what about you - do you write songs or music?”

jaehyun lifts his bike back up and you take the guitar case to help him

before you know it - you and him are walking side by side again

“a little, but it’s more about playing the guitar for me. that’s the part that makes me happy.”

you play with your fingers behind your back, old nervous habits rising to the surface

“by the way - why did you not want to be part of the band? johnny said you were busy with something but you didn’t say what.”

you stop

i should lie, make something up.

jaehyun stops too and the sounds of the bike wheels and footsteps float off into the air

but for some reason, i don’t want to lie. not to him.

“im......leaving after the summer, going to school in another place. so im spending my summer kind of.....im kind of cataloging this place. this town. i’m doing the whole put your memories in a shoebox thing which is so-”

“awesome! i think it’s awesome that you want a part of your home with you, sometimes people are way too excited to get away from their roots.”

you look at jaehyun, who returns the look with a comforting warmth you’ve never experienced before.

it’s a different comfort than the one you get from your friends or your family, it makes your heart beat flutter - slow for a second, then so fast you think your body can’t keep up

he starts walking again and you do too

the silence isn’t weird. it’s a conversation in it’s own way between your two bodies.

when you get to your house - you look at jaehyun again and you have two thoughts

one is that you should kiss him. because he looks so.....kissable.

the second, the one you ultimately choose, is to widen your eyes and go:

“promise you won’t tell the others about it though, they would not let me live it down.”

jaehyun laughs and hooks his pinkie with yours - his skin soft under the setting sun - “i promise.”

and after being caught up in thinking about jaehyun’s eyes, or the way he speaks, you find yourself in the same repeating cycle again

this time. it’s your regret.

you should have chose option one, because it’s looking like another opportunity to kiss jung jaehyun is not coming any time soon.

and like the two times before, you throw yourself into your summer project to try and not think about it

(although you do, multiple times throughout the day, at one point blushing at the image of what could have happened if you DID kiss him and then getting snapped at by the angry man at the local deli)

another couple of weeks pass and you swing by johnny’s because it’s a location on your summer memory list and also....

you are curious about how the band is going ...

and you kind of a little want to see jaehyun again......

you arrive and hear jungwoo’s voice to your surprise, followed by the sound of drums and johnny’s sharp “stop, stop, STOP!”

“jungwoo, what is going on - did working at samsung make you into a robot who can only produce code and not drum to save his life?”

“what do you know about drumming johnny? or coding? or anything in general?”

“hey watch the attitude, you’re embarrassing me in front of jaehyun.”

jungwoo snorts and you try to hide your own laugh but everyone turns to you just in time for you to hiccup it back

“ah - the traitor is here!”

johnny sings and jaehyun gives him a soft elbow to the ribs

“what’s up?”

mark smiles from his place at the keyboard and you cross your arms

“nothing, hows it going - book any shows? write an album yet?”

“actually, we did book a gig for your information”

johnny waltz his way from the microphone and to a stack of flyers from his couch

he hands you one and this time you do burst out into laughter

the flyer, pink and way over the top, is an invitation to johnny’s end of the summer party

well it’s actually his going away party his parents have planned for him, since he’s also leaving for school

“johnny - you didn’t book a gig. you’re playing your own party.”

“the parents are shelling out twenty dollars to each of us so money makes it a gig.”

you look at jaehyun who secretly rolls his eyes

“sure, sure. can i keep one of these?”

you fold the flyer and slip it into your pocket, this will make a good addition to the shoebox

“oh are you going to put it in-”

jaehyun starts and you rush over, hand flying over his mouth as the three other people in the garage stare

“going to put it in......the trash. yes. going to throw it right out because really johnny did you use paint-”

johnny flips you off in the kindest, best friend way possible

you let go of jaehyun and throw him a look that he mouths an apology too

somehow, instead of leaving, you end up staying and listening to them practice

you consider it a break from your project and the day is filled with what you’d expect from all of them, laughter and jokes and banter that is only ok between the closest of people

when they finally finish practice and jungwoo and mark accept a gracious ride home from mr. suh

you say you’ll be off too and jaehyun trots up right behind you, “ill walk with you.”

this time, you hear less of the fuzz in your head and can actually keep up a decent conversation without staring at jaehyun’s lips

you feel closer because of the time you spent today and you almost walk past your house until jaehyun points to the porch

“oh by the way. can i see what you have in the shoebox?”

you look over your shoulder at him, “like right now?”

he gives a casual shrug

“is that ok?”

and now jung jaehyun is standing in your room. well he’s standing in it and then he’s sitting on your bed and rummaging through some of the most personal memories you have.

his long fingers pulling out ticket stubs or notes you passed in class

he chuckles at the graduation photo of johnny and dangles yours over your head when he refuses to give it back

you tackle him for it and he falls down against your sheets and you make the worst (or arguably best) mistake of your life

when you straddle his hips and rich out to grab it

only to look down and see him splayed open like the pages of a beautiful book

and you remember your regret

it makes your head spin, but you watch in slow motion as the photo falls from between his fingers and you lean down to catch it, but jaehyun presses up and catches your mouth with his.

it’s sloppy, awkward - but only for the first few seconds - until you can both adjust yourselves from your position and do it right and then it is

astonishing

because it feels like you’re kissing someone you’ve been kissing for years. decades. millennia's. eons.

it feels like you and jaehyun have been doing this since the big bang.

since humans first came to exist.

since, gosh you don’t know, since pangea freaking broke apart.

you make out for so long that you lose track of time and it gets late to the point where the darkness of the summer almost makes you ask him to stay over

but jaehyun is just so mannerly that he slips out the back door of your house with a final kiss and a promise to call

which he follows up on earlier than you expect, showing up on your doorstep to take you out for breakfast

only to end up with you two back in your room an hour later, kissing again, and again, and with more hands and less of his shirt or yours.

the only thing that unglues you from him is his phone ringing for what must be the tenth time

“it’s johnny”

you breath against jaehyun’s neck finally

“how do you know?”

“only he calls ten times in a row.”

and like your summer project, you don’t tell your friends about what’s going on between you two

jaehyun says it’s kind of hard to hide the obvious evidence on his body - but you tell him to say it was your other neighbor, or someone from another town

jaehyun agrees just because you pull the doe eye trick on him and he really is learning he can’t say no to that or to you in most situations

but everytime before and after band practice - he’s with you

sometimes he joins you on your little visits to the places still on your lists

when you tell him the sentimental value behind them, you get a little fidgety because being vulnerable is hard

but jaehyun listens and he says that each memory of yours he gets to watch you relive, helps him learn something about you

you don’t say it out loud - but hearing that makes you want to cry and kiss him and cry again

an other times, you two don’t do anything heartwarming or special, you just roll around with him, tangled up in one until he has to go

with each day, summer comes closer to

and end but you fall deeper into each other at a pace that might be alarming if it was any other two humans but the both you

and before you know it - it’s the day of johnny’s end of summer slash going away party

jaehyun is supposed to be there from like nine in the morning but he stops at your place before he bikes over

kissing your forehead he drops something in your palm

you open it to see his guitar pick

“won’t you need this for when you play?”

“i’m using my backup. i just thought you might want to put that one in your shoebox........since it could remind you of me......”

he flushes and you bite back your lip, part of you is happy because he’s just so cute it isn’t fair but the other is coming to the daunting idea that

soon enough - im leaving too, will jaehyun just be another memory to me?

instead of dwelling on it, you peck him again and ask,

“ill see you at the party?”

the party is most definitely a johnny suh party

the food is amazing, everyone on the planet is invited, and johnny is wearing something so bright it beats out the sun

when you arrive, his mother spends half an hour asking you to take care of him when he finally leaves and you don’t remind her that you’re going to two different places

you don’t see jaehyun or mark or jungwoo around - you assume they’re practicing somewhere for the performance while johnny is juggling both front lead singer and host

the party is fun - it really is - but the words “going away” somehow still make you a little sick

you’re about to escape to somewhere a little quieter, when you hear someone tap the mic on the makeshift stage in johnny’s backyard

you see him - and the rest of the band - gather on as johnny introduces them and shouts excitedly that this song they’re going to perform, written by keyboardist mark, is all about new beginnings!

jaehyun finds you in the crowd, a secret little smile on his lips before the music starts and to your surprise - and probably everyone elses - they actually do pretty good

the lyrics are so very mark, but johnny brings a flare to the way he sings it

jungwoo seems to have remembered how much he adores drumming again and the way jaehyun looks playing guitar is so enticing that you can’t help but feel a little pride in the fact that you’ve been tasting all of that for most of the summer

the sick feeling in your stomach turns into excitement which turns into just pure enjoyment as you watch your friends and your boyfriend up there having fun

when it’s over and they hop down to mingle back into the rest of the party, you really can’t help yourself and throw your arms around jaehyun

you kiss him - which earns a gasp from mark, a half smirk from jungwoo, and a loud clearing of his throat from johnny

you and jaehyun admit what’s been going on and when johnny just whistles you ask him if he’s not mad

“even if i was mad, you would still keep liking each other right - so what’s the point?”

you hug johnny, and mark, and jungwoo, and like nothing has changed you all fall back into the swing of it

the comfort of being around each other

when you five are the last people in johnny’s messy background you finally decide to tell them all about your summer project

“i knew you’d all say it was lame so i-”

“hey hey hey - it isn’t lame. it’s not what i expect but i get why you’d want to do it.”

johnny pats your shoulder and you feel jaehyun’s hand on the small of your back

it’s the kind of moment you want to never end.

really, you just want this summer to never end.

but when it does - when the day comes for the temperature to drop and for you to be on your way to a new place

you feel the sadness come in a big wave

johnny, mark, jungwoo, and jaehyun all come to say goodbye and you hold the shoebox in your hands - now heavy and filled to the brim with all your memories

before you say it though, each of them adds something

jungwoo drops his samsung internship ID into it

mark places the paper he wrote the draft of the lyrics to the song they performed at the party into it

and johnny chucks a burned CD version of it into the mix

finally, turning to jaehyun, you take in a deep breath

“i know the distance will be big so if you want to break up and-”

he kisses you before you can finish your sentence and slips a small box that you don’t open until you’re already in your new dorm

inside is a small bracelet, engraved on the inside are the words

“i definitely noticed you. it was love at first sight”

years later - jaehyun says those words again

as he’s reading his vows

and you’re feeling the fuzziness, the butterflies, the comforting warmth, everything like a tsunami of all the things that are you and jaehyun

and when johnny shows up to present the rings to you two

they’re in that old shoebox

two little bands at the bottom of all those memories

at the reception, you lean over and whisper to your now husband

“where did you find that old thing by the way?”

jaehyun nuzzles his lips against the cusp of your ear as you watch jungwoo and mark make fools of themselves on the dance floor

“under the bed, where you put everything you care about.”

#WELL !#i really took way too long to write this but just........alot of feelings at once #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au #nct au #nct 127 au #jaehyun #nct #nostolgic au #jaehyun imagines #nct imagines

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

Flowers 4+1// ashton irwin oneshot

A/N: this is my first ever 4+1 fic so I’m kind of nervous, thank you Angie @littledrummerangie for the idea! This is also SUPER indulgent as being a birthday fic for me and a birthday fic with Ashton😅 since mine is the day before his. This has everything I love in it, flowers, hot tubs, a cabin, christmas, love… This is 4 times Ashton gives you flowers and 1 time you give him flowers

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

Enjoy!💕

*****

One

The first time they met was when Andy and Sarah invited Ashton to help her move into her new place. The movers basically set all the boxes and furniture into her house and then left her to her own devices. She called Andy and Sarah for help and if they had any reinforcements it would be greatly appreciated.

She was trying to find wine glasses when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it she had to look up at her guest. His copper brown hair fell in waves and necklaces hung perfectly down his neck, his hazel eyes were bright and friendly.

First, she noticed how good looking he is and the second thing she noticed was the mason jar filled with orange and peach flowers.

“Uh, hi can I help you?” she asks suddenly feeling very self-conscious of her ratty t-shirt and paint splotched shorts.

“I’m Ashton and I’m your honorary mover,” he smiles. “Andy called me. You must be Y/N.”

“Must be. I mean--yes, I am! And oh, right, wow. Sorry, please come in and thank you for helping,” she says, moving aside to let him in.

“Yeah, of course. These are for you,” he holds out the mason jar. “A housewarming gift.”

“Thank you so much,” she smiles, taking the flowers with both hands. Their fingers brush. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really?” his eyes bore into hers and she’s momentarily frazzled.

“Apart from my mom or grandpa but...um, I’ll put these in the kitchen. Andy’s in the bedroom putting the bed together if you’d like to help in there.”

She escapes into the kitchen where Sarah is wiping down the fridge.

“Who was at the door? What pretty flowers!”

“Your friend Ashton and he gave me these,” you touch one of the roses before burying your nose in the plumage. The petals tickle your nose and the scent is wonderful.

“He’s sweet like that,” Sarah smiles. “Did you find the glasses?”

“No,” Y/N huffs, setting the flowers on the counter by the sink. “They’re probably in the bathroom or something.”

“We’ll find them.”

The four of them continue working on unpacking and it isn’t until about 10 o’clock when Andy and Ashton enter the living room.

“The bed, vanity, and dressers are all assembled,” Andy announces wiping at his brow.

“We’re the poor man's Avengers,” Ashton laughs. “We put the bed in the middle of the wall and the vanity next to the window. Best lighting to do make-up.”

“That’s...perfect actually, thank you guys,” Y/N smiles, balling up the newspaper and shoving it in a large garbage bag. She just finished placing her books on the shelves, she’ll sort them later in the week.

“We were thinking of getting pizza,” Andy says.

“Pizza sounds great! Here, I’ll give you some money--”

“No, my treat,” Ashton says, “you’ve been working hard.”

After eating pizza they all went back to unpacking and Ashton made comments about the art pieces she has. He asks where she wants each one hung up.

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll put them up later,” she waves her hand at him.

“It’s my job as honorary mover,” he grins.

Midnight came upon them sooner than she would like. Andy and Sarah headed out because of Pebbles, she’s been cooped up all day so it was just Ashton and Y/N. He asked questions while unpacking to get to know her better and he was very open to her questions.

He stayed until 3 in the morning but he made sure to get her number before he left. She took a photo of the flowers on the counter before going to bed.

Two

She changed her outfit about a dozen times. Her bed was covered in discarded clothes and she still had to put on her makeup. The clock on her wall ticked reminding her that Ashton would be here in a little less than an hour.

It’s been six months since he helped her move in and in that time, they became close. He showed her all of the best coffee shops and bookstores he knew of. He introduced her to the rest of his band and they accepted her kindly.

She accompanied them on outings, parties, and Ashton always made sure to stick close with her. He knew she was shy around new people so he always made sure to include her in conversation.

One night when he was walking her back to her door after going to dinner with the band and their significant others, he was acting strange. He was unusually quiet and she’d find him staring at her across the table.

“So, I’ll see you Monday, right?” she asked, shuffling through her purse for her house key.

“How about Saturday?”

“This Saturday? I thought we were going to try that new restaurant Monday with Andy and Sarah?”

“I mean, we can do that, too but I was thinking...Saturday could just be us. You and me.”

The air changed between them and she stopped looking for her keys. She turned to face him but she couldn’t quite read his expression.

“Oh, okay. Did you want to watch that new movie on Netflix?”

“Y/N, I’m trying to ask you on a date here,” he laughed nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Ask me on a...you are? Oh God, and I’m ruining it. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

“You could never ruin anything,” he smiled. “But, would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” his hazel eyes were hopeful and Y/N couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“I’d love to Ash,” she smiled.

And now here she is, half naked and indecisive on what to wear. She shouldn’t be freaking out like this, it’s Ashton. But it’s also *Ashton. Ashton who can always make her laugh and he makes her feel safe and they always have fun together. But it’s also Ashton who gives her butterflies whenever he touches her lower back and her heart race when he gives her a hug.

Her phone buzzes and it’s Ashton letting her know he’ll be there in forty-five minutes. She lets out a loud groan and goes back to her closet, maybe a new article of clothing she’s never seen will just reappear.

To her astonishment, there was a maroon dress that she wore to a wedding.

“Might as well,” she sighs and puts it on. It really doesn’t look half bad as she looks at herself in the mirror.

She rushes to put on her makeup and by the time she spritzes on her perfume, the doorbell rings. She checks that she has everything in her clutch and moves to the door.

It’s like a deja vu moment from six months ago because he’s handsome as ever and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. His necklaces are perched perfectly in the V of his white button up shirt and it contrasts nicely with his skin. These flowers are full of pink and white flowers with a hint of peach thrown in there. The ivory paper crinkles when his fingers squeeze it, his eyes widen at the sight of her.

“Wow, you look...wow.”

“You’re pretty wow yourself,” she giggles then glances at the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Um, yes,” he holds his hand out, the flowers bumping your chest. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she laughs, taking them from him and buries her face in the center of it. “They smell wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

He follows her into the house, she doesn’t see him glance down at her ass in the dress. He’s rubbing his neck again when she looks at him getting a vase from the counter. She fills it with water and arranges the flowers.

“So, where are we going?”

They’re sitting outside the restaurant, it’s a warm breezy summer night. The rustic atmosphere feels comfortable but when she flicks her gaze at Ashton over the drink menu, he’s drinking his glass of water heartily. His other hand is tapping against the table, it’s a thing he does when he’s nervous.

“Thirsty, huh?” She tries to ease his unusual activity and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, throat’s a little dry,” he clears his throat just as the waitress comes by.

She takes their drink order and Ashton requests a pitcher of water if it’s available. Their roles are reversed, she’s the one doing most of the talking and he’s the one who’s listening. She can tell he’s still being reserved so she takes out her phone and points it at him.

“Smiiile!” She sings turning on portrait mode.

“Why?” He laughs nervously but it makes him smile so she snaps the photo.

“Because, the lighting is perfect and you look cute,” she flirts with a smile.

Ashton laughs again but it’s his real laugh, the laugh that always gets her laughing. She snaps as many photos as she can and it seems to have done the job of making him act like himself. Even though they’ve hung out nearly everyday, the evening still had the air of a first date.

They even tried each other’s food. She stabbed her chicken and noodle with her fork, blew on it, and fed it to him across the table.

“Wow, that is really good,” he hums in approval. He swirls his own noodles on his fork and feeds her slowly.

“That sauce is amazing,” she moans, loving the lemon flavor.

They share a dessert of chocolate mousse and split the strawberry. After dinner, he took her to the art museum. They're open later in the summertime. There were only a few people meandering in the open space and standing stagnant in front of pieces.

“This is why I wanted to bring you here,” he says, taking her hand easily in his own.

Her butterflies returned and he lead her all the way to the back. It was a Claude Monet exhibit and she tried to look at the paintings but Ashton was on a mission to a certain piece. He stops in front of it and she stares in amazement at the painting. It’s of Claude Monet on his boat. She gasps, staring at it and Ashton is staring at her.

It’s the painting she tried to replicate when she was younger in her art class. It’s the painting that introduced her to Monet because the style was similar and it always stuck with her. She told him she wanted to find the painting when they first met and stayed up until 3 in the morning.

“You remembered this?” she asks, stepping closer to it. She makes sure their hands are still locked together, his thumb is rubbing her skin in soothing circles.

“Your eyes always light up when you talk about things that matter to you. They’re always so bright when you talk about him...and when I give you flowers.”

“Ashton this is…” she shakes her head at a loss for words. She gazes upon the painting, loving the visibility of the palette strokes and the blending of the colors. Tears formed in her eyes. “This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she wipes the stray tear that slipped from her eye.

“Hey,” he says softly. His fingers graze her cheek tilting her face towards him.

His thumb rubs at the leftover tear, his own face inching closer to hers. She closes her eyes, exhaling when his lips brush against hers. He squeezes her hand, his lips controlled and gentle yet also hesitant. As if he’s testing the waters.

They unabashedly makeout in front of the paintings and in her mind she’s thinking of what they look like to an outsider. Still life man and woman lost in each other.

Three

The holidays arrived faster than she wanted them to. She still had a ton of shopping to do for her family but at least her flight is scheduled. Ashton is accompanying her on the trip and she’s so excited for him to meet her family.

“Make sure you aren’t doing anything the weekend before the holiday,” he tells her unravelling lights from her box of Christmas decorations.

“How come?” she asks searching through the tv for the claymation movies she loves to watch.

“That’s when I’m going to give you my present.”

“You need a whole weekend to do that?” she laughs.

“I won’t say anything more than that,” he smirks at her.

“I can help with that--”

“I got it sorted,” he waves her off, “you enjoy your movies.”

“Have I told you you’re the most amazing boyfriend?” she wraps her arms around his waist. Ashton shifts the lights into one hand so he can hold her against him with his free hand.

“You’ve never told me that,” he grins and kisses her.

“I’m sure I have,” she mumbles between kisses. Her hands slip under his shirt, thumbs grazing over his warm skin causing Ashton to grunt at the contact.

His hand rubs up her back and into her hair, he breaks the kiss with a shaky breath. “Let me finish putting these lights up and we can get back to this, baby.”

“We could get to this faster if you let me help,” she stresses, pinching his skin. “You never let me do anything.”

“You do plenty, baby,” he smiles, kissing her forehead.

She sighs and retreats to the couch curling up to watch the movie and Ashton wrap and weave the lights around her tree. Two and a half movies later he was finally finished and turned the lights on. The white light reflected on her wooden floor and she beamed at his job well done.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!” she throws her arms around his neck in a big hug.

“My pleasure,” he chuckles and kisses her temple. She starts to give small kisses to his neck, featherlight and ticklish on his skin. “Get outta here, you know I’m ticklish.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” she teases continuing her small attack of affection.

Ashton shifts her in his arms making his way to her couch and drops onto the cushions. She situated herself so she’s straddling his waist. His hands smooth over the curve of her ass while his lips suction kisses along her jaw and to her neck. She shivers at the contact, tugging at his curls when he sucks a mark.

“This is what I’m gonna do about it,” he says gruffly and rocks her against his hips.

“Okay,” she sighs, enjoying his mouth on her neck and the bulge in his pants rubbing against her core with each rock he makes her do. She moans when his hands move to her thighs and gives her a squeeze.

Needing more of him, she drags his head away from her neck so she can feel his lips on her own again. She rolls her hips against his without his help and his hands slip under her shirt, moaning when he feels she’s not wearing a bra.

“Damn, baby,” he growls cupping her breasts together. He tweaks her nipples and she squeaks in his mouth. “You like that?”

“Feels good,” she nods nipping at his lip. His phone rings and buzzes in his pocket, the vibration adds another element to her arousal.

“Leave it, they can leave a message,” he pants, sucking another kiss from her.

His phone stops ringing only for hers to start on the coffee table behind them. She breaks the kiss and turns around trying to see the caller ID.

“Leave it,” he repeats, squeezing her breasts again.

“It could be an emergency,” she reaches for her phone to see it’s Sarah calling. “Hello?” She picks it up staring at Ashton and he smirks, lifting her shirt up. He takes her nipple between his lips and she scowls at him. “Oh, that was tonight? Um, yeah he’s with me. We’ll be right over. Okay, yeah…” she sighs when his teeth tug on her nipple. “See you soon.”

She tosses the phone to the couch and tosses her head back relishing in his mouth on her sensitive bud for a moment longer. Their physical relationship is progressing slowly, they’ve almost had sex three times (now four if Sarah hadn’t called) but she likes the pace they’re going at.

“We need to go to Andy and Sarah’s,” she strokes his cheek curling his hair around his ear.

“Why? I’d rather stay here,” he shifts his mouth to her other breast, his tongue rolling over her nipple salaciously.

“Mm, me too but it’s their Christmas party tonight. And we’re late by two hours,” she snickers, fingers still tangled in his hair. She has goosebumps from what his mouth is doing to her.

“I’m sick, can’t go.”

“Ashton!” she laughs pushing his head away from her chest. “We won’t see them until after the holiday. Come on, let’s go.”

She crawls off him, turns her tv off and changes her top, and puts on a bra. When she comes back Ashton is still sitting on the couch. She leans over the back of it next to his head.

“Do I have to drag you off this couch?” she murmurs in his ear.

“I need a few moments,” he huffs, shifting his legs.

“Oh,” she giggles, seeing exactly why because he still has a prominent bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry. Can I help?” she kisses down his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

“You helped make this problem,” he laughs, turning his head to kiss her lips.

The Christmas party was a hit and it’s the weekend before Christmas. Y/N was awakened by Ashton petting her hair and kissing her cheek, he used the spare key she gave him for emergencies.

“What a way to wake up,” she smiles, pulling him on top of her. His strong arms are caged around her head and his body weight makes her feel protected.

“Your coffee is all ready, now you just have to pack and we’ll be on our way.”

“No breakfast in bed?” She traces his eyebrows.

“I can make you breakfast in bed tomorrow*,” he nuzzles his nose against hers. “There’s a present by your coffee mug if that will help you get your cute ass outta bed.”

Then his weight is off her and she’s left scrambling out of bed to follow him into the kitchen where her coffee is already in her to-go mug with a card and a bouquet of red roses and cranberries inside to make it more of a holiday special. He’s standing next to the small gifts with a grin on his face.

“I love these, they’re so pretty,” she gushes, lifting the bouquet to her nose. She loves the sweet smell of a rose.

“You’re so pretty when I give you flowers,” he comments, lifting up the red envelope.

She holds the flowers against her chest and unfolds the envelope. Inside is a white card with writing formed in the shape of a Christmas tree, a star placed on top. The words read:

“TO A

KIND

STRONG

BRILLIANT

SO BEAUTIFUL

AND TRULY AMAZING

GIRLFRIEND”

Ashton wrote his own inscription inside in his nice loopy script:

‘The past year with you has been one of the best of my life. Our friendship was the perfect foundation for a relationship and I can’t imagine what my world would be like now if you weren’t in it. So this weekend, it will just be me and you in our own little cabin, no interruptions. xx Ash’

“A cabin?”

After the 2 hour and 40 minute flight to Seattle, she and Ashton arrived at the cabin where a dusting of snow covered the ground and a wreath was on the door. Y/N was floored at how beautiful it was and Ashton took her hand leading her up the wooden steps. He took a key out and unlocked the door.

It smelled like cinnamon and Ashton with cozy couches and armchairs, a large rug in front of a stone fireplace and a massive kitchen with a grill attached to a chimney. A Christmas tree was set up with presents scattered underneath and there was a large bouquet of roses on the kitchen table.

“Ash…” she begins and then can’t find more words.

“There’s more, c’mon,” he smiles, leading her up the winding staircase and into a loft area where a futon was and empty bookshelves. There were a few guitars on stands placed in the corner and some incense sticks. “What do you think?” He leans against the railing and Y/N ventures into the room.

“I think it’s wonderful, but there aren’t any books. Is this someone’s cabin and you’re renting it? I can chip in--”

“No, no. It is someone’s cabin...mine.”

She whips around from looking out the half circle window overlooking the backyard where she saw another grill and some chairs.

“This place is yours?”

“Yep. I come here when I need to get away and just let my creative ideas flow. You can fill the bookshelves if you’d like.”

“Ash this is…” she shakes her head then launches herself into his arms for a hug. “This is incredible. And we’re here the whole weekend? Just us?”

“Just us, angel,” he nods, rubbing at her back. “There’s also a hot tub.”

His voice changed at the mention of the hot tub because she didn’t bring a suit.

***

Ashton’s plan for Friday evening was to unpack and go into town for a nice meal. After dinner, they changed into their sleep clothes and snuggled on the couch with hot chocolate watching the first Home Alone movie because they’re her favorite movies. Her mind was on that hot tub and her stomach twisted with excited nerves at the thought of using it. She wanted to use it now but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth each time she tried to bring it up.

She was also thinking of how this would be their first time sleeping together. Ashton never stayed the night because he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. She found it sweet but it also increased her infatuation for him even more.

When she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, he had her lean on him while they walked to the bedroom. The bed was huge with a large comforter and even fluffier looking pillows. It looked heavenly and she slipped inside willingly. She rolled over and became awake again at the look on Ashton’s face.

She tossed over the blanket on his side of the bed and patted the space below the pillow inviting him in. He crawled in carefully and shut the lights off and they were in darkness. Ashton remained sitting against the headboard and Y/N reached out for him in the dark. His forearm was warm and soft.

“Are you going to sleep like that the whole night?” she whispers, giving his arm a squeeze.

“No,” he whispers back, sliding further down the bed. Her hand now rested on his chest, she could feel his heart beating. He turns on his side clutching her hand in his. “Is it weird I’m nervous? I feel like I’m fifteen.”

“You first slept with a girl at fifteen?” she laughs.

“No, I meant--being around girls at that age made me nervous,” he chuckles.

“I’m nervous, too. But in a good way. Just warning you, I’m a kicker so I apologize in advance.”

“Why are we still whispering, we’re the only ones here,” he says, raising his voice to a normal level. That only makes her giggle more.

“I don’t know, it fits the mood with you regressing back to fifteen years old. Our parents could walk in at any moment.” She scoots closer to him, so close that she can feel his breath fan on her face.

“I hope they don’t,” he murmurs, inching closer in the dark until he finds her lips. It’s a tender kiss, the kind of kiss that took her breath away slowly and made her heart smile.

She keeps him close with her hand pressed to his cheek. They kiss and talk in hushed tones until she falls asleep and Ashton tickles up her back until sleep finally finds him, too.

Saturday morning did indeed include breakfast in bed. Ashton made pancakes, bacon, coffee and a small bowl of fruit. His itinerary for the day consisted of lounging around the cabin watching holiday movies and then he was going to make her a steak dinner. She insisted on helping him in the kitchen amidst his protests.

“I’m not a good cook but I’m a very good listener. I’m your sous chef.”

“What does ‘sous chef 'even mean?” he asks getting the ingredients out of the fridge.

“It means ‘under.’”

“Ah, so you’re under me, huh?” he winks.

“Let me help you cook and I just might be,” she challenged with a smile. Ashton shakes his head, a slight blush rising on his cheeks.

She followed his instructions with the garlic and mashed potatoes. The dinner was exquisite paired with a delicious white wine. They each had a full glass, their bellies full and face warm from the wine, they were extra giggly and extra flirty.

“How about that hot tub?” he asks, circling the rim of the wine glass with his finger.

“Did you pack a suit?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Nope.”

“I didn’t pack a suit either,” she points to her chest.

“Must have slipped my mind,” he gulps the last swallow of his wine, eyes on her.

“What a shame.”

He sets his glass on the table and takes her hands in his, his eyes looking almost apologetic. “You can wear a t-shirt and shorts. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He kisses both of her hands.

“Go get the water ready.”

Twenty minutes later, she walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and Ashton is already in the water. His arms are resting on the sides of the tub, his face even redder from the steam, his eyes hold hers steadily.

The confidence she had in the bathroom is gone. She wanted to come out here and just get in the water completely naked, but now she’s nervous because what if she was reading the signs wrong? What if he doesn’t really want to have sex with her?

“Um, can you close your eyes while I get in?” she asks.

“‘Course,” he closes his eyes.

She takes a deep breath dropping the towel. The air kisses her skin and she climbs up the steps carefully. The water is hot as she descends into the tub, she bends down so only her head is exposed above the water. Ashton remains still and she inches closer to him until their knees touch.

“Hi there,” he smiles softly.

“Hi.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

First she nods then realizes he can’t see her so she clears her throat. “Yes.”

He opens his eyes slowly, and they look so pretty in the nighttime sky. He’s looking at her like he’s staring into the full face of the moon, his eyes are full of wonder and adoration and her confidence starts to rise within her.

The longer he looks at her, the more bold she becomes and she rises up from the water. Her breasts are completely exposed. Ashton licks his lips, his eyes lowering over her wet chest. She doesn’t want to break the spell that’s cast between them so she moves towards him slowly, her hands rest on his shoulders. His arms remain on the sides of the tub.

“Ashton.”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me.”

In a flash, his lips are on hers and she’s pressed to his chest. His large hands cover her back, one dips over her ass and she gasps when she feels his hard-on against her thigh. He lifts her effortlessly in the water so she’s straddling him.

Instinctively, she rubs herself against him groaning at how he rubs against her most sensitive area perfectly.

“Need you,” she whispers against his mouth.

“Bed,” he gasps.

They exit the tub excitedly, drying off as quickly as they can and she presses herself against him in front of the bed. Their bodies are warm from the tub and he lifts her in his arms again. She loves feeling his muscles wrapped taut around her, he knees onto the bed and stays there. Their arms are wrapped around each other and they remain kissing.

“Do you have something?” she asks, pulling away to catch her breath. She twists his chest hair in her fingers.

“Um, yeah. Shit, hang on,” he sighs, slipping her back onto the bed. She watches him appreciatively as he skimpers to the kitchen pulling his coat off the hook.

“You have a really nice butt,” she compliments when he returns with a condom in hand.

“Thanks, babe,” he laughs then stops at the foot of the bed staring at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing. You’re perfect.”

She smiles and pulls him on the bed with her again, connecting their lips. He rips open the condom and rolls it on his length. He kneels on the bed again and she’s quick to climb on top, moaning at his shaft rubbing between her folds.

“Such a pretty moan,” he praises, grasping his cock in his hand. He teases her hole with his tip, nudging it inside a few times. Her lower body meets his in a desperate way, small gasps coming from her each inch he goes in deeper.

“Please, Ash...want all of you,” she knocks her forehead against his.

He takes a deep breath and pushes all the way in, his eyes watching her as her mouth opens and her eyes close at being filled. Their bodies tremble together and they remain still, experiencing being connected for the first time.

“Good?” he asks, rubbing her nose affectionately.

“Mhm,” she nods and starts to roll her hips against him. “Ohhh…” she lets out a shuddering breath.

He follows her rhythm easily, arms wrapped around her, enjoying the way she rides on top of him. He kneads her ass as she moves, her breath picking up and when he can’t take it anymore, he rises on his knees, her legs fall on either side of him and she gasps.

He rests her on her back gently, resting his chest against hers so that they’re still touching and rocks his hips in even thrusts. He slips his tongue in her mouth just as her legs wrap around his waist. She moans when he picks up the pace, her lower half meeting his thrusts perfectly.

“Are you close baby?” he pants feeling her walls start to flutter around him. “So good for me...so perfect...taking me so well.”

“Don’t stop,” she moans tilting her head back. Ashton pounds into her faster, each time he thrusts in she clenches around him a bit more tightly.

“Fuck…” he hisses when she clenches and stays that way. Her moans are loud in his ear and he always wants to be the one that makes her sound like that. He can’t hold his climax off with her sounding like that and he’s coming with her. “I love you,” he groans loudly in her neck.

When they recollect their breathing she holds his face in her hands.

“What did you say?” she gasps out, eyes wide with lust and surprise.

“I love you,” he breathes, stroking her temple with his thumb. “You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted to tell you that this weekend, too. It’s hard for me to say out loud and with just us--”

She kisses him fiercely.

“I love you, too.”

Four

When she went to work there was a flower arrangement at her desk with a note from Ashton wishing her a great last day before her vacation for her birthday and his birthday. Hers was the day before his and everyone wanted them to do a joint party when they found that out.

“No, that’s weird,” she scrunched her nose at the suggestion.

“Yeah, we aren’t siblings. That’s gross,” he agreed.

She took the week off for their birthdays so they could maybe go to the cabin or even rent a house on the beach. She loved her birthday but whenever she made plans, they always fell through or people never showed up.

She texted him that the flowers were beautiful and she couldn’t wait to spend the day with him the next day. When she got home, he was already there wearing an all black outfit with his shirt open. He knows how much she likes seeing his chest.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she holds up the vase of pink peonies showcasing them. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Kiss me first,” he puckers his lips at her.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggles and steps on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. They always kiss each other hello.

“Now, go get changed. We’ve got plans,” he grins.

“What kind of plans?”

“Look on your bed and see,” he nods to her room down the hall. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.”

She shakes her head and does what he says. On her bed is a dress she always ogled when they were at the mall, Ashton clearly bought it for her. He spoils her too much. Next to the dress is a black satin blindfold. She narrows her eyes at the blindfold but quickly changes into the dress.

“What is this for?” she asks, stepping out into the living room with the blindfold in her hands.

“For your eyes. Turn around.”

“Are we roleplaying?” she asks, turning her back to him.

“No,” he laughs, placing the fabric over her eyes.

He helps her walk to his car and she’s asking him so many questions. He refuses to answer them and laughs at her outlandish predictions of taking her away to a private island.

His hand is firm in hers when they’re walking to wherever they’re going. She stumbles a little because she doesn’t know the terrain but it feels like pavement under her feet.

“Are we there yet?” she asks.

“Almost. Okay, there’s a few steps. Up, up, up, up, and last one. Good. Okay, I’m going to take it off you now.”

She feels him move behind her. He unties the blindfold slowly and it drops from her eyes. She blinks slowly to get used to the light and is met with all of their friends and family before her. There’s flower arches behind them and they’re all wearing flower crowns on their heads.

“SURPRISE!” They shout and she gasps when they start to sing Happy Birthday.

Sarah wheels in a cake with flowers sprawled over it and her name in the middle. Y/N grasps Ashton’s hand in her own, tears forming in her eyes. His other arm wraps around her waist, his chin rests on her shoulder as he sings softly in her ear.

“...dear Y/N...Happy Birthday to you…”

She wipes at her eyes overcome with emotion from the surprise and that Ashton went through all this trouble.

“Make a wish, angel,” he murmurs in her ear.

She closes her eyes, thinks of a wish, and blows out the candles. Everyone cheers and she twists around to give Ashton a big kiss. There’s even more cheers for that and then she’s whisked away for hellos and hugs. Flowers are hanging from the ceiling like vines and she’s never been surrounded by so many flowers.

“Were you surprised?” Sarah asks as a waiter starts to cut the cake.

“Totally surprised. But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” she gives Ashton a side eye.

“You told me you wanted to spend it with me, so your party with everyone else is today,” he smiles.

“And all these flowers? I love it all so much, thank you.”

“Your eyes will have that shine all night,” he grins, kissing her nose.

One

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Ashton laughs behind her as they trek through the woods by the cabin.

After her surprise party, on her actual birthday they spent the first half watching movies and the second swimming at the beach. They had a late flight to go to the cabin. Upon arrival, Ashton spent the last hour of her birthday pleasuring her with his mouth and fingers. When the clock struck midnight, she flipped him over with a smirk.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she whispered and slid down his body so she could please him.

She loves hearing his moans just as much as he loves hearing hers. She loves how one hand is fisted in her hair and the other rests behind his head watching her go down on him.

“Yes, I know where I’m going. Come on birthday boy.” She ducks under a branch then sees the clearing ahead.

“I’m twenty-seven, I’m not a boy,” he grunts.

“Sorry, old man,” she teases and he smacks her ass playfully.

When they come into the clearing, there’s a red and white checkered blanket in the grass with a large basket in the center. Wildflowers surround it in purples, yellows, oranges and a few reds. It’s a magical place.

“Did you do all this?” he asks seeing the set up.

“I did. Come on, there’s more.”

They kick off their shoes and sit on the blanket. She opens the basket taking out his favorite foods and a wrapped gift.

“I told you, you don’t have to get me anything,” he sighs while taking the gift. “You’re more than enough.”

“I know, but it’s part of my love language. And it’s homemade anyway,” she shrugs. “Open it up.”

He unwraps the corners before tearing the paper all the way off. He stares at it in his hands for a long time. She made him a shadow box frame with a picture of them when they were at the beach during sunset. It was their favorite picture and surrounding it were dried flowers.

“Do you know what these are?” she asks, pointing to the flowers.

“Flowers?” he chuckles touching the glass.

“This one is from the first flowers you brought me when you helped me move in, these are from our first date, this is from Christmas and the small cranberry. These are from work and my birthday, and these are from Valentine’s Day. These are all the flowers you’ve given me,” she smiles and he looks at her stunned.

“You kept them all?”

“You’re the only one who ever bought me flowers and I loved them all so now you have them, too.”

“This is incredible, I love it. Thank you,” he reaches over to give her a kiss.

“Wait, there’s more,” she grins and reaches into the basket again. She pulls out live flowers arranged in a pretty bouquet. “These are for you.”

“Baby,” he stressed in astonishment and set the picture frame next to him.

He pushes her back on the blanket kissing her with all he’s got. The flowers get crushed and some stick in her hair but they’re surrounded by love and the sweet smell of flowers and kiss with passion.

“Happy Birthday my love,” she gazes up at him and sticks a flower behind his ear.

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#ashton irwin oneshot #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #ashton fluff #ashton oneshot #ashton 5sos writing #5sos writing

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part V

[ previous ] Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x Reader, Zeke Jaeger x Reader wc: ~ 8.8k Warnings: pining, testosterone, Zeke being a dick (who woulda thought), subtle manipulation (both on Zeke’s part that goes unchecked and accidentally on Mike’s part) A/N: Well, we’re gettin’ there. We’re truckin’ along. I’m sorry for the last chapter. And, I’m sorry for this one. But, I do still hope you enjoy it. I think we’re at the halfway mark here.

Mike gets a text from you at nine PM three days before he’s supposed to go back to campus. It’s just a few words, a question that makes his heart drop to his stomach because you’ve never asked it before.

Can we talk for a sec?

He waits for a few minutes, tries to get rid of the panicked feeling rising in his chest, but he can’t get it to go away entirely, so he just bites the bullet and calls you.

“Heyyy,” you greet. Mike can already tell a difference in your tone. Something is definitely going on.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just, uh…” He hears you suck on your front teeth, a nervous habit he’s well versed in now, then you tell him, “I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back here.”

Mike swallows. “Heads up about what?”

Are you leaving? Did you fail your summer classes despite all his help? Did you get into some kind of accident?

You let out a long breath that Mike wishes he could feel on his skin. He wishes he could see your expression, wishes he could hold your face in his hands and tell you that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Seems like he’s always wishing for things.

“Um, I—uh… I’m kind of seeing someone.”

The floor falls out from beneath him, and Mike drops with it, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grits his teeth, trying to breathe normally—in through the nose, out through the mouth. This is about the last thing he expected you to confess.

It’s apparently taking too long for him to gather himself, because you say his name, “Miche?” and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I’m here. It’s, uh, fine,” he lies. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” You sound worried, as you should because while Mike isn’t mad, he’s extremely disappointed, probably the most he’s ever been.

Taking a page out of your book, he tries to play it cool, act like he doesn’t care. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, you—...” Met your mom? Learned your secrets? Tried to tell you that he loved you? All valid responses, but you just dismiss it with a quiet, “Nevermind.”

Mike hums, lets the line go silent for a while, then musters the courage to question, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What do you mean ‘you think so’?”

“I mean he’s mentioned you, so I figure you’ve had at least a few conversations.” You’re getting that sassy tone, the one that signals you want to drop the subject, but you can’t this time. You’ve already warned Mike that you’re off the god damn market. You might as well tell him who exactly he’s gonna see you holding hands and sucking face with. It’s the merciful thing to do.

“It’s not one of the Pike guys, is it?”

“No, no,” you laugh and it makes Mike want to scream because he doesn’t find this amusing at all, and it only gets worse when you finally answer, “It’s Zeke Jaeger.”

Mike nearly hangs up then and there, but he somehow fights the urge. He does hold his phone away from his ear, though, stares up at his ceiling for a few seconds and stretches his arm out, then brings the device back. “Cool. He’s a… Talented dude.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I’m not exactly starstruck or anything. Not after hangin’ out with you all of last year.”

Mike rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of his skull. “You don’t have to make this about me, ba—...” He catches himself before finishing the pet name. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t call you what he wants to. He can’t flirt or smooth hair out of your face. He can’t pick you up and hold you against the walls of the house. He can’t show you how much he cares for you.

“I know. I just feel kinda bad,” you mumble.

“You shouldn’t. It’s cool.” His flat tone is anything but cool, and you can probably tell, but there’s not much Mike can do about that.

You’re pouting when you question, “You’ll still be my friend?” Mike can see the expression without actually seeing it, the doe eyed look you’d be giving him if he were in front of you right now. He can also imagine looping his arms around you and smiling crookedly and kissing your forehead, and fuck, he feels broken.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Good.”

You lapse into another silence, just breathing and waiting for the other to break. It’s you who does. You clear your throat and state one more time, “I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

“See you in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Mike is barely listening at this point, just looks at the poster on the wall and lets it fall out of focus. “See ya’.”

You don’t hang up immediately, like you’re waiting for him to say something else, but Mike saves you the trouble and presses the ‘end’ button on his phone then tosses it on his pillow and falls back onto the mattress.

He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of it. You’ve gone an entire year denying him, keeping yourself closed off and never once bringing up the possibility of actually being together. After all the time spent together, after all the date parties, all the sex, staying at each others’ houses. He feels like he knows you better than anyone else probably does. You let him in. You let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. You acted like you trusted him.

So, why isn’t he your first choice? As soon as you realized you were ready to make a fucking commitment to someone, why wasn’t it him?

Mike doubts he’ll ever get the closure. He’ll just have to cope with seeing you around campus with Zeke god damn Jaeger, have to pretend like everything is fine, like you haven’t ripped his heart out of his fucking chest.

Unbearable. It’s going to be absolutely unbearable.

Moving somewhere new always blows. It takes so much energy that Mike doesn’t have, yet here he is, hauling bags and boxes up to his new apartment unit. Honestly, he would almost prefer to stay in the frat house instead of having to make all the trips up and down these god damn concrete stairs, but at least now he’ll finally be away from all the parties. That will definitely come in handy this year considering he’s not gonna want to go to a single fucking one of them.

Once all of his belongings are stacked in his fairly small living room, Mike glances around his new haven, already thinking about how empty it feels without all the guys milling about and dicking around. He doubts he’ll miss the constant noise, but it’s still something that will take some getting used to.

What he will miss is seeing you all the time, waking up in his old room to see you still fast asleep on his pillows, sitting in the main room with the others, heckling them as they play various games. He’s been focusing on the small things for the last couple of days, the things he never took the time to really enjoy. It feels like he didn’t stare long enough or laugh hard enough when he had the chance, and now he doesn’t know when his next opportunity to do either of those with you will be.

Mike scrubs a hand down his face, scratches the hair he’s let grow out a little too much, then slowly begins to unpack his things. He’s being melodramatic, he knows, but he can’t help it. He can either let himself feel sad, or he can let the unbridled fucking rage take over, and out of the two, he prefers the former.

Mike’s class schedule gets pinned to the wall in his bedroom. His laptop gets set up. Textbooks are tossed into a corner. He really doesn’t care to do much more than that, but he figures he should make the place at least a little presentable. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone to entertain.

The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach, but it’s a sensation he’s slowly getting used to as more time passes.

Mike knows he needs to pull himself together, needs to put on a brave face. Pretty soon all the frats will be dealing with the dirty rushers, all the kids who weren’t able or didn’t think to suck up to the brothers during the spring. Then there’s inductions and hazing… Fuck, fall semesters are so tedious even without living in the house. He’s never been a huge fan of it all, but he’s had this image to uphold since he became a pledge.

Now, Mike isn’t so sure he can keep that image in place.

He stays locked away for as long as he possibly can, but eventually there’s a knock on his front door—Erwin who shoots Mike a broad grin and wriggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “You ready, bro? Got a place all your own with no one to bother you—”

“You’re bothering me.”

“Can do whatever you want,” Erwin powers on, completely unfazed. “Bring back whoever you want, no pesky frat boys to get in your way ‘cause fuck those guys, right?” He goes to grab Mike’s shoulders while laughing at his own joke, but Mike swats him away.

It makes Erwin scoff, and then he’s pushing past Mike to get into his new home, looking around for just a second and breathing out a little, “Eesh,” before turning back and giving Mike a look of condescension. “Don’t tell me this bad mood is because of your little toy finding someone else.”

“Okay, firstly, fuck off,” Mike squints at him. “And, secondly, how do you already know about that?”

Erwin examines his manicured nails, buffs them on his shirt and tells Mike, “Saw her and Jaeger walking out of the bookstore earlier. They looked pretty cozy. Pretty giddy, too, all smiles and—”

“Shut. The fuck up.”

The other man snorts. “Calm down, dude. I’m sure you can get her back or whatever you’re trying to do. Zeke’s an assole. Won’t take her long to figure it out.”

“We’ll see.”

This time Mike lets Erwin clap a hand on his shoulder before he walks out but not without suggesting, “You really should brighten things up a little in here. Hang some fairy lights or something. Girls love fairy lights.”

Mike rolls his eyes, not bothering to remind his friend that he only started unpacking half an hour ago, then physically shoves Erwin out of his apartment.

So, you’re already walking around campus flaunting your new little fling, he thinks. Perfect. He’s really looking forward to seeing that everywhere.

Mike eventually has to go by the PKA house for a meeting. Some of the members are already discussing plans for rush week and parties. Should they have lists or just keep them open and direct everyone to the yard? Are they gonna stick to their regular forms of hazing or should they change things up this year? Did anyone stick out from spring? Mike doesn’t pay much attention, just scrolls through his phone skimming through the same three social media apps over and over. He reads through the text thread he shares with you, the one he’s never deleted, and thumbs all the way up to a few months ago just to see if anything had been different back then, if he had said or done something wrong.

But, he’s gone through it a dozen times already, and he never finds anything. Maybe you just grew while he was away, experienced some kind of self-actualization that prepared you for an actual relationship.

Or, maybe Zeke just has something that Mike doesn’t.

Mike runs into you on the second day of classes. Thankfully, you’re alone, and as soon as you catch sight of him, you grin widely and launch yourself at him. It comes as a surprise, your full weight hitting him square in the chest when you jump, and he has to catch you like you’re an excited child.

It’s too close. You’re too close. Body against his as you slide down to your actual height and rest your head on his chest.

“I missed you, Zacharias.”

He wants to lift you up again, lock your thighs around his waist and kiss you like he used to. Instead, Mike pats the top of your head and gently untangles you from himself. He makes sure to smile when you look up at him, and he’s glad you aren’t pouting or frowning, your expression soft when he tells you, “Yeah, I missed you too.”

He asks how your summer classes went. You ask what his course load is like this semester. It’s just small talk, and Mike hates it.

“How’re your parents?” You question like you’re interested, but he can’t imagine you actually are.

“They’re good,” he shrugs. “Dad got a promotion at work a few weeks ago. Mom is doing the same shit she always does.” Like, making his favorite meals to heal his poor little broken heart. Mike hadn’t even told her about the conversation he’d had with you, and yet, as soon as he came out of his room the following morning, she just knew.

“Glad to hear it,” you nod. “Hey, do you wanna grab lunch or something? My next class isn’t til two, so I’m tryin’ to kill some time.”

“Actually, I told Erwin I’d meet him,” Mike lies through his teeth. He’ll be using excuses like that for as long as he can. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cool,” you wave him off. “I’ll just grab Hitch or—”

“There you are.” Mike stiffens at the vaguely familiar voice ringing out from behind him, hand flexing by his side as the school’s golden boy walks right past him and to you. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Well, here I am,” you laugh, but Mike notes how forced it sounds. It’s a laugh that stems from nerves, he thinks. But why? Is it because Mike is here? Are you afraid of how he’ll act? Or, is it that you’re still in the phase of this “relationship” with Zeke that you’re still anxious around him?

The other man doesn’t even acknowledge Mike for a full twenty seconds. He heavily considers just walking away without a word, but the blond does eventually turn around to look at him and shows a smile that Mike would describe as slimy but you would probably call charming.

“Zacharias,” Zeke greets and holds out a hand. “It’s been a minute.”

Mike doesn’t like the way he says his last name. He only likes the way his friends say it. How you say it. Even if it started off as a way to keep your distance, he grew fond of it. Not as fond as his given name, of course, but hearing those four syllables from your mouth, always laced with attitude, never fails to make him smile.

“Yeah, it has,” Mike agrees, clasping hands with him.

He immediately feels Zeke stick his index finger out over his wrist, an attempt of taking control of the shake. Mike has seen it too many times to count, the petty attempt to flip hands so that one man’s is on top of the other. It’s a terrible way to flaunt one’s masculinity or power, and it’s never worked on Mike.

His hand is quite a bit larger than most people’s, after all. It’s definitely larger than Zeke’s, so when he tries to turn it, Mike doesn’t have a problem keeping his wrist straight.

The blond has to look up at him, actually tilt his head back because Mike has a good five inches on him, and after a couple more seconds, Zeke gives up on the pathetic display of dominance. That doesn’t stop Mike from squeezing his palm just a little too hard, though, just enough to see the muscles in Zeke’s jaw twitch.

When he lets go he chances a glance at you, finding you rubbing your temples. You mumble something Mike can’t hear, probably about men being stupid because there’s no way that little show escaped your notice.

Zeke steps over to you once again and asks the same question you had asked Mike—”You wanna get lunch, babe?”

Hearing him calling you that causes Mike’s blood to bubble in his veins, blistering from the inside out. It’s time for him to leave.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. Eyes flicking back to Mike, you force another smile and tell him, “See you around.”

The two of you walk off, and Mike watches for just a little too long as Zeke laces his fingers with yours. Once you’re both a safe distance away, the fucker looks back at Mike from over his shoulder and smirks at him.

Mike has long legs. He could easily catch up to you and punch Zeke square in the jaw, make his head snap to the side so that he drops to the ground.

But, what would you think of that? There’s no way you’d be happy with him, and if there’s one thing that would be worse than Mike having to see you parade around with someone who isn’t him, it would be you ignoring him completely.

The first couple of weeks are honestly a blur. Too much is happening for Mike to focus on. The only thing that seems real to him is the ache in his chest. It distracts him day in and day out, through the late rushers and all the sucking up, through the first couple of parties, bid day and the first rounds of hazing. It’s just always there.

He is notably quieter when in the house, and it seems like everyone knows why. While Erwin pokes fun at him for his moodiness, Nile takes a more adult approach and simply asks how he’s doing, if he needs anything, going as far as offering, “You need me to punch that dude in the throat? Plant drugs in his bag? I’m pretty sure Gelgar has coke on his person at all times.”

He’s a good guy. Mike is glad he got voted in as PKA President this year despite Erwin giving him a run for his money. Nile is just personable enough to bring members in and have a good time at events, and just controlling enough to make sure things in the house are taken care of. Plus, Erwin doesn’t seem too broken up about getting Vice instead.

It’s a relief when lacrosse starts back up, finally gives him a way to get some of his frustration out. The other teams have never been luckier to be wearing helmets otherwise Mike would have broken several noses within the first game alone.

The season has some overlap with baseball, games scheduled on the same day, sometimes at the same time. Mike keeps himself from looking into the stands to try to find you, scared that you’ll be there or scared that you won’t be, he isn’t sure.

And, of course, Zeke’s face is plastered everywhere after he pitches a perfect fucking game. Mike wants to be angry, wants to spit on the flyers and punch every computer that’s displaying the college’s home screen, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that if it were anyone else, Mike would be impressed. Pitching a perfect game is pretty fucking cool, and the school is lucky to have a player as talented as Zeke, but god, what Mike wouldn’t do to just curbstomp him.

Your name still lights up on his phone fairly often to ask how games went or how his classes are going. You’ve asked for help with homework on one occasion and lunch on another, but after Mike lies about only being able to walk you through the material over the phone and shoots you down for lunch, you seem to get the picture.

He doesn’t want it to be awkward between you, but he doesn’t know how to act now. His entire relationship with you started off as a drunken fuck, and it’s been mostly physical since then. How is he supposed to be able to spend time with you without touching you? Even the semester you refused to hook up with him, there were still times when you were both actively fighting the temptation. Mike can remember seeing it in your eyes all the time, probably just as often as you’d see it in his. You’d sit with a leg pressed against his, fall asleep on his arm every once in a while, and he wants that back now, but there’s no way the two of you can do that anymore. He doesn’t possess the same self-control.

Over the weekend, you end up cracking and trying again, asking for help with studying for a quiz, and Mike has to contemplate it for at least fifteen minutes before he gives in.

Coffee shop on 7th? you text him, and Mike chuckles to himself. The only places you’ve ever studied together is at the library or in his room, and while he could only get as far as a hand between your legs in the school building, he would usually end up in bed with you whenever going over something behind closed doors.

It makes sense that you want to go to a busier place, more eyes to watch you. It’s irritating, but he understands.

Mike grabs one of his own textbooks from the previous year, the one he actually bought so that he could highlight and take notes in the margins, then makes his way to the little cafe.

He’s been to this particular shop many times before, with you as well as the girls who came before—the ones that never mattered. Mike easily spots you at a little table by the window, your own book and several papers spread out around you. When you see him, you grin then hurry to clear a space for him, organizing what Mike recognizes as reading guides.

“Hey, stranger," you greet.

Mike nods, eyes landing on the green hoodie you’re wearing, the one that covers too much of you, that spills over the tops of your legging clad thighs and hides your little hands. It’s his, but it’s always looked better on you. The fact that you still wear it makes Mike’s heart swell a tiny bit as he takes his seat. The sun is hitting you just right and making your face glow, making your eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t know if he can do this.

“So, what d’you need help with?” He prompts before he can make up his mind to turn right back around.

You slide one of the guides over to him and point out several circled questions. The blanks are filled in, but you ask him, “Why?” dramatically. “None of that makes sense to me.”

Mike laughs through his nose and glances at the page your textbook is flipped to so he can open his own.

“Why’d you keep your book from last year?”

He glances up before turning it to show the highlighted lines, the starred passages, the little annotations for better understanding.

“One, because I worked hard on making it better, and two,” he feels his mouth curl up, the teasing coming naturally when he tells you, “I figured you’d probably benefit from it.”

You squint at him, scrunching your nose up, and Mike takes a mental snapshot to tuck away.

“Rude,” you utter.

He raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. “I think ‘thank you’ is the term you’re looking for.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain this to me if you’re so smart.”

“You know I’m smart.”

Mike doesn’t understand where the casual back-and-forth is coming from. Is it easy because he's done it so many times before? Words tumble from his mouth before they actually cross his mind, and he’s both grateful (it’s better than the awkward small talk he thought he’d have to make) and worried. If he’s speaking without actually thinking things through, what else might he do before his brain catches up? Will he smooth hair out of your eyes? Will he brush his hand over yours? Will he stare at your lips for too long? All of those are habits he hasn’t managed to break yet, but he will break if he accidentally offends you by crossing any of these lines.

He sits with his hands tucked between his legs, only moving to flip a page or point something out with his pinky finger. He's reading upside down, and you're leaning over the tabe, staring at the book then staring at him. Mike tries to look through you instead of at you, but it's hard as you let out a little oh! when something clicks or pouting when it doesn't.

"I still don't get it."

So, Mike finds different ways of explaining things because he knows this information very well now. It's still pretty fresh in his brain, and he may or may not have reviewed some of it when he saw how many of your classes matched up with his.

"Okay, I feel a lot better," you sigh once Mike has gone through every page.

Mike is more or less sitting on his hands at this point, gritting his teeth behind the grin plastered on his face because this is the part where he asks if you wanna go back to the house. This is the part where you wind down together, watching dumb TV shows or pawing at each other, rolling in his bed and laughing and moaning. That's what's supposed to happen.

"Alright, well, if that's it, I should get going," Mike tries, stretching his arms out and nearly smacking the person sitting behind him right in the head.

You snort, cover your mouth, and look away. It's what you always do. You can't look at him when you start laughing or you'll just laugh harder and harder, and while Mike adores it, the general public usually does not.

But, then Mike is snickering because he can feel the stranger trying to burn holes in the back of his skull, has to bite his fist to keep himself quiet, and when you chance a glance and see, you slam your head down on the table, whole body shaking with giggles.

It's always the little things that get you. On one of the walks with Scout over Spring Break, Mike had tripped over a stick on the trail. He managed to catch himself, but Jesus Christ, you didn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

"God fucking—" he's starting to lose it too as he stands and gathers your supplies from the table, tucking them all under one arm then using his other to pull you out of your seat. "We have to leave before they make us."

You hide your face in your hands, trusting Mike to guide you by the shoulders, and once you're both outside, you belly laugh until you wave your arms and gasp, "I can't—I can't breathe—I can't breathe!" Your voice is all high pitched and hysterical, and all Mike can do is bring you to his chest so that you can let your giggles die off in the privacy of his t-shirt.

He can feel your breath through the material as you calm down, eventually looking up and wiping tears from your eyes as you continue to grin.

Mike tilts his face down to stare at you, aware that all of his affections are shining right through his eyes, but he doesn't care because you don't seem to.

“You’re a fucking dork,” he hums, has a fully conscious thought of touching your face—no accident, no impulse, a complete, coherent, thought, so he does it. He just does it. Palm over your cheek, thumb gently tracing to wipe away another tear from your little fit.

You let out a long exhale, close your eyes and hum, then reach up to cover Mike's hand with yours.

Your fingers lock into the spaces between his, and you hold on for a few seconds before letting your hand fall, taking his with it. And, just like that, all the good feelings that had grown inside of him over the course of the study session disappear.

"Miche," you sigh, still holding onto two of his fingers.

He smiles in a way that makes you frown, then mumbles, "Yeah, I know."

After handing your supplies back, Mike kisses you on the top of the head before you can stop him, then turns and starts walking toward the street his apartment is on.

"Why are you always wearing that hoodie?"

You look up from your laptop just as Zeke steps out of his room freshly showered and shirtless. It's a sight that should probably make your mouth water, but instead it's gone dry at his question.

"Oh, uh, I don't really know," you bullshit. "It's just big and comfortable, I guess."

Zeke uses the towel around his neck to dry his hair a little better, questions, "Well, whose is it?" while his face is slightly obscured.

If you pause, he'll probably be suspicious. If you answer, he will also be suspicious. And, you can't really blame him. People know you on campus as Mike Zacharias' friend or girlfriend or plaything or whatever. You assume Zeke having to walk around with that hanging over his head is pretty annoying.

"Oh, wait," he starts before you can answer. Squinting without his glasses, he grumbles, "That's one of the lacrosse hoodies, isn't it?"

You look down at the cracked logo and try not to smile at it. "Yeah. It's one of Mike's old ones."

"Right." He pads over to you and takes your laptop from your legs despite your protests of being in the middle of an online assignment, setting it on the coffee table behind him. Then, using one arm to brace himself on the back of the couch, Zeke holds himself above you and takes your chin between two fingers so that he can tilt your face and kiss you.

It makes you melt. It always does. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest for about two seconds before it relaxes into a subtle thrumming, a white noise that drowns out everything else.

You straighten your back in an attempt to get closer, but Zeke pulls away ever so slightly, makes you chase after his lips and you do. You do because you want more, want him.

It's been weeks now and the farthest you've gotten with him, the farthest he's let you get with him, was the series of harsh kisses he'd ladened you with up against his front door a few days ago. He'd pushed your shirt up and shoved a knee between your legs, giving you something to grind against, but it never progressed to anything more.

You don't understand. It's not like he's never had sex. You've heard girls talk about him on campus, how he'd been seeing so-and-so for a couple months in freshman year, fucked some other chick at a party, etc., etc.

Then you'd met his actual ex the other day, one he dated officially for a semester last year before breaking things off. Her name is Rhi. She's very pretty. And, she had pulled Zeke into a full blown conversation without looking at you once. The way she batted her eyes and smiled at him, twisting her hair and shoving at him playfully—Oh yeah. She's definitely seen him naked.

You didn't say anything about it for a while, just stewed in silence until Zeke finally sighed and asked, "What would you like to know?"

He'd given you the vague outline—met her in class, studied together, decided to date, left her to focus on baseball. That excuse hit a little too close to home, but you'd let it roll off your shoulders.

The point is Zeke has fucked other girls, but he won't fuck you, and you need to know why because you're starting to get desperate. It's not a good look. It's one you never wanted to wear, but the way he stares at you and the way he talks to you, always pointing out your strengths, encouraging you, complimenting you is intoxicating.

When Zeke's eyes are on you, it’s like you're the most important person in the room. He has some ability to make you feel that way, to make everyone feel that way you realized one night after a game. People flock to him. They want to listen to what he has to say. They want to agree with him where he can see.

It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't met him, but the best way you can describe it (a way only a few people will understand) is that he has a twenty for charisma. He's talented and smart and engaging, can convince anyone of anything the same way he's convinced you that he wants you.

Hand slipping behind your arching back, Zeke presses you against him for just a moment, then drops onto the couch next to you only to tug you on top of him.

You're already breathing too heavily, clutching his face in both your hands as you grind your hips against his. He squeezes your ass, smirking against your mouth when you whimper, then moves his hands to push both the hoodie and your shirt off.

You lift your arms, letting Zeke strip you as your mind grows hazy. He mutters more to himself than to you, a low, "Get this shit off," then carelessly tosses your clothes over the armrest.

Fingers climb up your ribs, almost tickling, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel that he's getting hard, thank god. This just might be the night, please fucking let it be.

You've never been a big fan of terms like ‘blue-balls’ or ‘blue-bean’, never even thought it existed, and it really doesn't; it's just a form of manipulation, of guilting your partner into sex, and you know this because you've had an entire rant about it prepared since high school, but right now, in this particular moment, you're aching. Your insides ache. Your clit aches. You just want—

Zeke pinches one of your nipples hard enough to clear your head for a second, causes you to cry out and pull back. He lets go, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you and flicks over the sore bud with a fingertip.

"Zeke," you breathe, body trembling.

"What is it, baby?" He coos.

"I—"

He snakes a hand between the two of you, ridding you of any and all thoughts as he rubs over your covered pussy. You're almost positive that if he keeps doing it, you'll start to leak through your leggings, right into his hand.

Panting, an old track plays in the back of your head, a deep voice, breathy and promising, gonna fuck you dry tonight.

You lean forward to kiss Zeke again, letting him suck and bite hard enough to make the frown on your face look natural, like he put it there.

Flames are licking up and down your legs, then your arms, but even though it's Zeke's lap you're sitting in and Zeke's tongue in your mouth and Zeke's fingers massaging your pussy, it's suddenly Mike you're thinking about, and well… That can't be good.

You tangle your hands in Zeke's hair, the different texture bringing you back to reality. His thick beard is scratching against your face. His bare torso is wiry with muscle and pressed to yours. He moves his hand and raises his hips to meet yours, a groan catching in his throat. It looks like he's finally losing his composure, cheeks flushed, eyes are foggy. When you break away, he licks away the string of spit holding you together, tongue running over his lip seductively.

"Can we—" you start, but Zeke speaks at the same time.

"It's getting late."

Blinking at him, you find yourself experiencing too many emotions to actually identify a single one. You feel your eyebrows knit together, but it’s more from your confusion than it is your frustration.

But, you don’t want to be frustrated. You don’t want to be or look upset about not getting sex. That would make you a terrible person, and you’re not about to make him feel bad for not being ready to take that step with you. You’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it doesn’t feel good.

The amount of times you’ve had to masturbate in the last few weeks is a little fucking ridiculous, though.

Nodding mostly to yourself to get your thoughts back in line, you slide off of Zeke to stand up. Your hand is trembling when you reach for your clothes, heat still coursing through you, but you manage to gently grab them from the couch rather than snatch them.

Shirt and hoodie back in place, you gather your things, feeling Zeke’s gaze on you the entire time. You don’t say anything, just nibble on your bottom lip as you run over all the events that took place over the night, what you possibly did wrong, what turned him off or just failed to turn him on in the first place.

After slipping everything back into your bag, Zeke finally gets to his feet and takes it from you, walking with you outside to your car.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells you, the picture of calm and collected while your body remains buzzing.

“Okay, yeah.”

He puts your stuff in the front passenger seat, shuts the door, and gives you a sweet little peck that you wish lasted longer.

Zeke says good night, begins walking back to the building, but stops and calls to you right before you shrink into the car.

Even from this distance, you can tell he’s looking you dead in the eye, face suddenly very serious when he tells you, “You can go ahead and stop wearing that hoodie.”

* For the first time since the semester started, lacrosse and baseball games do not overlap one another, and you're able to spend the warm afternoon in the stands, cheering on the friends you made over the last year.

The home team is dominating, Mike and Erwin are too fucking quick for their opponents to get in the way of. The way the ball just flies back and forth between them, like a game of keep-away, shows just how on-the-same-page they are. The other guys are good too, doing a spectacular job of staying one leg ahead, defending their star players and assisting in the offensive effort.

The last goal is made by Mike who launches the ball from the center of the field right into the goal, and both the crowd and the teams lose their fucking minds.

You're up on your feet screaming and clapping, voice breaking as your shrill cry tears your throat. You know you're being drowned out by everyone around you, but as Mike gets lauded for being the god he is—putting up with backslaps and hugs and a headlock from Erwin—he still manages to find you in the second row, grinning in that crooked way you love so much.

You don't know exactly when that started happening, probably sometime after Spring break. Or, maybe it was there since the beginning, just laying dormant at the back of your head so that you could focus on denying him.

It doesn't really matter now since you're actually with someone. That someone isn't around right now, but he's in your thoughts as your chest fills with affection and pride for your friend.

Erwin is shouting about another open party, and your mind is made up to not attend because Zeke wouldn't appreciate it, but then Mike is suddenly lifting himself onto the raised, concrete stands and pointing at you, and before you know it, you're hopping down the next bleacher without a care for the fans who have to lean out of the way.

He's incredibly sweaty as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you don't mind. You were so convinced he would be mad at you or try to avoid you.

You're very aware that you had hurt him by getting with Zeke, and while he had been pretty guarded for the first few weeks, he's opened up some since that day in the coffee shop, when you'd nearly giggled yourself to death. You hadn't expected that to be what cracked his walls, especially considering how that visit had ended, but you're glad that it did.

"Haven't seen you cheering for me in a while," Mike laughs next to your ear.

He's dizzy with adrenaline, swaying back and forth as he squeezes you, and you tell him, "If you make us fall, I will beat you up, I swear."

"Okay," he says in a stupid voice of obvious disbelief, "Whatever you say."

You've been texting more, going over homework together, though you haven't needed his help in-person since he had switched books with you that day. It had been so smooth and subtle, you didn't realize until you opened it to study the following day, immediately noticing all the notes and highlights.

It had made you cry like a little bitch in the middle of your dorm, and you called Mike to thank him without bothering to hide your tears and hiccups.

"Come to the party tonight," he demands, but it's so soft, like he's still giving you a chance to say no.

The crowd is still yelling, so you have to keep speaking into each other's ears, and you ask, "Why? All the Pike parties are sticky and gross."

"'Cause we haven't gotten drunk together in a while," Mike states in the form of a whine.

You snort, feeling his hair dripping onto your shoulder. You should probably be disgusted, but it's not the first time you've gotten sweaty with him, and it's definitely not the worst bodily fluid he's made a mess on you with.

"You know what happens when we get drunk together," you remind him with a smile he can't see. "Can't do that anymore."

"I promise I'll behave."

That's not the problem. You don't know if you can behave. You've been wound up for over a month now, and it is driving you insane. No matter how many times you get off alone in your room at night, you still ache as if you're being edged.

So, getting fucked up with someone you know for a fact can fuck you stupid… probably not the best idea.

"Miche," you protest, drawing his name out.

"Just think about it."

He leaves you with that, hopping down and walking away with his arms in the air as everyone surrounding you cheers for him until he disappears. You just stand there amidst the noise, shirt now wet as you contemplate the pros and cons of going to another PKA party.

As always, Zeke asks what your plans are for the night, but for the first time since you met him, you lie. * King's Cup and Rage Cage and Beer Pong galore. Party-goers are pooling onto the lawn, and you're just waiting for campus police to show because of the chaos, but you're not necessarily scared of it. So you go to jail for a couple days. Worse things could happen.

Currently, you and Mike are sitting on the sidewalk nursing beers and giggling at the new pledges who keep running around the house in less and less clothes.

"Honestly, this isn't that bad," Mike tells you. "Erwin suggested we make them all watch snuff together."

You give him an incredulous look as you raise the glass bottle to your mouth. "Erwin is a god damn psychopath, what the fuck."

"We had to do it and didn't turn out too bad."

"And, just like that, I'm scared of you."

Mike laughs before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling as a brawny blond speeds past in nothing but boxers—Reiner, you think his name is.

There are only a few new guys who stick out to you—that one, a long-faced kid named Jean, freckle boy Marco, and, naturally, Zeke's younger brother, Eren. He sorta skeeves you out, so you've been doing your best to stay out of his sight despite never formally meeting him before.

"Kid's kind of a prick, a little too cocky. Always talking about how he's related to Zeke, or should I say your lo-ver," Mike chuckles, sounding amused, but he still downs the rest of his beer afterward.

You let out a little growl, just drunk enough to be too honest, and grumble, "Not my lover. Also, I would never use that term. So cringey."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's weird and dramat—"

"No," Mike cuts you off, "What do you mean about him not being that?"

You fall back on the concrete, bumping the back of your head a little too hard and scrunching your face up.

"We haven't had sex. The dude just will not fuck me for some reason."

"Are you serious?"

You glance at Mike and find his eyes wide in alarm.

"As a heart attack. I have never been so frustrated in my entire life."

You probably shouldn't be talking about this with him, one, because you assume it's like twisting a knife right in Mike's gut and two, because the more you drink, the less self-control you have.

He grunts then tosses his bottle into the yard for some poor pledge to slip on.

"His loss."

"Whatever. I'm sure he'll come around eventually," you sigh then sit back up. "And, until then, I guess I'm practicing celibacy or some shit."

Mike laughs hard at that, and it makes you smack him on the arm. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying," he raises his hands. "You're, like, the neediest person I know."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"In the bedroom, dummy. Obviously not all the time."

This is not at all where you wanted this conversation to go. The more you think about it, the more you feel that ache, the more you want to quell it.

"We should change the subject."

Mike looks at you, flipping hair out of his eyes and smiling like the cocky frat boy he pretends to be.

"Why? Gettin' all worked up."

"You are literally the worst."

You stand and finish your drink, throwing it a few feet away from Mike's as you tell him, "I need to get a little more fucked up if I'm gonna deal with your ass all night."

"Uh huh."

He follows you back inside, but while you make your way into the kitchen, Mike stops to talk with Erwin about one thing or another. It means he has to entertain the masses, talk about the game, and you post up against a wall to watch him.

You should leave. Mike is looking a little too attractive in his stupid fucking pastel polo, and you're supposed to meet Zeke for lunch tomorrow anyway. Zeke, your boyfriend.

Or, well, he hasn't said it explicitly, but you hold hands in public and ignore other people, just make it obvious that both of you aren't interested in anyone else.

Except when Mike sidles up to you with foggy eyes and a smirk he hasn't worn around you in a long time, you groan at the thought that you are interested in someone else. Even if it's just one night, god, you need it so bad. And, you know Mike can give it to you. Exactly the way you want it.

It's Zeke's fault, really. You know he knows how desperate you're getting. If he'd just explain why he doesn't want to have sex, you could deal with it much better than you are now, but he continues to leave you in the dark. It makes you think you're doing something wrong.

Then, there's the problem of feeling like the shittiest person alive every time you get frustrated. You've spent nights trying to rationalize it, but it's hard to think straight when you're so, undeniably horny.

"Don't look at me like that," you tell Mike with a scoff.

"Why not?"

"'Cause you said you'd behave tonight."

He cocks his head to the side and makes a face. "Did I? That doesn't sound like something I'd say to you."

"Oh my god, you're impossible. And, drunk."

"I'm not really that drunk," he waves you off. "It takes more than a few beers to get me fucked up, remember? Downfall of being this large."

Jesus, he really is rubbing it in your face now. Wide with muscle and so fucking tall. Not to mention his—

"I really cannot do this, Miche," you try again, gritting your teeth when his pupils dilate. "Zeke would be so pissed."

"So? Come on, just one more time. I didn't know the last time would be the last time."

You hadn't either. You don't know what you would have done differently had you known—maybe just taken the time to appreciate his incredible body more—but it doesn't matter now.

You try to sound firm and irritated when you snap, "You know you're being kinda manipulative, right?"

Mike tilts his head back as if you just shoved it, blinks a couple times, then swears out loud. "Oh, fuck." He takes a step away, eyes clear for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't even—"

"It's fine," you wave. "I just wanted you to know. I'm drunk and you're hot, and I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke."

"Yeah, I get it. Fuck. If you, like, wanna leave, I won't stop you. It was a joke, and then it wasn’t a joke and—That was a shit thing to do."

"Little bit, but you get a pass this time," you laugh through your nose. "Just don't go pulling that bullshit on some unsuspecting freshman or anything."

He runs a hand through his hair, red with embarrassment, and you think to yourself, Mike is a good guy. One of the best. You don't know of many who would take that kind of criticism to heart—how many would feel genuinely guilty. It is college, and every girl knows the trend of fratty sports players getting off scot-free after being charged with sexual assault. Given his status at the school, Mike could definitely do something like that and get away with it.

But, he would never.

You push him gently to show you aren't mad, tell him, "I still wanna hang out with you. We don't get to as much as we used to."

Mike's small smile looks relieved as he takes a deep breath. "This isn't exactly the best place to just chill, but—"

"I haven't seen your new apartment yet."

You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, your little tune changing ridiculously quickly, but you can't deny that you're curious. He's still your best friend, and you want to know what he's done with his new place. Is it bland like his old room in the house, or did he let his real personality show through?

"You sure?" He questions.

"Yeah. We can just, like, play video games or something."

"Are you sure?"

He must feel terrible. You can relate.

"If you don't want me over, just say so," you snort.

"No, no, of course I do. I just don't want you to feel weird about being alone or anything."

"Nah, like you said, you're not really drunk. I'll sober up with water. We'll be fine."

You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself. Without the presence of alcohol, you should be able to keep it together, and the distraction of Zelda or Mario will surely help.

"Okay, yeah," Mike nods. "Let's go then."

You don't even bother finishing your drink, just set it on a countertop and follow him out to his Wrangler. It's been a while since you've ridden in it. It's been a while since you've ridden him, your brain helpfully supplies, and as you pull up to the unfamiliar apartment complex, you once again begin to think that this was a bad idea.

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#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader

186 notes · View notes

sambvcks · 3 years

Text

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter three // didn’t care much how long i lived

summary: bucky receives a lesson on modern music over cheap beers and freshly baked scones.

warnings: mentions of abuse, food, alcohol consumption, character death (sorry)

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: besties...how we feeling about today’s episode??? using this as a coping mechanism :)

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

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Your record collection was extensive and collecting an unhealthy layer of dust since you had inherited them from your grandmother. It didn’t take long to fish out a Best Of album from the vast shelves, handing over the sleeve to Bucky, who sat patiently on your forest green couch, as you fiddled with the turntable’s needle.

To busy himself, he read over the repertoire of songs listed on the back.

“Let’s Get It On?”

“Usually, a guy buys a girl dinner first, Bucky.” You took a cheeky swig of your beer with an eyebrow raise as he flushed at the insinuation. “We’ll start easy. If I Could Build My Whole World Around You. A criminally under-appreciated love song.”

A bouncy beat crackled through from the speakers as you settled into the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you. Today’s choice of pajama bottoms displayed little snowflakes across a navy background, despite the heat outside that still lingered into nighttime.

“I like it.” Bucky decided.

“Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell have so many amazing songs together. She might not sound like it on record, but she had a hard life. Abusive, cheating partners. Brain cancer that killed her young. Hard to know what anyone’s going through behind closed doors.”

I’d put so much love where there is sorrow, I’d put joy where there’s never been before.

“I really like it.”

Your apron still hung from your waist, the gentle tick of the kitchen timer in the shape of a grey cat sat by your side. A reminder of the scones you were whipping up when Bucky unexpectedly appeared on your doorstep. You didn’t question him or bring up the late hour. Simply ushered him in with a smile and a beer shoved into his gloved hand.

Bucky feels comfortable for the first time in a long time. Eyes focused, mind stagnant. Your perfume, woodsy and natural, lingers in the air and he has to take a long gulp of his drink just to occupy himself for just a second.

“I’m glad you like it. Though, I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like Marvin Gaye. It’s like not liking Queen.”

“Queen?”

The timer rattled on the coffee table and the smell of vanilla and blueberries nipped at Bucky’s nose.

“Saved by the bell! I don’t have the time to berate you on not knowing about Queen.”

You bustled your way back into the kitchen, sliding oven mitts onto your hands as you inspected the oven with a professional certainty. The record out and into the next track as Bucky watched on, your shoulders swaying to the slow tempo. You were light on your feet as you plucked one tray from the heat and replaced it with another.

It was so easy for Bucky to imagine this world as his, with the soft swing of Motown as the soundtrack to your shared afternoons. In a different life, he would come home to your baking, ask how studying went as you swayed in the kitchen together. You would wash dishes next to one another, hips pressed close, and giggle when he would press his sudsy hands onto your cheeks. You would smear remnants of cake batter on his and he would let you feed him dessert from your fingers.

It wasn’t possible, he knew. Probably ever. You would be graduating school soon, off to be an important attorney and he would still just be your across the hallway neighbor who you sometimes shared desserts and pleasantries with. You would find out who he was eventually. Everyone did. You would leave. Everyone did.

You would simply be another in a long line of failed attempts by James Buchanan Barnes.

Still, he thought, we can have this one simple night. Where you don’t know who he is, and he can imagine that it lasts long after he retreats back to his apartment.

‘Heaven must have sent you from above.’ Crooned the lovesick singers on your record player.

As you returned to the living room with another beer and the promise of scones as soon as they cooled, Bucky could only think one thing.

He was definitely starting to like Marvin Gaye.

He was starting to like you, too.

When he returned back to his apartment, hours later with a pile of records you insisted he borrow in his arms and a belly full of blueberry scones, he fell into bed without a care in his mind. It was his first full night of sleep in ninety years.

Bucky started appearing on your doorstep more often.

Your number was now saved in his phone and was his most frequently used contact. You were his secret, though, something he didn’t even share with Dr. Raynor. No matter how many times she tried to get him to speak about his troubling lack of acquaintances.

You were the one thing in the world untouched by all the destruction waging a war between his ears, you were easy and simple and God, it had been a long time since anything had been simple. You didn’t mind that he was brooding and a little bit clueless, or his cheesy jokes and complaints about technology these days.

His record collection was quickly growing, though it was still nowhere near yours.

Most of all, he liked sitting in your apartment, at your kitchen counter or on that forest green sofa of yours. Sometimes, you would let him pick a record and tell him everything you could remember about it. Other times, you would read from your heavy law books and he’d pretend to understand the cases and terminology, head resting against the back of your couch, admiring how your brows would furrow in concentration. He’d tell you not to hunch over your book, but you’d insist you were fine, only to be complaining about your neck the next time he saw you.

“I wish I read more actual books, you know? It seems like all I know these days are case studies.”

The next visit he’d have a worn copy of one of his favorite books tucked under his arm. He’d read to you until you’d doze off to the stories of Bilbo Baggins and his team of dwarves, a blanket tucked up to your neck.

Every visit cemented yourself further and further into his identity, until his trips to the used bookstore down the block became weekly and his morning runs became longer as you pushed more and more baked goods his way. You’d kiss his cheek as you said your goodbyes, leaning against your doorframe as he disappeared into his apartment.

He was happy. Positively, unbelievably happy.

Two days before Bucky’s next scheduled visit, Steve died in his sleep.

Pneumonia, or something, Bucky didn’t really comprehend any of the newscast beyond the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD’ flashing in bold letters across his television screen.

Sam called early that morning and Bucky just knew. He knew what was waiting for him on the other end of that call, so he shut his phone off and laid back on the hardwood floor of his living room, dead to the world.

He didn’t speak to anyone for a few days, not even bothering with his daily runs or grocery store trips. Your knocks at his door went unanswered, with no trace that you had even stood in the hallway waiting for him other than a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies on his doormat. The only appointment he kept was his therapy, where he stared out the window and counted down the minutes until he could leave. Each attempt on Dr. Raynor’s part to bring up Steve was shut down as quickly as it was brought up.

Finally, a week later, a pounding at the door woke him from a restless afternoon nap.

“Buck, I know you’re in there.”

Sam. Of course.

“These boxes are heavy, come on!”

Sam Wilson took up Bucky’s entire doorway with his broad shoulders, the boxes stacked in his arms taking up the rest. Bucky was quick to usher him in the door, eyeing yours across the hall. He knew one look at an Avenger on his stoop would finally connect the dots for you, and you’d never speak to the Winter Soldier again.

“Keep your voice down.” Bucky shoved the final box through the doorway before securing the lock in place.

Sam surveyed his barren living room, eyes flicking to the crumpled bedsheets gathered on the floor next to his sofa but didn’t linger for long.

“I was worried about you, man.”

It used to be ‘we’, but now it’s just Sam.

“Nothing to worry about.” Bucky pushed past him to his kitchen, collecting stray dishes he hadn’t bothered to move to the sink before then. He felt Sam’s careful gaze on him the entire time. He hated that. He hated how much Sam cared.

He mostly hated how much it reminded him of Steve.

“Found these boxes in Steve’s attic. Had your name on them so I thought you might want ‘em.”

Bucky swallowed hard, focused on scrubbing the dishes under water so hot it was turning the skin on his flesh hand a violent red.

“I know this is hard, Buck-”

The glass he had been rinsing shattered between his fingers and Sam took a step back as Bucky heaved in uneven breaths. There was a long silence between the two grieving men, neither able to fully understand the other. Sam would never feel Bucky’s ninety-year heartache, the abandonment and fear of the life ahead of him. Bucky would never understand the weight on Sam’s shoulders or his unease at the shield tucked under his bed at home.

“I just want to be alone.”

Sam could do nothing but respect his wish.

“Call if you need anything.” Were his departing words as he showed himself out.

Bucky got to work cleaning up the broken glass.

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